Chapter Thirty-Three Edith
As soon as I’m outside, I take a deep breath, sucking in the cold air. I can still hear the shouting, still see the aggression in Nils’s face. There was something dark in his eyes when he looked at me. Something… possessive.
I rub my arms, trying to calm myself down. Over the years, I’ve tried all sorts of different trauma therapy, like PE, CPT, CBT, but they didn’t help me much. The latest therapist Jim and Patricia found me practiced EMDR.
I know what she would tell me.
Think of your calm, safe place.
So I close my eyes and summon a long, smooth stretch of track in my mind. A place where nothing can touch me. I imagine running over the track, fast and free, outrunning all my problems—my breathing labored, my skin soaked, my muscles screaming.
I’m safe.
There’s a burst of sound as the dining hall door opens: talk and laughter and the din of plates clattering. The rich aroma of lamb soup fills the air, pulling me back to reality. The noise quiets again as the door swings closed, and then—
“Edith, are you all right?”
My eyes fly open at Amund’s voice. “Yeah. Fine.”
He frowns as he joins me. “I can tell you’re not.”
“I know.” I blow out a breath. “Sorry. I hate confrontation.”
His brown eyes search mine, a faint crease forming between his brows. “Me too, actually.”
A laugh escapes me. “You? Really? A hunter?”
Amund offers me a small smile.
His dimple makes my stomach swoop. This is one of the first times I’ve seen him out of his leathers.
I like him this way. He seems more human.
I assumed someone like him would be unfazed by violence, even if he doesn’t like it.
Amund always surprises me. What else would I discover if I got to know him?
When I can’t take the silence any longer, I speak up. “Any time there’s screaming or raised voices, I don’t know… I just can’t deal with it. My parents used to fight all the time. That’s why I had to leave.”
“I understand,” Amund offers.
From the way he says it, I can tell he’s sincere.
“My dad was always awful to my mom.” Normally, this is the last thing I want to talk about, but for some reason, I feel like I can open up to Amund.
“Whenever they fought, they told me to go into my bedroom and be a good girl. So it just kind of became automatic. I’d run to my room, telling myself that if I was good enough, they’d finally stop fighting.
” I try to laugh, but my throat is thick. “I never was, I guess.”
Amund listens to every word.
Once I’m finished, he says, “What your father did wasn’t your fault.”
“I know that. At least logically, like I know it wasn’t my mom’s fault either. But some part of me still blames her.” I stare at my sneakers, ashamed by the words as soon as I say them. “I know. It’s awful. I’m awful. But I… I never understood why she stayed with someone like that.”
Silence.
After a long moment, Amund says, “Sometimes leaving is harder than staying.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s like a snap trap,” he continues. “You don’t realize you stepped into one until its jaws close around your leg. Once you do, it’s too late to leave. You have to choose between the pain of the metal crunching your ankle or severing your foot to be free.”
“Is that why you stay with your dad?” I ask, searching his face.
“Part of it,” he says. “I don’t know what he would do if he lost both his sons.
I’d rather remain than let something happen to my brother or mother.
If my dad ever did anything to them, I’d never forgive myself.
” Amund looks away, dragging a hand through his hair.
“Staying by his side is the only way I can protect them now. And… I do still love my father. I can’t imagine life without him. ”
I chew on one of my nails, not knowing what to say to that.
Mom did the same thing, didn’t she? She bore the brunt of Dad’s anger so Bea and I wouldn’t have to.
How must that feel? Like you’ve locked yourself in a cage with an animal to keep them from escaping and hurting anyone else. But what about my mom?
What about Amund?
Behind him, I notice a couple walking through campus—
Wait. My stomach sinks. That’s Tala and Isaac.
Amund turns, following my gaze.
“That’s Isaac,” I mutter. “We should see where they’re going.”
We trail them to a tower near the middle of campus.
“Why would he be bringing Tala up there?” I ask Amund.
He turns to me. “There’s only one of two reasons people go up there. The tower is a good vantage spot. Hunters often use it to see the whole campus. It’s usually secluded. Quiet. I sometimes go up there to clear my mind.”
“What’s the other reason?”
Amund hesitates, looking embarrassed. “Well, because it’s private and has a nice view…” He looks completely flustered now as he struggles to find the right words. It’s kind of adorable, actually. “Couples tend to go there to… well, you know…”
His eyes meet mine briefly before he looks away.
I crane my neck back, but the tower is too tall. Hopefully what I told Tala isn’t putting her in more danger. I shudder, imagining her confronting Isaac about it, only for him to push her off the tower.
“We better go too,” I urge him. “What if Isaac hurts Tala?”
Reluctantly, Amund opens the door, revealing a flight of stairs.
No sign of them.
The muscles in my legs are screaming by the time we finally reach the top.
Outside, the tower isn’t empty at all. Two berserkr boys whisper to each other, sharing a romantic moment.
There are hunters and witches too, but everyone here is…
embracing, actually. Or more. I clear my throat, suddenly feeling awkward as I look around at all the couples, their mouths locked together.
I lower my voice until it’s a whisper. “Seems like the tower is a popular spot tonight.”
Amund frowns. “Normally, by the time I come here, I have the place to myself.”
Tala and Isaac are standing on the opposite side, their backs turned to us. Unlike the other couples, they aren’t making out. They lean together on the wall, having a heated exchange.
“I shouldn’t blame myself?” Isaac asks. “Seriously, Tala?”
I try to listen in but pick up another conversation instead.
“The northern lights were supposed to be visible tonight,” a hunter near us says. “Damn it, I really wanted to watch them with you, but there’s too many clouds.”
The witch he’s with grins. “Lucky for you, I think I can do something about that.”
I lean closer to Amund. “Can you hear what they’re saying?”
He shakes his head. “Too much chatter.”
“Come on,” I say, tugging on Amund’s sleeve. “We have to get closer.”
I claim one of the free spots along the wall, closer to Tala and Isaac.
They must not have noticed us. Yet. I lean over the ledge as I look out at the campus.
Amund was right. You can see all of Skallagrim from here.
The aurora borealis is covered, but it gives the clouds a gentle green glow, reminding me of one of Bea’s watercolor paintings.
Amund and I fall silent, listening.
“This is such a mess.” Isaac leans on the outlook, hanging his head. “It’s all my fucking fault Emilía is dead.”
Amund and I exchange a look. Sounds like a confession to me.
Tala rests a hand on Isaac’s back. “If it’s your fault, then it’s mine, too.”
He pulls away from her like she burned him. “When are you going to tell them?” Isaac asks, suddenly emotional. “How long are we going to keep pretending?”
Tala sighs heavily. “Soon. I just don’t want to disappoint them. You have no idea how much trouble I’d be in if they found out I was lying to them this whole time. My parents are both on the board.”
Isaac frowns, turning toward her. “I know, but your feelings matter more.”
He’s looking in our direction. Shit.
I whirl around to face Amund, hoping Isaac didn’t notice me.
I end up staring at Amund instead of hiding.
The white button-down he’s wearing emphasizes how broad his shoulders are.
Our eyes meet. Silent understanding passes between us.
I reach up for his shoulders and rest my hands on them, running my fingers over them gently. Just so we blend in with everyone else.
There’s a break in the clouds, revealing bright green ribbons of light in the dark sky. Everyone around us gasps, tilting their heads up to look at the aurora. A sense of awe and wonder expands inside my chest as I take in its beauty.
Behind us, Isaac and Tala turn around to leave.
I can’t be seen with Amund. Especially not here.
If they realize we’re tailing them, it’s all over. Before they can see me, I grab Amund by his collar and pull him against me so he’s blocking me from view. Behind him, the aurora borealis dances in the sky. I press my lips to his to make it more convincing.
Amund’s eyes widen, taken aback by my boldness.
I’m not sure he realizes it’s just to blend in and avoid being caught.
At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.
But as my mouth moves over his, it’s hard to stop myself from kissing him.
At first Amund seems caught off guard, like me kissing him was the last thing he expected when he brought me up here.
But then his hands close over my hips. He pulls me against his body and kisses me with a hunger. Something inside me responds, meeting his mouth with equal intensity. My heart pounds and my head spins as I kiss him like it’s a competition.
When I finally manage to pull away, I’m out of breath.
Amund’s gaze roves over me. “What was that?”
I stand on my tiptoes and whisper in his ear. “They almost saw us. I had to make it look convincing.”
My heart is pounding wildly as I inhale the slightly sweet scent of his sandalwood soap. For some reason, I want to grab Amund and kiss him again. And again. I’ve made out with boys before, but it never felt like this.
In the glow of the northern lights, I study Amund’s chiseled features. Until recently, he was hunting me, so why do I feel safe with him? He represents everything about the reason why I swore off dating in the first place. I look at all the couples around us.
Loving someone is… dangerous. It allows them to hurt you.
That’s why I swore not to give my heart to anyone.
And yet, I close the distance between us, searching his face as if I can find answers there.
He reaches for me and rests his hand on my cheek.
Despite his strength, Amund is surprisingly gentle as he caresses my skin.
I lean into his touch, savoring the feel of his rough calluses from his tireless training.
The moment stretches out between us, too long and not long enough—
Realization strikes me like a match.
How many berserkir has he hurt with those hands?
Even worse: Aren’t I doing exactly what Mom did? Caring about someone who can hurt me?
I can’t. I can’t do this.
Amund isn’t safe. He never will be. I need to remember that.
Taking a step back, I wall myself off from him. “I’m sorry, I should go. It’s getting late.”
“Right, of course,” Amund says, but he looks disappointed. “Can I walk you back?”
I shake my head. “I’ll be fine. You should keep an eye on Isaac, right?”
“Right.” He nods, but the crease between his brows remains. “I’ll see you Thursday, then.”
“See you,” I say noncommittally before running down the stairs.
I hurry toward the berserkr campus. The thought of being in a relationship has never even crossed my mind… until now. And that might be the scariest thing about Amund. How easily I could see myself actually caring about him.
Maybe working with him is a mistake after all.