Chapter Forty-Seven
Aric
The knock is so loud I nearly fall out of bed. A quick glance at the clock tells me it’s still the middle of the night. If it’s Reeve, drunk and wanting to chat, I’m going to murder him. Heart pounding, I fling the door open.
Rey stands there. Barefoot. Blank-eyed. Vulnerable. Looking like every victim in a crime show right before the other shoe drops.
She’s holding a chipped mug that says Cats Are People, Too.
Without a word, she brushes past me, heads to my sink, fills the mug with water, and chugs it like she’s been lost in a desert for a week.
It pours down her chin, splashing across her bare legs, which just makes me realize how bare they are.
Legs. Bare legs. Where the hell are her pants?
My gaze jerks upward. She’s in nothing but underwear and a silk pajama top that swallows her small frame while simultaneously hugging to every detail. I can see her nipples peeking through the fabric, and my mouth goes dry.
“Rey?” My voice cracks. “Rey, wake up. Seriously. I don’t want to die in my sleep, and neither do you. Just…go back to your room.”
She doesn’t listen. Just pushes at my chest with the mug still in her hand, shoving me back toward the bed. Is this some sort of weird side effect of unlocking the third rune? Before I can react, she crawls in beside me, dragging me with her, pinning me to the wall.
“Rey,” I warn. I’d agreed that, for a while at least, we could be on the same side. I didn’t mean the same side of the fucking bed.
Don’t think about her legs. This is one complication we don’t need to add to the mix. “Don’t make me carry you—”
She throws a leg over me, anchoring me in place.
And suddenly I’m calm.
So calm.
Just like I was when she kissed me in Sigurd’s office, when she tried to get me to stop reacting. Just like I was when we touched the third rune.
What if we just let ourselves?
To rest like this with her.
To drown in the quiet she brings amid the chaos. Her weight against me is steady, grounding, like the storm in my blood is finally silent—not just silent, at peace.
Her breath feathers against my neck. “Just five minutes,” she whispers, voice thick with sleep.
And Gods help me, my eyes grow heavy.
Maybe death would be worth whatever sleep follows this.
The last thing I think of is a home I don’t even know, with trees so tall they blot out the sun.
Branches tangled in silver frost that never melts.
Jagged icy mountains rise in the distance with their peaks swallowed up by storm clouds.
The air smells like iron and snow, yet beneath it lingers the warmth of pine smoke, like a fire burning just out of reach.
Like the warm feeling of the sunrays—like the warm touch of Rey.
I jerk awake when my alarm goes off, and two things happen at once. Rey looks up at me from the bed and screams, while simultaneously punching me in the face.
“Son of a bitch!” I roar. “What the actual fuck, woman. It’s too early for this shit! Get out of my room!”
She stumbles out of the bed, collapsing on the ground before getting up and shouting again. “Why am I in your room? Your bed!” she roars back. Okay, so she was definitely sleepwalking, then.
I rub my sore eye. “Right, it definitely tracks that I just went over to your room, picked your lock, grabbed your feisty little body, careful not to forget the very un-Rey-Stjerne-like cat mug, and decided to use you as a teddy bear. Do I look like I want to sleep with a prickly, knife-wielding cactus?”
She retreats toward the door, opening it slightly to leave, but then turns back.
“I happen to like that cat mug, thank you very much. And why am I a cactus? And they don’t carry knives, Aric!
They have…pointy things that, you know— Shit, what are their names again?
It’s early. Why am I here, why am I here with you, why am I not—”
“You should wear pants to sleep, Rey. Seriously.”
Wrong thing to say. Her eyes immediately darken like she’s going to stab me with her knife after all.
She jumps a foot when a knock sounds at the door. Then someone pushes it the rest of the way open.
Reeve waltzes in with a coffee in hand and then stops dead in his tracks, his head swiveling back and forth between us. His mouth opens.
“Say. Nothing,” I hiss, voice heavy with sleep and annoyance. Where are the storms now? One would think lightning would strike right between us in this moment.
He holds up his coffee. “I didn’t. My breath was bated, but I have the restraint of a much older man. So what, did she crawl out of a coffin to come and murder you, or was this a…planned event?”
I shoot him a glare. “I was sleeping in peace when Stalker Stjerne—”
“Has a nice ring to it.” He laughs.
“I thought so, too.” I smirk.
“Hey!” Rey yells.
“Anyway,” I continue, “this one makes her way over here, drinks my water out of her weird cat mug, then pins me to my bed and…sleeps.”
“Oh, she sleeps.” Reeve winks. “Got it.”
“No, that’s not code for sex, Reeve. She literally kept me prisoner and slept.”
“Please!” Rey grabs one of my sweatshirts and tugs it on. “Like I’m strong enough to pin you to anything. You’re a Giant!”
Her face pales like she knows she just called me out, but Reeve doesn’t so much as flinch.
He knows I come from a strong bloodline, and that’s all Sigurd has trusted him with. My protection at all costs. It’s a level of secrecy he’s always been fine with, especially since my accident. Reeve isn’t really the type to ponder the mysteries of the world.
I frown. “Yeah, I know I’m pretty tall, but you’re still scrappy and strong, and I may have also fallen asleep. It was a rough night.”
“Unbelievable!” She stomps her foot. “Both of you.” She eyes Reeve, then his coffee. “I’ll just take that and be on my way.”
It’s out of his hands before he can do or say anything. The door slams behind her, leaving me feeling guilty for doing…literally nothing.
Reeve leans against the door. “She pinned you? How, again, did she manage that? I’m genuinely curious, because one six-six guy plus one five-foot-nothing girl? The math isn’t checking out.”
I groan and throw a pillow at him. “She was sleepwalking.”
“Sure.” He nods, but then all the teasing leaves his face. “You going to be okay today? After last night’s storm, I mean.” I don’t answer. He clears his throat and tries again. “So, runes on your back, hmm?”
I nod, unsure of how much to tell him beyond the bare bones I texted him late last night. “You know I have abilities.”
“I know.” He crosses his arms. “Does Sigurd know about…” He nods toward the rumpled bed.
“Sigurd knows I’m playing the long game.” It’s not a total lie. “Sometimes it’s better to keep the enemy close, you know?”
Reeve makes a face. “I don’t think Sigurd meant naked close, but you do you—and her, apparently.”
I glare at him. “It was an accident. But still, what better way to gain the upper hand than get her to trust me with everything—mind, body, soul.” I feel dirty, repulsive saying it, but I can’t trust anyone. Not even myself.
This is the first time I’m doing something on my own, the first time Sigurd is trusting me with something huge since the broken engagement.
I’m not going to mess up. Besides, she’s leading me to a very real way to finally kill her father: Mjolnir.
We’ll trade a life for a life. His blood will be spilled, as it should have been years ago.
I’ll wipe him from this world—just like he wiped out my parents.
This doesn’t go against my truce with Rey. If anything, she should thank me for it.
Reeve sighs and snaps his fingers. “Shirt off. Let’s take a look.”
“You’re not a doctor, and it’s not like I have a disease.” I keep my shirt firmly on.
One eyebrow arches. “Dude, I’m your brother. Color me curious. Plus, not everyone can say their brother can build a snowman out of his ass.”
“I have never once built a snowman out of my ass.”
“Pipe dream.” Reeve winks. “Seriously, show me.”
I sigh, peel off my shirt, and turn. The cold air bites against my skin as I wait.
Silence.
When I glance back at him, his face has gone pale, eyes locked on the runes carved into me like brands. “Interesting mix of runes, Aric. Very interesting mix.”
He leans back, studying me as if weighing a choice.
“Hope you know what you’re doing with Rey.” His voice dips, serious now. “She may seem nice, but the Stjernes killed our parents without hesitation. Have you ever asked yourself why? What they knew that got them slaughtered? We all know it wasn’t an accident.”
The words land heavy, sharper than I would have expected.
“This isn’t child’s play, Aric. Odin Stjerne is powerful. Never forget what he controls in this…” He hesitates, just for a second. “City.”
I frown. City? Reeve covers it with a smile, but the slip prickles down my spine, his hesitation and sudden amusement making me pause.
“We’re safe here,” Reeve continues. “Endir’s gates protect us. Sigurd sees to that. But be careful with Pandora’s box, brother.” His eyes focus on my back again. “You can’t shut it once you open it. And when you do…” His grin twists, almost eager. “How else do worlds end? Chaos.”
The word lingers between us, bitter like he released a curse into the air.
I turn away, tugging my shirt back over my head. I need the second of reprieve so I don’t need to look him in the eye. That word reverberates around in my skull. Chaos…chaos…chaos…
And I realize that I’m not sure if Reeve is really protecting me—or just waiting to see me burn.