Chapter Thirty-Four Amund
After class ends on Thursday, I remain on the training grounds for a different reason than usual. Pacing back and forth, I’m getting worried. The clock has already chimed twice, and Edith still hasn’t shown up for training. Is she avoiding me after what happened at the tower?
My mind wanders back to our kiss. I nearly miss a step, recalling how warm and soft her lips were. Softer than I would’ve ever imagined. Until then I’d never been kissed before. At first I didn’t know what to do, but then instinct took over.
Edith made it clear it was meaningless, just a way to hide from Isaac. After she left, I ensured that her friend Tala was safe. When I finally finished patrol, I returned to my room for a restless night. Yesterday was no better. Another day of distraction.
All I could think about was seeing Edith today.
Clearing my throat, I place my spear in the rack. The later it gets, the more my worries grow. Should I go looking for her? Or would she want me to give her space? What if she’s in danger? What if—
“Waiting for Daddie Dearest?” Val asks, striding over to me.
“No. Someone else.”
“Oh?” That seems to interest her. She leans against her spear with that mischievous look she often gets. “Who might that be?”
When I say nothing, her grin only widens. “Don’t tell me it’s a girl? Maybe I’ll stay too.”
I grimace at her teasing tone. “There’s no need.”
Val shakes her head, her braids swaying. “Oh, I disagree. Now I simply have to know who this mysterious girl is.”
“No one,” I grumble.
“Mh-mmm. Right.” Val narrows her eyes. “I’m not buying that for a minute. Spill.”
I blow out a heavy breath. I know Val. Now that she’s interested in this, she won’t stop asking questions until I give her something. But I can’t tell her I’m waiting for Edith. After Idris’s death, Val would never understand why I agreed to work with a berserkr.
No hunter would.
“She’s a friend of my brother’s,” I say, deciding to start with the truth. I try to remind myself of that too. Edith is Nils’s friend. Not mine. I don’t know if Edith and I ever could be friends. Let alone more. “She… asked me to teach her self-defense.”
Val raises an eyebrow. “You don’t mean…”
While I’m fumbling for a response, I hear footsteps approaching.
We both turn at the same time. Edith is walking toward us, one arm covering her stomach as she clutches her elbow. She looks as reluctant as I feel. “Hi…”
Val shoots daggers at me with her eyes. “Amund, a word please?”
I glance between her and Edith. “Sorry, give us a moment.”
Val grabs my arm, dragging me away. “What the hell are you thinking, bringing a berserkr here? We don’t help berserkir, Amund. We hunt them. You saw what they did to Idris, right?”
I grimace. “She can still hear us, you know.”
“Good.” Val blows out a breath. “She needs to be reminded of it too. Berserkir and hunters do not mix.”
I can’t help but recall my kiss with Edith. How well she fit against me. How right it felt to hold her in my arms. I never wanted to let go.
“I don’t care,” I say, my voice hardening. I still remember what she looked like, covered with blood. Trembling in terror. How much she reminded me of Nils when he was younger. “I’m going to help her. It’s what Idris would want.”
Val recoils. “Yeah, well, look what happened to him.”
I clench my jaw, unwilling to dignify her remark.
When I say nothing, Val keeps going. “Whatever is happening here, it won’t end well.” Her gaze darts from me to Edith. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Amund.”
With that, Val strides off, leaving the two of us alone.
My cheeks grow hot. I can’t bring myself to meet Edith’s gaze.
“Don’t mind her. Val hates berserkir.”
“Yeah,” Edith says slowly. “I can tell.”
“Shall we get started?” I ask.
Edith nods. Dressed like she is, it’s hard not to imagine her in hunter leathers instead. How much easier things would be if we were both hunters. Val’s warning comes back to me. Whatever is happening here, it won’t end well.
“We’ll start with something simple,” I tell her, trying to focus. “Remove your dagger and show me where you’d strike.”
She hesitates before freeing her dagger.
I do my best not to stare.
“I wasn’t sure you’d show up today,” I say as she faces me.
“Me either,” Edith admits, holding the dagger between us. “I’m sorry I freaked out the other night. And for… you know. That.”
I lower my gaze to her mouth. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”
I could lose myself in those lips of hers. If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about our kiss. I’ve barely slept since, reliving it every night.
Her hand trembles as she holds the dagger.
She’s hesitating. I can tell.
“It’s okay,” I say, urging her on. “Show me where you’d strike if I were attacking you.”
I take a step toward her.
Something in her stance changes. Edith brings the dagger up to my throat.
“Here, probably,” she says, the blade resting beneath my Adam’s apple.
“Not far off.” I take her hand in mine, guiding her dagger up and to the side. “The carotid artery and jugular vein are right here. Slash one of those, and the target will be unconscious within fifteen seconds. Sometimes less.”
Her hand shakes in my grip. “Okay.”
My jaw tightens at her obvious discomfort. “I know it can be a lot. If you want to practice something else, we can.”
Edith searches my face, her dagger still resting against my throat. Resolve enters her eyes. “I need to learn how to protect myself.”
“All right, then.” I guide her hand to my left pectoral. “Above the heart and to the outside will cut the pectoral muscle. If you slash horizontally, you can sever the cephalic vein.”
My heart hammers, beating beneath her blade, a reminder of how close she is. I don’t know who this is more challenging for: me or her. I’m fully alert to her presence, hyperaware of her every movement. My senses are even sharper than usual.
“The next area is the abdomen, like I showed you last time,” I say, lowering her dagger there. “Either a long vertical or horizontal slash will work. Just imagine a large cross in this area here. That will disembowel your target.”
Just like the killer is doing, I realize after saying the words.
“When did you learn all this?” Edith asks, her voice unsteady.
Beneath my leathers, scars map each of the areas like a diagram in a textbook. My father marked each one shallowly so I would never forget where to strike. My hand tightens around hers at the memory. “A long time ago.”
She withdraws the knife and takes a step back. “I’m sorry.”
That surprises me.
“Don’t be,” I say after a moment. “It’s how I survived.”
As the words escape, I’m reminded of something Father once said to me. When it comes to survival, never be sorry. Looking at Edith standing before me, I am. I’m sorry that I only know how to hurt, to kill, and not to love. Until Edith kissed me, I didn’t even know how to do that.
I’m relieved when it’s time for patrol.
After being so close to Edith, my nerves feel frayed. I wanted so badly to wrap my hands around her waist, close that distance separating us, and feel her soft lips on mine again. I’m still thinking of her when I reach Father’s office.
We have the same patrol assignments as last time. Val and I are taking the berserkr campus.
She looks less than thrilled about it.
As we head out, Val glances over at me. “Maybe you’ll run into your girlfriend again.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” I say roughly.
That will never happen. I don’t need the reminder.
Val looks me over. “If you’re worried, don’t be. I didn’t tell Daddie Dearest.”
“Thank you.”
I’m so relieved, I don’t even scold her about the nickname.
“Whatever.” She shrugs, trying to play it off. “I mean, no way am I going to be the one to tell him. I’m not touching that. Still doesn’t mean I approve of what you’re doing. Getting involved with a berserkr is a huge mistake. There’s no world where this ends well, especially not now.”
“I know that already.”
“Then what the hell are you even doing?” Val asks, her frustration only growing. I can’t tell if she’s more frustrated with me or herself. “If you know you can’t be with her, then stop wasting your time and hers.”
“Are you talking about Edith or Tala now?”
Her eyes widen. “C’est assez!”
I have no idea what she just said.
But I do know if Val is speaking French, she’s pissed.
“God, whatever,” she says in English, dragging a hand over her braids. “You know what? Let’s split up. I’ll take left, you go right.”
With that, Val storms off.
“Fine,” I call after her.
I can’t remember the last time Val and I had an argument.
I blow out an unsteady breath.
Focus, Amund. Concentrate on patrol. I can’t let a disagreement distract me. Even if Val really struck a nerve.
The killer is still out here.
As I move through the dark, empty berserkr campus, my mind keeps wandering to Edith.
Her lips on mine. How small she felt against me while I shielded her with my body up in the tower.
I didn’t want to let her go. Before I knew it, my hands were on her hips so I could pull her closer, tugging her against my chest—
Val is right. What the hell am I doing?
No matter how I might feel about Edith, I can’t do that to my brother. I’ve already hurt Nils enough. Relationships are just distractions, anyway. And it’s not like Edith would even want to be with someone like me. A hunter. A killer.
With every step I take, Val’s words keep repeating in my head.
If you know you can’t be with her, then stop wasting your time and hers.
As I near Odin Hall, its spire blocks out the moonlight, casting a deep shadow on the courtyard. It’s hard for me to see. Unlike an animal, I don’t have good night vision, which puts me at a disadvantage. I glance in every direction, my frustration growing.
One of the nearby lamps flickers.
Something emerges from the shadows, stepping into the lamp’s light. A massive, misshapen wolf rises on his hind legs, with hunched shoulders and long arms dangling by his sides. This is unlike any berserkir I’ve ever seen in the Wilds. Less dire wolf, more werewolf.
Glowing, empty white eyes settle on me.
Wait, white eyes—?
The werewolf lunges for me, slamming me to the ground.
I wrestle the beast, trying to kick it off, but it’s massive, more powerful than any berserkir I’ve ever encountered.
Grunting, I manage to grab my dagger and plunge it into the werewolf’s side.
The blade is met with a dull thunk, unable to pierce his flesh.
Damn it. Gritting my teeth, I struggle to keep its fangs away from my face.
All I can do is use my knife like a stick to keep it from chomping on me, my arms straining as I try to hold the beast back.
Drool drips on me, wet and thick as I fight for my life with every last ounce of strength I have. Come on—
My blade snaps in two.
As its fangs approach, I do the only thing I can think of. I throw my forearm over my face in a last desperate defense.
Jaws close around my arm.
Bone crunches.
A scream rips from me as the wolf bites down harder. With a burst of strength, I manage to kick out at the berserkr. Its back legs buckle. I move my other arm, straining to reach my broken blade—
In a blur of movement, knives fly at the beast.
The wolf releases me with a sharp yelp.
Val is sprinting toward me. “Amund!”
The berserkr darts off.
She falls over me. “Shit, are you okay?”
I must be in bad shape if she’s this worried.
“Fine,” I choke out, but blood bubbles from between my lips. I give a wet cough, trying to breathe, but my ribs feel like they’ve been crushed. Each breath is more painful than the last.
Val whips out her radio, her hands trembling. “Amund needs help!” she practically screams. “Please, you have to hurry.”
I groan. “Don’t—”
The last thing I need is Father finding out about this. I was careless. Stupid.
Val kneels beside me. “Can you stand?”
I push up against the ground, trying to rise to my feet, but cannot. “Follow the wolf,” I rasp, more blood splattering down my leathers. “You have to catch it.”
“There’s no way in hell I’m leaving you again,” Val says. “I never should have left earlier.”
Groaning, I struggle to get up. “Have to—”
“Enough, damn it,” Val says, her voice thick. “The only place you’re going is the infirmary.”
“She’s right,” Father says, startling us with his sudden appearance.
Val blinks a few times. “That was quick.”
“I was nearby.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you were,” Val says quickly.
She takes one shoulder while he lifts the other, and the two of them help me up. My feet drag over the dirt. It isn’t easy, but we manage. Thankfully, the infirmary isn’t far. Otherwise, I don’t think I’d be able to make it.
“Help!” Val shouts once we’re inside.
Mother rushes over, wiping her hands on her skirt, eyes darkening a bit when she spots Father before her gaze slides to me. Her face turns panic-stricken. “Oh my gods, Amund. What happened?”
“He was attacked,” Val says.
“Get him on the bed,” Mother orders. “Hurry up.”
As they lower me, my vision starts to narrow.
“Hold on, Amund.” Val’s face hovers over me. “You’re my family now. Please, I can’t lose you, too.”
Mother is there. So is Father.
I try to speak, but the world constricts to a pinpoint.
Then everything goes dark.