I killed the first god I met.
It was self-defense. The kills that followed were not, but they were necessary. Preemptive. It was them or me. Until he showed up; eyes full of lightning, a jawline that could cut glass, and the body of a Norse god… which is exactly what he is. One of them. He represents everything that I’m against. Everything that I fear. I should kill him, but I have the strangest feeling that I should trust him. As a witch, I always listen to my gut but as a woman, I know that this time those feelings might be coming from somewhere a little lower.
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