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he would die as he’d lived, a great warrior in service to his lord.
    “But I was wrong.” Kir’s gaze raked the room, and Skye could have sworn she saw clouds scuttle across the brilliant blue of his eyes. “I was wrong. The comics, the movies? They were the ones that got it right.” He closed his eyes and slipped his sunglasses back down his nose, despite the fact that clouds seemed to have covered the sun, darkening the parlor of the funeral home. Off in the distance, thunder sounded as a single tear escaped from behind those dark glasses. “My brother was a hero, and nothing, not Grimm, not lies, not even death, can take that from him.” His voice took on an odd, echoing timber as Logan’s eyes opened. She would swear up and down that flames danced in the foxy brown of his eyes as he gazed at Logan. “Remember that. Remember the man who tossed you in the air, who defended you against the ones who should have loved you most.”
    Beside her, Morgan’s breath hitched.
    “Remember the man who defied his father to marry a human despite the influence of Idunn’s apples.”
    Jeanne broke down and sobbed.
    “Remember the man who wasn’t ashamed to ask for forgiveness.”
    Jeff nodded sharply.
    “There are few so deserving of Valhalla as my brother, but deep inside I hope he does not go there.”
    Travis gasped, looking shocked. Morgan twitched, his brother grumbling under his breath.
    “I hope with everything in me that he does not go to where my father rules the dead. I hope he does not have to look his murderer in the eye for the rest of eternity. I hope my brother goes safely into the embrace of death, that he sits at the side of my lover’s daughter. I hope that when Grimm’s Ragnarrok finally comes, my brother will be at the head of the army that will ride from Helheim and finally take him down.”
    Lightning flashed, followed swiftly by thunder as Kir’s voice rang out, echoing through Skye. She had the strongest urge to bow her head to Kir, the power in his voice almost too great to withstand. She’d been drawn to him from the start, but not like this.
    Skye knew if Kir asked her to join that fictional army, she’d sign up in a heartbeat. And that frightened her more than anything else that had happened during this insane week.

Chapter Three
    Morgan sat at his stepsister’s dining table and stared at Skye. He burned every time he was near her. He hadn’t been able to leave her side, even at his own father’s funeral.
    How fucked up was that? He bet Frederica would be cackling over her cauldron right now if she knew.
    “Thinking about bedding your Fate?”
    Morgan resisted the urge to punch his twin. “Shut up.” He managed to drag his eyes away from Skye long enough to shoot Magnus a dirty look. “I’m just fascinated by her face.”
    “And her cleavage.”
    “Ye—what were you doing looking?”
    Magnus chuckled. “Why not stamp mine across her forehead?”
    “Or her cleavage?” Morgan’s frown turned into a scowl as his brother laughed harder. “You are such an asshole.”
    “Yeah, but I’m an asshole staring at a pair of truly magnificent— ow .” Magnus rubbed his shin and glared at Jamie, who was seated across from him. “What?”
    She glared at him for a second before Travis got her attention by nodding toward Skye. “Sweetheart, I think she’s ready.”
    Whatever reply Jamie gave her fiancé was lost as Morgan’s attention was once more captured by Skye. The Norn cleared her throat as she rapped against her glass with her fork. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stand it anymore. Could someone please explain to me what’s going on?” She stared at each of them in turn. “Fred Grimm couldn’t be your dad. He’s too damn young! And the crazy lady is a grandmother? And why can’t I go home? ”
    Silence greeted her shouted question, but then Kir sighed and also stood. “What do you know about Norse mythology?”
    “Oh, here we go,” Jordan muttered.
    “It worked on you,