Chapter Twenty-Seven
Rey
I quickly download the Endir campus interactive app on my phone, then follow the herd to the activity tables. I make a show of studying the sign-up sheets without actually signing up for anything, then grab my final enrollment packet and beeline out the door.
I’ve got two hours before my first class.
I jog back to my room, ready to plan or plot, or possibly take a quick power nap before classes, but when I jerk open my door, something goes whizzing by my face.
I snatch it out of the air and slam the door shut behind me to assess my attacker.
“A rock, Rowen? Really?” Only when I look, it’s not a rock. It’s a marble chess piece. The one missing from the photo Father texted me earlier.
The queen.
I set it down on the nightstand.
“A gift from your father,” he says.
But we both know it’s not a present. It’s a warning.
“You didn’t have to throw it at me.”
“I knew you’d catch it,” he says, as if that makes up for it. He stands from my bed and looks me over, so I do the same. His blond hair is pulled back into a tight man bun, and he’s still in his black suit. “You look like shit, by the way.”
“I really wish people would stop stating the obvious.”
The corners of his mouth reveal his dimples. I’ve missed his easy smile. I hate it when he’s always on guard.
“I need to go shower and possibly fit in a nap before my first class. Everything good? Where’s your little texting shadow? Does she even look up from her phone when she speaks?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Where else? She’s putting on a face mask in front of her phone. You know, to prep for class and the rest of the opening week activities, all while delivering content to the masses. I see a lot of peopling in my future.”
I burst out laughing. God, it feels good to relax, even just a bit. “Your absolute favorite thing to do. Lucky you.”
“I don’t think she understands that I’m not a paid friend but a bodyguard because her father’s a paranoid board member who thinks someone’s out to get him.” He rolls his eyes, but then his face goes grave. “Odin’s mostly placating him, but there have been more threats lately, so…”
I yawn. “Who did my father piss off this time?”
“I didn’t ask. Don’t want to know.” His gaze darts between the door and me. I don’t like the look he’s sending my way or how he takes a breath like he’s preparing to drop some seriously bad news. “Odin had another rage-fueled episode today. They’re getting worse, Rey.”
“What happened?”
“Hell if I know. Something set him off. He broke four chessboards. Four people dead without batting an eye.”
“Gods.”
He shrugs. “Most of his inner circle, they aren’t saints by any stretch. But within the corporation, there are hundreds of employees. Inevitably, innocent people are going to get hurt. Not only is it bad for business, but it brings unwanted attention at a very critical time.”
My thoughts drift to the other students.
They have families, friends. I just met Eira, and even though she isn’t one of my favorite people, I wouldn’t want harm to come to her or to her dad.
And then there’s Ziva. She’s already had my back more than once.
Can I really live with putting her in danger?
“The more his power wanes, the more he loses his grip on reality.”
I’ve always suspected it was getting worse, but to hear Rowen state it so bluntly…
Odin’s life force is tied to Asgard. Being cut off from the source for so long, of course he’s growing weaker and lashing out at people. Power is just like time—eventually, it runs out.
“How is Laufey?” I prod. I haven’t texted her, knowing that my father will be monitoring her phone, and the last thing I want is to get her into trouble.
Rowen lets out a sigh. “You know how she is. She loves baking and her garden. She’s been outside a lot more recently. I think it’s to get some breathing room from Odin, but he always checks in on her.”
“Checks in on his prisoner, you mean?” I let out a snort. “It’s good that he’s not hurting her—”
“He will, though. Soon. If her illness doesn’t take her first. Odin doesn’t make empty threats.” He sighs. “He does care for her…in his own way.”
But that’s the whole of it really. What little emotion my father is capable of will not sway him.
“Don’t defend him, Rowen. It only makes me want to punch you, and I actually like you. Can we be done with this conversation? I’m doing the best I can, but it’s been two days. I can’t really skip around campus asking questions, and getting close to the Erikson heir hasn’t exactly been a thrill.”
Aric’s hostile.
Angry.
A dangerous bottle of uncontrollable emotion that could break at any time.
“Do you feel anything…” My voice trails off. “Different at Endir, I mean. I know you’ve always had your secrets, but do you feel weaker here? More unbalanced? From Sigurd’s power? The ridiculous amount of runes?”
Rowen looks down at the ground and tenses. “You’ve seen my scars. Since I set foot on campus, they burn as if they’re brand-new cuts, Rey. How’s that for different?” He squeezes his eyes shut. “Sorry, you didn’t deserve that.”
I stare at his right arm. It looks like someone raked their nails down his skin, trails leading up to his fingertips scarred so severely, he almost looks like a burn victim. “The Eriksons, their entire bloodline, will pay for what they did to you.”
He doesn’t flinch, but I see the rage in his eyes, rage from a lost war, lost family—lost everything.
“It’s deeper than that, and you know it.
You need to work faster. Aric isn’t an idiot, and neither is his grandfather.
Odin and Sigurd were at war for millennia.
Being trapped here may have kindled some temporary ceasefire, but that’s all it is. There will never be peace.”
His words leave me feeling hollow.
“They’ve let you into their world for now, and they might be content to toy with you and play nice for a little while. But don’t make the mistake of thinking the Giants are weak. Tread carefully and move fast.”
Helpful.
“You’re Odin’s daughter. Mjolnir should be drawn to you.”
I know all of these things, but hearing them repeated out loud makes my task feel so much more daunting.
I toss my phone on the bed and pull my hair back into a low bun.
“Odin says you have a claim to the same bloodline through your family, though diluted. So why won’t it react to you, too?
” I finish my hair and cross my arms. “It would be a lot easier to tag team this, you know.”
He licks his lips. Something he does when he’s buying time to think about his answer—because he never just reacts.
Always assesses first. “I wish it did. But what little trace of Odin is left in my blood isn’t enough to wield the most powerful weapon in the world.
The accident ruined me—I bled out so much that sometimes I wonder if the part that mattered is still even there.
” His face darkens. “Can we not talk about this right now?”
“Sorry, it’s just that you’ve never told me, and maybe it could be helpful to talk about it.”
“It won’t be.” He shakes his head. “I’ve already lived through enough trauma for a lifetime, Rey.”
“I didn’t mean to dredge up—”
“Forget it,” he says quickly, walking over to the window, body tense.
I know he’s scarred, inside and out. Though it shouldn’t, it makes me think of Aric. Losing his parents. Being struck by lightning in that freak accident.
“How many volts are in an average bolt of lightning?” I ask Rowen.
He whips around, nostrils flaring like the question pisses him off.
He quickly recovers and rubs his eyes. “Sorry, I’m tired and not used to you asking questions that have nothing to do with revenge, fighting, death, or fries.
Plus, I’m exhausted over Odin’s Mjolnir obsession.
I get why we need it, but it’s not…his.”
“I mean, technically it’s his. My father’s the one who had the hammer crafted.”
Rowen’s still rubbing his eyes, but his back stiffens, his hands balling into fists. Concerned, I reach for him. “Hey, are you feeling okay?”
In an instant, he has me pushed up against the wall, his hand at my neck while my feet dangle in the air. I tug at his hand, panicking, needing air. What is going on? He’s never once tried to hurt me.
“Rowen,” I choke. “Rowen!”
His eyes are fathomless, like dark holes, before he leans in and runs his nose up and down my neck. His voice is raspy. “It isn’t Erikson’s or Odin’s! It was gifted to the most powerful God in the realm, and I’m fucking tired of people ignoring his sacrifice!”
“Put.” I kick at his legs. “Me.” I kick harder. “Down.”
If I don’t get through to him soon, I’m going to pass out.
I’m going to die.