Chapter Thirty
Rey
I’m still reeling from a stupid nightmare.
In it, I was drowning, of course, as a whirlpool dragged me into the inky-cold depths of the sea. My father, Rowen, Aric, Reeve, and even Laufey were standing on the shoreline, watching.
The downward spiral. The crushing weight of the water—clearly, a metaphor for my responsibilities. It’s like my brain threw the worst of my stress onto a giant TV screen and forced me to watch.
I drag myself toward the mirror over my dorm sink.
My reflection looks like hell, but there’s no time to feel sorry for myself.
Ponytail, black spandex shorts, oversize black hoodie that nearly swallows them whole, and tennis shoes.
Good enough. It’s not my usual designer uniform, but it helps me blend in.
And tennis shoes beat heels if I end up chasing—or being chased. Yay college and possible death traps.
I’m already sweating by the time I pass through the lobby. I make a face when I shove open the front door of the dorm. One day at a time. One asshole at a time, too: also known as one Erikson at a time. I’ll be fine.
I pull out my phone to look at the campus map and start walking.
Everything from the ginormous trees to the heavy air is so damn thick up here, it feels like I’m wading through soup. And whose brilliant idea was it to design the different buildings so far apart from each other? Must it be an actual nature walk to get from point A to point B?
Gods, forget my earlier resentment of Bellevue. I miss the city. My attitude doesn’t get better as the Everett humidity assaults me like it has a personal vendetta against me or my kind.
Maybe the campus is cursed. Maybe it senses my blood and is already out to get me. I notice a few runes on the ground, spaced out like a sick version of hopscotch, and I sidestep them. Paranoid much? Yes. Absolutely.
Runes are used much like wards or a talisman.
By themselves, they are powerful, but together, you’ve got yourself some serious waves of protection and a giant-ass warning sign for all to feel.
I mean, most people won’t know what it is or why they feel like it’s hard to breathe, but ancient power is like that. It chokes you slowly.
By the time I stumble into the clearing beside the arts building, I’m fuming. And then I gasp—because it’s gorgeous.
An outdoor classroom is tucked among the trees, ringed with cement benches, sunlight scattering through the branches above.
And right next to the classroom are the blessed double doors to the arts building.
Advanced Ancient History. Can’t wait. I click through my schedule again on my phone.
Room nine, Dr. Tyrson. I scowl at my phone screen, then try to take a deep breath.
It’s fine. It’s just a job, a mission. I’ll have Laufey free from Odin’s clutches in no time and bouncing away from campus with Mjolnir in my hands, flipping off the Eriksons the entire way.
And if I learn some cool facts along the way, more power to me.
My vision suddenly blurs as the feeling of Aric’s hot mouth on mine takes over—seriously, why at the most inconvenient times? Nope. I’m burying that vision, it didn’t happen, will never happen, and it’s just a distraction. Can runes bring on visions?
I wouldn’t put it past Sigurd. If he can steal the most powerful weapon in the world, I’m sure visions are mere child’s play. It’s not like he isn’t powerful in his own right.
I need to remember that. Right now, it’s an even playing field, but I aim to change the odds to our favor.
The smell of cleaning solution fills my nose the minute I walk through the doors.
I make my way through crowds of eager students, and it’s so normal that it’s almost unreal to me.
Everyone’ s just existing, talking about their majors, about rushing, sports, life.
They have no idea, and the more I listen, the more bitter I feel.
Lives are on the line.
And these clueless kids are on dating apps.
People will die, and someone’s pissed that their TikTok didn’t go viral.
I roll my eyes and sweep past a group of guys, a few of them looking in my direction like they’re waiting for me to smile. I ignore the usual stares, push my Aethercall, and keep walking. I don’t have time for boys. I already have to tolerate Reeve. And Aric.
I finally make it into room nine and stare.
How typical—Aric’s sitting in the back, Reeve right next to him, engaging with a gaggle of women while tapping his pen on his thigh. Of course they’re hanging on every word he says. I narrow my eyes and peer past him to Aric.
Aric looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think he wasn’t even breathing—or maybe he’s just as irritated by the chatter as I am.
He radiates intensity, from his steady breaths to the way his pen spins between his fingers over and over again.
Then his eyes catch mine. He holds the stare for a beat before a smirk tugs at his lips—the same lips I can’t stop imagining.
There’s no softness in his gaze. Murder? He wears it like a second skin.
I move to the long desk in front of them and start putting down my things.
I start with my black Stanley, then pull out a pen, my notebook, my syllabus, and my planner.
See? I can be normal, too. I feel a weird sense of accomplishment when I grab my textbook, my fingers lingering over the front page. Ancient History.
A subject I know more about than I should.
“Hey.” A guy sidles up to me—low voice, bright blond hair, a pencil tucked behind his ear like a weapon he’s not afraid to use. Endir sweatshirt, arms crossed, staring me down like I owe him my number followed by an aggressive text followed by a heart emoji.
“Hey.” I look back at my textbook.
“Aren’t you a freshman?”
I clench my teeth. “Yup.”
“This is an advanced-level class,” he points out. “You must be beautiful and brilliant.”
“Yeah, okay.” He’s either trying to flirt or just doesn’t know how to talk to girls. I stand. “Listen—” I pause, waiting for his name. I have manners; they’re just buried under my zero tolerance for bullshit and guys who think the world owes them something.
“Zane,” he says proudly.
“Great, Zane, I’m going to save you the trouble. I’m one nervous breakdown away from turning into a serial killer, and my dad knows how to bury bodies very well. I wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole.”
“So true,” Reeve says under his breath from behind me. Okay, I may have been hoping for someone on my team, but this was not what I meant. Thanks, universe.
I keep talking. “I know I look fun, but I’m not some shiny trophy you pull out and polish when it suits you. I’m more the type who waits under your bed with a knife—”
“Or the closet,” Reeve says behind me helpfully. “Or the living room with the candlestick, the kitchen with the rope—honestly, dude, it doesn’t matter what objects she has, the end is always death. I’d run, don’t walk.”
Zane slowly backs away from me and whispers “bitch” under his breath.
“Nice to meet you!” I say cheerfully and take my seat again.
“Your first class and you already made someone cry. I had my bets on a professor, not a transfer for the football team,” Reeve grumbles. “Do you even know how to smile or talk in any way that isn’t dripping with sarcasm?”
“Sarcasm is supposed to be a semi-intelligent deterrent from idiots, and yet it never repels you. I can never figure out why.”
Reeve elbows Aric. “We’re drawn to danger.”
Aric snorts out a laugh. Okay, so he does still have a pulse. “I must admit, I’m curious about one thing.”
“Ah, he speaks.” I cross my arms. Finally. “Yes?”
“You were homeschooled the last two years, and even with AP classes, you still wouldn’t have the credits or prerequisites for Dr. Tyrson’s course. I call bullshit. It kinda feels like stalking at this point. Hate to break it to you, but the answer was no two years ago, and it’s still no now.”
Indignation scorches my throat. “Check your info again. I aced all my AP exams to be here. Sadly for you, that means you’re stuck with me all semester. May your eyes bleed from the torment.”
“I’m sitting behind you. Trust me, they already are.
” His dark eyes flash white briefly before turning back to normal, and suddenly I’m very aware that I have my back to a dangerous enemy, one who has no clue how powerful he really is and who I really shouldn’t piss off right now.
I calmly reach for a pen so I have something I can use as a weapon and wait.
A loud voice breaks the tension in the room. “If you haven’t already, open the app you were instructed to download along with your packets, locate your partner, and please sit next to them. Hurry up now; we don’t have all day.”
Dread washes over me.
This is a good thing, and yet…
I count the heavy steps moving in my direction.
I almost wince when the notebook drops, followed by the bag, then a pen that slowly rolls until it hits my hand. I look up into bright mahogany and extremely angry eyes. “Move over.”