Morgan's Fate

and Beli’s slayer,

bright, against Surtr.

Then shall Frigg’s

sweet friend fall.”

Morgan smiled, looking oddly proud of her. “Do you know what it means?”

She shook her head, terrified. Why wasn’t she saying what she wanted to? It was like some alien force had taken over her body.

Morgan pressed a soft kiss to her lips, startling her. His mouth was soft, yet firm, and he didn’t press his advantage.

She wanted a real taste of him, more than that encouraging peck.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart.” That endearment rocketed through her like a lightning bolt. “You can do this.” He kissed her again, a little more firmly, a little more possessively. She could almost taste him, but he wasn’t giving her what she needed. She parted her lips, inviting him inside.

He took what she offered, taking the kiss and making it his own. His arms tightened around her as he took his time, letting her know exactly who was in charge. She’d given him what he really wanted, and now there was no going back.

When the kiss ended she was dazed, panting and ready to leave the Tate-Saeter home. She wanted to be alone with Morgan, to feel him doing more than devouring her mouth.

She wanted him to devour all of her. She opened her mouth to beg for another kiss— “Then comes the high

Sigfathers son,

Vidar, and shall

the wolf war give.

In Kvedrung’s son

his sword pierced

to the heart;

avenged was his father.”

Skye shook so hard her teeth started to chatter. “What’s happening to me?”

Morgan’s determined expression didn’t waver. “You’re speaking prophecy.”

“What?” She’d had prophetic dreams and the occasional vision, but she’d never starting speaking in poetry.

Not until she’d met the Tate-Saeters.

It was these people. It had to be. They were doing this to her somehow, forcing her gift to speak through her instead of her speaking about her gift. It was the only thing that made any sense. “Morgan.” She didn’t know why, but he was the only one who could make all this stop. “Please.”

He kissed her again, and she could feel her power respond to him. Why him? “I can’t. You’re beginning to wake up. Everything you thought you knew, every part of your mortal life, was imposed upon your memory. None of it was real.”

She shook her head and began struggling against Morgan’s hold. “I don’t want to understand. I want to be me.” It made no sense, but the fear that she was about to lose everything she’d ever known gripped her so tightly she could barely breathe. She looked up at Morgan, aware of how desperate she must look. “Please, Morgan.” Something terrible would happen if this continued, she just knew it.

He pulled her close, cradling her head against his chest, his hold on her both soothing and proving once and for all that she was no longer in control of her destiny. “I’m so sorry, elskede.” He nipped her earlobe, sending tremors through her. “Remember, Skuld. Remember who you are.” He nipped harder, and she gasped. The sensation was far more pleasurable than she’d expected. “Remember me.”

Skye closed her eyes and sobbed as visions flooded over her. She was forced by something beyond herself to speak.

“High blows Heimdallr, the horn is aloft;

Odin communes with Mimir’s head;

Trembles Yggdrasill’s towering Ash;

The old tree wails when the Ettin is loosed.

What of the Aesir? What of the Elf-folk?

All Jotunheim echoes, the Aesir are at council;

The dwarves are groaning before their stone doors,

Wise in rock-walls; wit ye yet, or what?

Hrymr sails from the east, the sea floods onward;

The monstrous Beast twists in mighty wrath;

The Snake beats the waves, the Eagle is screaming;

The gold-neb tears corpses, Naglfar is loosed.

From the east sails the keel; come now Muspell’s folk

Over the sea-waves, and Loki steereth;

There are the warlocks all with the Wolf,

With them is the brother of Byleistr faring.

Surtr fares from southward with switch-eating flame;

On his sword shimmers the sun of the war-gods;

The rocks are falling, and fiends are reeling,

Heroes tread Hel-way, heaven is cloven.

Then to the Goddess a second grief cometh,

When Odin fares to fight with the Wolf,

And Beli’s slayer, the bright god, with Surtr;

There must fall Frigg’s beloved.

Odin’s son goeth to strife with the Wolf,

Vidarr, speeding to meet the slaughter-beast;

The sword in his hand to the heart he thrusteth

Of the fiend’s offspring; avenged is his Father.

Now goeth Hlodyn’s glorious son

Not in flight from the Serpent, of fear unheeding;

All the earth’s offspring must empty the homesteads,

When furiously smiteth Midgard’s defender.

The sun shall be darkened, earth sinks in the sea,—

Glide from the heaven the glittering stars;

Smoke-reek rages and reddening fire:

The high heat licks against heaven itself.”

Skye lifted her tearstained face from Morgan’s shoulder. Kir, whom she remembered as Baldur, looked sympathetic, the bright god’s inner self far more beautiful than his outer. Logan—or Loki—held Baldur’s hand, their fingers twined tight as Jordan snuggled between them. Vali the Avenger nodded once as Tyr, known as Travis, smiled.

And the twins. Magni’s expression was grim, but it was Modi who held her attention, promised to make everything all right again. “I remember. May the gods help me.” Because everything she’d ever believed about herself had been a lie.

Chapter Five

“Tell us what happened.” Morgan led a rattled Skye to the white sofa and settled her down. It killed him to see the tears still on her cheeks, so he wiped them away. It was a travesty to see anything other than a smile