Novelas y relatos de Jormungandr

*This chapter may contain offensive content, read at your own risk!!!! Do not attempt to replicate any action protrayed in this chapter. Thank you for reading!!!* Trix bit her lip as she stared dazed at the air. She was so high that she could reach the stars. Her head staggered and fell into the shoulders of her best friend, Jordan. Jordan had dirty blonde hair, brown eyes and a lean body. He could of been an athlete but Jordan didn't want to become a jock for reasons that were obvious to everyone else except Trix.

Something that I missed when I was searching for the body. “There was something else that I found too.” I told her, as I leaned down, holding the phone to my ear, and unclicked what looked like at first, a necklace of sorts. “What else was there?” she asked as I held up the neck up to the moonlight. It was carved out in the symbol of Jormungandr the dragon of Norse Mythology, where it was circling itself and eating its tail, and underneath were the ancient runic symbols that now, I couldn’t remember. The stainless-steel design was wrapped up on an equally stainless-steel braided chain that firmly held it in place.

Great yellow-blue threaded eyes of Jormungand alit under the depths. Yola fed him another slice. He gnashed his teeth, and an earthquake hit. “Now!” Jormungand roiled and rose in a lightning split, making to swallow us. “Hurry, bind him!” Jarnja called. I did, weaving blood and ice together to form a net for the serpent god. Jarnja summoned lightning and let it hit the Pole Star. Lokabrenna, the Northern Pole Star, fired like an elven mirror, breaking the foggy dew.

Solmyra had never feared anyone—not gods, not kings, not creatures born of shadow or sea. She had drained armies of their magic, bent centuries to her will, and prolonged her existence beyond mortal time. But at this moment, suspended in the air by a force that defied every ancient law she knew, she was afraid. Her feet dangled helplessly, silver-lined fingers clawing at an invisible grip clamped around her throat. Serena stood below her, backlit by a storm of pulsing light, her hair unbound and whipping with an unseen wind, her body radiating a power older than time, fierce and unrelenting.

“So, she is part demon? One of Dante’s sprogs that slipped through the net?” “No,” Lucas leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees as a weary sigh escaped him. “Atlas and Amos don’t have wolf spirits remember? Chloe does; Hecate.” “Hecate? What kind of name is that?” “It’s the name of a Greek goddess. As far as we can tell, only the Wolfe line has a wolven spirit with a Greek name. Even Sierra and Alvaro don’t have them. So, how come she has one?” Lucas raised an eyebrow, hazel eyes darkening as the questions piled up. “I think we need to make a call.”

My name is Elora and I reside at the Blue Mountain Packhouse. I have a slim figure, long curly blonde hair which I usually wear up in a bun so it is out of my face. My eyes are a deep blue which I love. I am not a normal girl though. You see I am a shewolf, my rank at the packhouse is an omega. I don’t know my parents because they passed away when I was just a tiny baby, so I don’t have any memories of them. The only thing I have is a necklace locket from my mother. I have never taken it off because it makes me feel close to her spirit.

He informed me in a hushed voice. I hummed in reply, watching the woman wrapped up in white regalia seat with her legs crossed as she basked in the smoke that came from the sticks she burnt. A crack in the flames sent little heated debris into the air and she bowed to it. “You have been accepted by the ancestors. Alpha Hawk, you have been chosen to rule your people.” She announced. “No. Not Hawk. I am Fenrir.” I quickly disclaim the name. “Oh, okay. Alpha Fenrir.”

It is hard to imagine that any living being would have survived or that any infrastructure would have withstood the impact. Peter interrupts my gloomy thoughts, “So, what’s your prognosis on our current position, Ingoran?” “The parallel storm will dissipate, then we’ll limp towards Earth and hope our boosters will give us the capacity to bring us down to the surface in one piece.” Ingoran gives a hollow laugh. “Or at least the piece that remains intact.” I search his mind for any glimmer of hope but find none. “I’m really sorry about your companions,” Ashmor says sympathetically.

I scoff at the petty threat. “Do you’re worst, Beast. I am Fenrir, the God Of Hell. She is too fucking young to understand. She won’t miss what she doesn’t have. I will return it to her when she is old enough to understand.” I bite back at him and he whimpers, not for me but for Gaia.

This is how it should be, everyone together celebrating life and new beginnings. A hear a shriek from outside and Carter helps me to stand up as everyone quietens down as Artemis and Jörmungandr enter and everyone quietens down. “Who is he?” Dani asks and I smile at her as she stuffs a piece of apple into her mouth. I swear this woman never stops eating. “This is my old friend, Jörmungandr. He is the world serpent. He is Artemis’s mate.” I tell the room and everyone looks from Artemis to this huge man. When Dragus moves to him and so does Fenrir.