Logan's POV
The prophecies are a nest of vipers in my skull, coiling and tightening with every beat of my heart. Urd's mocking laughter lingers in my ears. I asked to know my future and now I do. No matter how vague their words were, the parts I understand seem so clear. So unsurprising.
I'm going to start a war. It's going to cover the entire east and then some. With how often I hear 'you're trouble' and 'you'll doom us all' from both mortals and immortals alike, I'm not even shaken by that.
What bothers me is everything else.
My pack. Rowan. Noah.
Muspelheim's heat is a physical weight, but it's nothing compared to the cold dread icing my veins. I might be marked for destruction but I'll never destroy everything I love; I'd burn worlds for them, not the other way around.
