Thor Odinson Novels & Stories

“Because in the last book, my therapeutic killing of him was so macabre they made me remove it and fix it.” Cruz’s brows which were meeting in the middle now jacked up high on his forehead. “I know you said you killed him off in every book. Which character was he in this one? I couldn’t pinpoint him.” “Did you know the name Odin, which stems from the Norse God mythology, has many different names in Old Norse mythology? I always make it a minor character, but I always use one variation of his name. In this book he was Bǫlverkr. It means evil doer.”

I tell the wolf, and I see its eyes rest on me. “I doubt you know about Odin, Thor, and all the other gods. The other countries we went to never did.” I tell them. “But anyway, Odin is the king in Valhalla the home of the gods, Thor is the thunder God, and then there are gods like Baldur, Frigg, Heimdall, Tyr, and Idun. That is just some of them. And, of course, there is Freya, whom I have been named after.” I tell them, and it looks like they are listening.

The one called Thora stood in front of his cell, keys in hand, sneer on her face. “ Well, if it isn’t the new celebrity,” she said, disdain in her voice. “ You probably don’t recall my name, do you?” Kronos just shook his head, too tired, sore, and hungry to venture a guess. “ It’s Thora, but I wouldn’t expect someone so big and important to know the name of someone as insignificant as I,” she said with a mocking bow. “ You are the incredible warrior who slew the almighty Odysseus after all.”

Thor was obviously a huge danger. “You don’t know what you deal with mortal. You are dead when he is done with you.” She stayed where she was, she peaked around though. Thor was a massive man, tall and stocky. He had a short beard and his hair was tied back, it looked to only reach below his ears maybe.

Anders pulled me next to him, wrapping his arm around me. “Who else is over there?” She asked, looking over the group. I turned and looked over at the group. Most were engaged in conversation with my grandparents, but Duncan was eyeing us closely. “Alpha Callan and Luna Raina, Anders’ parents. Anders’ head warrior, Jason is also over there. And that brooding fellow is Alpha Duncan. He is Alpha of the Crescent River Pack. He is mostly likely your guardian wolf as well as me and Anders.” Coral shivered as she looked over at Duncan. I eyed her questioningly but quickly dismissed the feeling. Duncan was good looking, and I had no doubt that Coral was responding to that. She always had a thing fo

I covered my mouth and screamed, as if I had just seen a ghost. 2 Perhaps Shia did not know who he was. But I recognized that face immediately. Thor, the God of Strength, son of Odin—one of the chief gods reborn in Asgard. Alongside Hodr, the God of Darkness, and Heimdall, the Guardian God, he belonged to the same battle unit. Together, they had slaughtered countless members of the Vanir. Though none of them individually matched Lan’s strength, the three seemed bound together in spirit and soul from birth. Whenever they appeared simultaneously within Vanir territory, no survivors were ever left behind.

Are there no God social workers on duty today? While they were busy proving their own points as to why I cannot and why I should not touch or even attempt to wield, they are too late. I ran to it and touched it with only the hope of saving the people I love. Upon contact with the bolt, it shrank into man-size and it fits perfectly in my hand, I could feel the gentle crackling of the little thunders in my hand. I thought of Thor and told my self “Who’s the bad boy, now Chris Hemsworth?”

There were five people by the table, excluding Alexander and I. "It's nice to meet you, lady Annalisa," a male seated by the table said. He was barrel-chested, with dirty blonde hair, and he had an uncanny resemblance to Newton. I later got to know he was Rusev, Newton's older brother, and Thalia's husband.

With every swallow, my throat ached for the cool sensation of water to slick down the column. His eyes traveled to the glass of water beside me and back. A silent command to drink. I obeyed, propping myself up and fluffing my pillows. The wet reprieve of the water against my dry throat felt like the next best thing since shoe laces. Water may not have been my favorite drink of choice—pumpkin spice ice-coffees won that—but one only realized their gratitude for the existence of water when they needed it most. Placing the glass back, I finally took in Victor. He was dressed in a black button-down and black dress slacks. His hair was slicked back in a top knot. His beard was trimmed and framed h