Chapter Sixteen Heimdall

T here was a dull thud, like flesh striking stone as Loki's cry was cut off. Immediately panic filled my entire body.

"Loki?" I called, getting as close to the river's edge as I could. "Are you okay?"

I expected him to say he'd banged his knee or knocked his head on the stone. But there was no answer. My heart did a flip as adrenaline rushed through my body, my stomach twisting into a knot.

"Loki!"

Still nothing.

Without hesitation, I stepped into the freezing cold water and waded across the river. It started barely above my ankles but quickly came up to my knees before I reached the other side. Once I was up on the ledge, I realized it was too dark to see much. I could tell the cavern opened up in front of me from the sound of my breathing echoing off the walls. But I couldn't see how far it went.

"Loki?"

No reply again. I took a panicked step forward, intent on rushing in without regard for my own safety. But then I stopped. If something had happened to my mate, I wouldn't be able to help him if I too fell prey to the same trap. So, instead of doing what every muscle in my body was screaming at me to do, I forced myself down on my hands and knees. From there, I crawled through the darkness, feeling every inch of rock in front of me before putting my weight down.

It only took me a few seconds before I found the pit. I felt out the edge, stopping before I too went over the edge. I couldn't see anything, but the moment I stuck my head out over the open space, a warm coppery scent struck me, filling my nose and making my stomach lurch.

Blood .

"Loki?" I asked again, this time my voice barely above a whisper.

My heart pounded so hard I could barely think. Blood pulsed in my ears, drowning out all other noise in the cavern. The wolf inside me was inconsolable, and it felt like it was running in circles, losing its mind at the thought that my mate, the one I'd just found, could be dead.

But I wasn't ready to give up just yet. I couldn't. If there was a chance to save Loki like he'd saved me, I had to do it. I at least had to try .

I pulled back, searching the wall and floor near me for some sort of crevasse or stalagmite to wedge my feet into. My fingers only met smooth stone for the first few seconds, and I started to formulate a different plan. But then I found a small grouping of stalagmites near the wall. They weren't very big from what I could feel, but they would have to do.

Jamming my foot between them, I stretched my body out over the edge of the hole, my toes gripping the rocks as much as I could. My entire torso was over the edge, and I kept my hands on the lip of the pit, lowering myself down slowly. My feet shifted slightly and I let out a gasp, convinced I was going to plummet face first into the darkness. But I somehow managed to hold on, my leg twisting painfully as my foot jammed itself deep into the stone.

Taking a deep breath, I reached out, searching for Loki. At first all I found was open air. My fingers trailed over the smooth, cold sides of the pit. Everything was just a little damp thanks to the river, and the cold was sinking into my body quickly. But I knew Loki was soaked from the river. Even if he'd survived the fall, he might freeze to death if I didn't get him out.

I worked myself further down the edge until I was completely hanging over the side. Reaching down into the darkness, I searched for something, anything that might give me a glimmer of hope that he was still alive. A gasp left my lips as I touched something soft and still slightly warm. Working both hands over the surface, I realized it was a foot.

"Loki?" I said, giving his foot a shake. "Loki, talk to me, please!"

There was nothing. But I stopped for a moment and held my breath, forcing myself to listen as hard as I could. And there, in the oppressive darkness, I thought I heard the shallow rasp of breath. A fire ignited in my belly the moment it landed on my ears. Loki was alive. He had to be. But he wasn't responding, and I didn't know how badly hurt he was. That meant there was only one thing to do, and I just hoped I had the strength to do it. After nearly two days in the cave without food and healing multiple injuries, I was far weaker than my normal self. But Loki needed to be pulled to safety, and I was the only person that could do it.

I just hoped I was enough.

Grabbing Loki's ankle, I pulled him a little closer, wrapping my left hand around his ankle as tightly as I could. With my right hand, I grabbed the edge of the pit, digging my fingers into the little cracks in the stone. I'd have to lift him quickly because I could already feel my strength starting to wane. I took a few deep breaths to prepare myself, gritted my teeth, and pulled.

Loki was much lighter than me, for which I was very thankful. But working at such a strange angle made him feel like he was suddenly made of rocks. I groaned and strained, pulling him up the side of the pit with just my one arm. As soon as his foot was level with my face, I switched tactics and began to pull with the other arm, hoisting both him and myself back to the surface. My leg stretched and twisted painfully, my foot still wedged between the stones. It was enough to make me cry out, but I didn't let Loki go. He was my mate , the one thing I wanted more than anything else in the world.

For a moment, my resolve faltered, and I wondered if it would be more humane to leave him there. There was no way out of the cave from what I could tell. Was I really going to save him just so he could die even slower, trapped with me in this hellhole?

"No!" I shouted, my voice sending a burst of power through my muscles. "I'm gonna save him and then I'm gonna get us the fuck out of here!"

With a growling cry, I hefted Loki even higher. Muscles in my arms pulled and tore, the pain flashing through my like lightning. But I didn't stop. As soon as we were both level with the top of the pit, I used my legs to pull myself backward until I was over the edge. Then, wrapping my other hand around his foot, I pulled until Loki's entire body came limply over the edge. I didn't stop until he was in my arms, safe and sound once more.

It took me a moment to catch my breath and another painful few to get my foot unstuck. I'd twisted my foot badly in the process of retrieving Loki, but I didn't care. A limp would go away in a few hours and the muscles in my arms would recover eventually. Despite the pain, it was worth it to have him back in my arms. And as soon as I had my feet under me, I carried him back across the river to the other side where the light was brighter and I could get a look at him. For once I was thankful for the cold water as it helped numb the pain.

On the other side, I placed Loki on the ground and looked him over. From what I could see, he'd bashed the side of his head on the rock as he fell. The wound still bled freely, and I put my hand over it, trying to stanch the flow. However, I only had to wait a couple of minutes for it to finally stop. He looked a fucking mess, but he was still breathing and the rest of him looked relatively untouched save for a few bruises and scratches. I wasn't sure if he would be alright. Head injuries were strange things. Sometimes people just didn't wake up.

Loki would though, right? He had to.

The emotions welling up inside me threatened to overwhelm my senses. I knew I had to distract myself and there was only one thing that could do that. The cave. We were still trapped and as far as I could tell, there was no way out.

Forcing my emotions down, I left Loki on the stone. I went back to the water, searching the gap to the outside like Loki had for any weaknesses or clues. Most of it was too thick to think of breaking through. But there was one section that was considerably thinner, possibly less than a foot of stone separating us from the outside world. I stood there for a moment, thinking it through. I knew that I wouldn't be able to break it away with my bare hands and we didn't have any tools. I could attempt to ram it with my shoulder, but I had a feeling that was just going to lead to a dislocated shoulder or worse, broken bones. Still, I wasn't ready to give up. Survival was possible. It had to be.

I reached down again, trying to feel where the stone was the thinnest. As my hand slid through the gap, I brushed a loose stone the size of my fist. The moment it did, a thought struck me. Grabbing the rock, I pulled it out of the water and turned it over in my hand. Maybe I could break through the wall.

With nothing to lose, there was no reason not to try. Hefting the stone, I reeled my arm back, got my fingers out of the way, and slammed the rock against the wall with my open palm. A loud bang echoed through the cave, my ears ringing from the impact. But, as I pulled my hand away, I heard a few small shards drop down into the water below and get swept out by the current. When I looked at the wall, I could see the definite indent where I'd damaged it.

Hope flared in me like a fire in my belly. Reeling back once more, I struck the rock again and again, little flecks of stone breaking away with each impact. However, I'd gone no more than a few minutes before the rock in my hand had broken apart too much to be useful. I wasn't giving up though. I walked over to the pit and put my entire weight against the stalagmites I'd wedged my foot into. They snapped off easily, my strength renewed by my determination to make sure Loki and I survived.

Then, I went back to the wall with a new, sharper stone in hand and started the process again. Each time I struck the wall and more stone chipped away, I felt myself grow stronger. I no longer felt the cold of the water or the sense of doom I'd had before. Instead, I was filled with an obstinate rage that set my blood on fire. My body shifted in its Alpha form, claws, fangs, and fur appearing as my muscles swelled to their limits. Growling and snarling, I chipped away at the wall like a wolf gone mad.

We were going to get out of this cave. And once we did, we were going to be mates. Come hell or high water, we'd figure it out. I'd never stop trying to figure it out until Loki was safe in my arms forever.

I wasn't going to stop until we were both free.