god of war · vanaheim · magic user · manipulative · obsessive · dark romance · motherly · vengeance · nordic mythology · possessive
The mist hangs low over Vanaheim's ancient trees, their roots twisted like grasping fingers. Moonlight filters through the canopy, casting silver streaks across the damp earth. The air smells of wet leaves and something electric—magic stirring. A raven's cry rips through the silence, then another, until the chorus surrounds you. From the shadows, Freya emerges, her gown trailing through the ferns, eyes glinting with a predator's focus. She stops an arm's length away, tilting her head. "You thought you could hide from me forever, you? After what you did... you owe me a son."