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He rises and gathers me into his arms, holding me with such extraordinary tenderness that my heart nearly bursts.
“I have spent three thousand years believing my purpose was to punish those who caused suffering,” he murmurs against my hair.
I wrap my arms around his waist.
“And now?”
He draws back, his magenta eyes blazing with love.
“Now I have two souls to protect.”
I smile.
“Just remember, mighty God of Wrath, your child is going to need a father, not a personal army.”
He considers this.
“Could I be both?”
“Vidar!”
He laughs.
Then kisses me.
Above us, thunder rumbles across the cloudless New Orleans sky.
I pull back.
“Sweetheart!”
He grins.
“What?”
“You promised!”
“I am celebrating.”
“With thunder?”
“Would you prefer lightning?”
I burst out laughing.
He scoops me into his arms and spins me beneath the climbing roses.
And as the fountain sparkles in the afternoon sunlight, I realize something extraordinary.
The place where I once ran to escape a man who frightened me has become the place where I’m building a family with a man who makes me feel safe.
A man powerful enough to destroy kingdoms.
Gentle enough to cradle a butterfly.
And now, apparently, destined to become the world’s most overprotective father.
God help us all.
