FRIGID (Part 1)
Please burn my bones when this is over, Sig. Paint Silver Forest with my ashes. Maybe the starving soil will devour me and grow something new from it in the spring. Something green, I hope. Green is for life, after all.
Standing next to Sif on the other side of the buffet, Fandral pursed his lips than leaned forward, eyeing Loki from under his brow. “All these women are going to start throwing their underthings at you if you continue making orgasmic sounds. Leave some for the rest of us, dream boy.” He laughed, reaching out to lightly punch his shoulder.
Loki glared at him, swallowing the bite quietly. “Call me dream boy one more time.”
Chewing her bottom lip, Sigyn looked back and forth between the two men, noting Loki’s clenched jaw, his chest rising and falling faster while Fandral continued to grin like a smug brat at him. She’d wondered how much longer Loki would be able to bear hearing that insipid moniker come out of that idiot’s mouth before he absolutely lost it. Apparently time was up, and after her experience during battle prep yesterday, she hoped Loki would absolutely throttle him.