howled like a mad wolf and slammed into the demon's chest.
~ ~ ~
The raven Muninn watched from the top of an icy streetlight as the berserk Einherjer threw himself at the frost troll. The Valkyrie scrambled to her feet, the howling wind whipping her raven-black hair. A flaming sword appeared in her shocked hand as the Einherjer, berserk and wearing the wolf's cloak, tore at the troll's dingy-white fur.
With a caw, Muninn took flight. It easily passed from Utgard back to Midgard. Winter vanished and the warm air of later spring engulfed the raven. Below, fearful humans stared at the wreckage the frost troll's rampage had left. Sirens blared and lights flashed blue and red as the mortal's emergency responders raced through the choked streets.
The raven reached the end of the destruction. Its master, the One-Eyed God Odin, stood beside the wreckage of the yellow cab. Muninn dived and landed on the god's shoulder, his sharp talons digging into the dull-green material of the god's jacket. Muninn shared its vision with the god.
Odin sighed. “I'm sorry to do this to you, Raven,” he whispered. “But I don't have time to coddle you and Magnus.”
The raven cawed.
The One-Eyed God smiled, “Yes, she chose well. Even without any powers, Magnus didn't flinch.”
Chapter Eight
Magnus
Rage filled me. A deep, bloody maw opened inside me. Only the monster's death could fill it. The beast attacked my Valkyrie.
My body was stronger. My claws were steal, my muscles iron. My teeth savaged into the thick hide of the monster. Its knuckled fists swung at me. I ignored the pain hammering my sides. I couldn't let go. I had to fight.
I had to kill.
~ ~ ~
Raven
I almost dropped the flaming sword that appeared in my hand. I don't know how I summoned it. The sword just burst out of my soul.
A wolf howled. I recovered from my shock. Magnus had thrown himself at the monster, transformed into some sort of...wolf creature. A werewolf. He was black fur, snarling jaws, and sharp claws. Red blood stained the chest of the monster as Magnus savaged it, howling in berserker rage.
Again he was protecting me. And I couldn't do anything about it. I had to help him fight the monster. I couldn't stand to see his body lying broken and dead before me. That would be too much after this insanity.
And so a sword appeared out of fire, whirling into existence in my hand. I gasped in shock, staring at the silvery metal wreathed in fire. The flames whipped in the wind howling down the street. My hand gripped the hilt as I stared at the weapon. It was long and straight, the end tapering to a chisel-like point. The edges on both sides gleamed sharp. A groove ran down the middle of the sword from the cross-like bars above the handle, slowly vanishing as it reached the point. Strange symbols glittered on either side of the groove, angular and stamped into the metal.
Runes? The Norse used runes, right?
The monster had called me a Valkyrie. Was it true? The sword felt...comfortable in my grip, like I knew it. Had I ever before summoned a sword? Had I ever fought with a weapon?
Yes. As a girl, I was always picking up sticks and playing swords with them, emulating my mother. My parents encouraged me. I never thought it was strange. It was how I was raised. It was only when I entered the foster care system that I discovered girls didn't play with sticks. Boys did. I had to only play with dolls.
Magnus howled.
I pulled my gaze away from the hypnotic burning of my magical weapon. My berserk biker ripped and tore at the monster. The beast was fierce, strong, wild, Magnus stripped of his poetic side, the dangerous biker unleashed and manifested as a raging werewolf.
Magnus was magnificent. He moved on the monster's body, dodging the monster's punches as he continued to savage the thing. Magnus howled again. I almost understood what his growls and snarls said: “You will not harm her! Mine!”
Magnus fought to protect me. It was...sexy.
No. Not
~ ~ ~
The raven Muninn watched from the top of an icy streetlight as the berserk Einherjer threw himself at the frost troll. The Valkyrie scrambled to her feet, the howling wind whipping her raven-black hair. A flaming sword appeared in her shocked hand as the Einherjer, berserk and wearing the wolf's cloak, tore at the troll's dingy-white fur.
With a caw, Muninn took flight. It easily passed from Utgard back to Midgard. Winter vanished and the warm air of later spring engulfed the raven. Below, fearful humans stared at the wreckage the frost troll's rampage had left. Sirens blared and lights flashed blue and red as the mortal's emergency responders raced through the choked streets.
The raven reached the end of the destruction. Its master, the One-Eyed God Odin, stood beside the wreckage of the yellow cab. Muninn dived and landed on the god's shoulder, his sharp talons digging into the dull-green material of the god's jacket. Muninn shared its vision with the god.
Odin sighed. “I'm sorry to do this to you, Raven,” he whispered. “But I don't have time to coddle you and Magnus.”
The raven cawed.
The One-Eyed God smiled, “Yes, she chose well. Even without any powers, Magnus didn't flinch.”
Chapter Eight
Magnus
Rage filled me. A deep, bloody maw opened inside me. Only the monster's death could fill it. The beast attacked my Valkyrie.
My body was stronger. My claws were steal, my muscles iron. My teeth savaged into the thick hide of the monster. Its knuckled fists swung at me. I ignored the pain hammering my sides. I couldn't let go. I had to fight.
I had to kill.
~ ~ ~
Raven
I almost dropped the flaming sword that appeared in my hand. I don't know how I summoned it. The sword just burst out of my soul.
A wolf howled. I recovered from my shock. Magnus had thrown himself at the monster, transformed into some sort of...wolf creature. A werewolf. He was black fur, snarling jaws, and sharp claws. Red blood stained the chest of the monster as Magnus savaged it, howling in berserker rage.
Again he was protecting me. And I couldn't do anything about it. I had to help him fight the monster. I couldn't stand to see his body lying broken and dead before me. That would be too much after this insanity.
And so a sword appeared out of fire, whirling into existence in my hand. I gasped in shock, staring at the silvery metal wreathed in fire. The flames whipped in the wind howling down the street. My hand gripped the hilt as I stared at the weapon. It was long and straight, the end tapering to a chisel-like point. The edges on both sides gleamed sharp. A groove ran down the middle of the sword from the cross-like bars above the handle, slowly vanishing as it reached the point. Strange symbols glittered on either side of the groove, angular and stamped into the metal.
Runes? The Norse used runes, right?
The monster had called me a Valkyrie. Was it true? The sword felt...comfortable in my grip, like I knew it. Had I ever before summoned a sword? Had I ever fought with a weapon?
Yes. As a girl, I was always picking up sticks and playing swords with them, emulating my mother. My parents encouraged me. I never thought it was strange. It was how I was raised. It was only when I entered the foster care system that I discovered girls didn't play with sticks. Boys did. I had to only play with dolls.
Magnus howled.
I pulled my gaze away from the hypnotic burning of my magical weapon. My berserk biker ripped and tore at the monster. The beast was fierce, strong, wild, Magnus stripped of his poetic side, the dangerous biker unleashed and manifested as a raging werewolf.
Magnus was magnificent. He moved on the monster's body, dodging the monster's punches as he continued to savage the thing. Magnus howled again. I almost understood what his growls and snarls said: “You will not harm her! Mine!”
Magnus fought to protect me. It was...sexy.
No. Not
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