Chapter Fifty-Two
Aric
Rey glances back at the edge of my ice, then to me and slowly starts to inch away. I don’t blame her. I would, too. I hold up my hands. “Give me a minute.”
“I’ll give you as many minutes as you want,” she rasps. “I’ll just be over here.”
Her mouth is still swollen, and I can see where I scraped her neck. What the hell is happening to us? To me? “I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry, I didn’t think your blood would make me react like that.”
I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut.
“We can blame the runes.” She lets out a rough exhale. “Right?”
I try to gather my thoughts, but all I have swimming around my brain is the need to kiss her again, to really taste her.
My body hums with the need to possess her.
Sure, they used to say the Giants devoured their prey in ancient times, but those were just myths, legends to scare people away.
I need a minute. A moment to think clearly. I don’t want to be the monster.
My hands are shaking, my head pulsing right along with the runes. I need a distraction. I glance up. She’s moved on to fixing her hair like it’s offensive that any inch of it would be out of place.
I almost laugh. “You used to not care.”
Her head jerks up. “What?”
I grit my teeth. Focus. Get through this conversation. You aren’t losing control—yet.
“The night of…” I try to power through. “The night of the broken engagement. Your hair was a mess, but you seemed so carefree, and I liked it.” I shrug. “I liked you. Kind of.”
Her eyes narrow. “Um, thank you? I think? Though apparently you didn’t like me enough to say yes.”
“I wouldn’t have wished a betrothal to appease Odin on my worst enemy.”
“Case in point?” She chuckles. “Okay, my turn.” She takes a small step toward me. “I hated you then. You were beautiful—”
“Were?” I prod, for my own ego and also to see her smile again.
“Are you going to let me talk, Giant?”
I like this side of her. “Go ahead.”
“Anyway.” She crosses her arms. “I don’t get embarrassed easily. I swear Odin just beat it out of my brain, but I was that day. Not one of my finer moments.”
“Because of your hair?” I’m struggling to understand.
Her eyes are unwavering. She may as well be staring right through me.
“Because you were this tall, beautiful, powerful person, and I was embarrassed that my father was offering me to you like a sacrifice—a sacrifice that, by all appearances, wasn’t even worthy.
I don’t blame you for taking one look and walking away. ”
My entire world shifts in that moment.
Does she really see herself that way? “Rey, there was nothing to be embarrassed about. You were perfect. I didn’t want to keep you because you weren’t mine to take in the first place. And you sure as hell weren’t Odin’s property to bargain with.”
She takes a step toward me, then seems to think twice and spins away. I’m left staring at her back and hearing her make soft sounds as she wipes her eyes.
Is she crying?
“For the record, you’re still beautiful. Even if I don’t like you.”
“You’re still tall.”
“Wow.” I take a soothing breath. “Careful with the compliments. It’s never good to overdo it.”
“Noted.”
I clear my throat and glance away. “Hey, since we have a very temporary ceasefire until we find Mjolnir, and we’re actually talking without arguing, can I ask a question?”
She smiles at that and makes herself comfortable on the ground. “Wow, colder than I thought. And sure.”
I hesitate and realize the out-of-control feeling is gone.
I slowly walk up to her, then sit on the ground and pull her into my lap.
She shivers against my chest. “Heroic.”
“You were cold.”
“Sure, that’s why you picked me up.”
“It’s the truth. But okay.” I lift her off my lap, but she slings her arms around my neck to stay in place.
The rush of relief has me expelling a breath.
“Okay, hit me with your question. You deserve at least one answer after your heroism.” It’s physically painful having her in my lap like this, but it’s a good kind of pain. She’s so warm, smells so good. I ache to press my lips to hers again.
Something shifted between us back there. I don’t want to think too much about it. I just want to sink into the feeling.
I clear my throat. “Do you believe in magic? Myths? I mean, beyond what we already know about us and where we come from.”
She goes completely still above me. “What do you mean? Like, magic-wand-style magic? Myths like the Roman gods or Hercules?”
“Sure. All of it.”
The only sound that fills the air is our breathing and the slow, steady melt of the ice around us as it sloughs off into the lake. It’s comforting.
Rey turns in my arms so she can look up at me. Pieces of dark hair are caked to her face. Her lips are still swollen from my mouth, her eyelashes collecting my frost. I feel possessive of it, jealous of myself when I stare down at her.
“Yes,” she says.
“That’s it?” I ask. “Just a yes?”
She lifts her hand and very slowly cups my face. It’s warm. It feels so good, I close my eyes for a moment. “I think there’s a lot of truth based in stories about Gods and monsters.”
“Gods and monsters,” I repeat, pressing my hand against hers to keep it on my cheek.
I can’t fight the feeling that I’m running out of time.
As soon as we have the location of Mjolnir, we’ll go our separate ways, burying whatever connection we’re sharing now.
We’ll be enemies again, on the opposite sides of a war we didn’t start.
“Gods, I can believe in. Not all Gods are bad. And I want to believe in something powerful sent to save the world. But what if you’re the monster? What then?”
Her eyes lock on mine. “If the monster knows it’s a monster, then it’s capable of being something else, don’t you think?”
“What if it has a reason for wanting to burn the world? What if it’s necessary? What then?”
Her lower lip trembles. “Then I guess you already have your answer. Maybe we’re all just monsters pretending to be heroes, Aric.
Maybe the real heroes are the monsters. One thing I do know is that we write our own history.
Don’t ever let something that feels predetermined make you veer from what you think your path should be. ”
I reach out and gently pull a few strands of hair away from her face. They’re so soft. I drop my hand. “I think that’s easier said than done, considering both of our families. The idea of having a choice is a nice fantasy, though, isn’t it?”
Tears fill her eyes. “It really is.”
I shift my body. “We should get back to the dorms.”
“Wait.” Rey licks her lips. “I’m not the best at math, but I’m thinking we have at least one minute left of this ceasefire before we have to go back to reality. One minute with both swords on the table? One more minute of pretending?”
“One.” I nod. “Sure.”
“Okay.” She presses both her hands against my cheeks and pulls my face down, meeting my mouth again with hers.
Gods, she shouldn’t be trusting me again, not after what happened.
The fact that she is undoes me in a primal way.
It’s everything.
I moan into her mouth, devouring every part of her. She tastes like home. A home I’ve never really known but want to. I slide my tongue into her mouth, my hands tangling in her hair. I stop thinking. I stop hoping. I just exist for her taste, for her touch.
Rey slides her arms around my neck and fully pulls herself into my lap. I angle my head a different way and deepen the kiss.
I hate time.
I don’t want this to end.
I want more. I need more.
Abruptly, she pulls away.
And just like that, her shield is back in place.
It’s in the angle of her jaw, the stillness in her eyes, the way her shoulders square like she’s preparing to land a hit.
So I do the only thing I can. I promptly peel my anger back over my own face, the comfortable, familiar rage that’s been with me so long, it makes moments like the last ones seem like they were never real in the first place.
I let it flame until I no longer want to keep her close.
It’s the only way we’re going to get through this unscathed.
So easy to believe, the lies I tell myself.
“Minute’s over,” she whispers.
“Good.”
Rey slowly scoots off me. I get to my feet and walk a few steps away.
I feel her step up next to me.
I wave my hand in front of the ice walls, and they melt instantly.
“Fourth rune tonight,” I whisper. “What is it? I’ll find it and text you.”
“Othala.”
I don’t cringe, but a sickness curls in my gut right along with a bit of satisfaction. “The rune of bloodline. Inheritance.” I would laugh if I didn’t want to scream into the void. “The fourth rune is one of the most powerful. Sigurd’s afraid to even speak it out loud.”
Her eyes narrow. “How do you know that?”
“Because it’s in his home office.” I rub at my neck, heat from the runes building up my back like they’re ready for more. “And out of all the stories I grew up memorizing, it’s the only one my dad insisted I learn word for word. I think it’s paranoia that Sigurd keeps it…”
“Keeps what?”
“The statue that bears the mark.” I can’t keep the bitterness out of my laugh. “Audhumla. The very cow that allegedly nourished Ymir to life and helped create the Gods. And trust me—it’s the most awkward-looking statue in the world.”
Her mouth parts like she’s about to argue, but then she actually breathes out a sigh of relief.
“It’s also at our house,” I add, “which means we get to put off rune-hunting for a few more days. Sigurd keeps it locked up tight, but he won’t be at the end-of-orientation house party. We’ll see it then.”
Her shoulders sag like maybe she’s relieved. I feel the same way.
I’ve bought us the perfect excuse to stall.
What’s a few more days?
A few more days of lying.
A few more days of believing it’s all going to be okay.
A few more days to pretend.