Chapter 35
I’m desperate for Nordin’s confidence to seep into me, to soak through my chest and still the frantic thrum of my nerves. But I remain unsettled the next day. And the day after that.
The truth is, being near him only sharpens my unease, so I pull away, pinning my agitation on my broken bone and how utterly useless and frustrated it makes me feel. If my moodiness begins to irritate him, he doesn’t let on.
Not when he stops by to suggest a stroll or a game of Rafbo.
Not when he delivers more food than I can stomach twice daily.
Not when he curls up on the cot behind me, tucking his body around mine.
Not when his lips claim mine in the dark, behind closed doors.
I begin to believe he’s let go of his wild idea when he stops by to tell me he’ll be traveling into the Wilds with his father. I don’t ask him what they plan on doing. I don’t need to. I already know. In the same way that he knows not to explain.
I only learn that he’s returned three days later, on my way back from Klaudia’s with a fresh bar of lye soap. He stands bare-chested in the arena, teaching younglings the correct way to make fists and the best places to hit.
I slow under the boughs of the tree I once fell from, drinking in his form and hunting it for bruising before scrutinizing the white locks tied back in a braided tail for burnt patches.
From what I can see, he’s unharmed.
For now…
“It’s a shame that man doesn’t have a true mate.”
My stomach drops at the sound of Nika’s voice. Here I thought she’d left the valley for good after Crescent Quest.
“He’s such a natural with children.”
As she watches his honed body move with agility and gentleness, jealousy replaces my disquiet.
“I suppose he might still find the one, right?” She glances my way, baiting me for a reaction.
“My mother couldn’t have children, yet she had me.”
“But you’re not her real child.”
“I am,” I snap. “In every way that counts, I’m her daughter and she’s my mother.”
Nika’s gaze scrolls over my face before dipping to my hands. Though leather conceals my scars, it feels like they’re on display. It also feels like Nika’s weighing the kind of mother Eira is by the marks I carry.
I suddenly wish the day hadn’t been as warm and that I’d needed a coat so that I could’ve buried my hands inside more material.
“Why did you stay?” I ask, as a boy half Nordin’s size tries to tip my wolf over. “Are you still hoping he’ll change his mind?”
“At the beginning, I thought that maybe I could, but then I understood…” She slants me a look that’s neither contemptuous nor friendly, only penetrating. “I saw.”
My heart misses a beat. What did you see? I want to ask, even though I know the answer.
She saw him and me.
She understood that my bond with Nordin runs deep.
“Unless you vanished, that man will never notice another female. And before you jump to any conclusions, I didn’t poison you.
” Her attention is back on the arena. “I was rather offended when your mother and uncle suggested I’d try to kill one of their own.
Despite what you might think, I don’t dislike you, Zaskja. ”
I don’t tell her that the sentiment isn’t mutual, since I dislike her very much. It’s petty, but I can’t help it. She’s a Jarl’s daughter, a shifter with unblemished hands, a woman that—for a moment in time—Nordin considered taking as his mate. She’s everything I wish I could be.
She toys with the opal dangling from the flattened leather cord she wears longer than mine. “If I did, I wouldn’t be wearing your creation.”
My mouth purses at her compliment.
After a beat, she adds, “The only person I’d gladly murder is Havrik.”
Shock jostles my lids.
She leans her hip against the short, stone wall that encloses the arena, giving me her full attention again. “You should be careful. He seems determined to take you as his wife. I realize Nordin would probably fight him to the death, but with Havrik, I’d be worried who’d emerge the victor.”
My next inhale doesn’t land in my lungs. It gets stuck somewhere in my throat. “After you rejected him, did he try to take you?”
“No. But I have magic.”
Unlike me.
“You might not want or need a friend, but in case you do, I’d be happy for a new one. Especially someone Saga holds so close to her heart.” She smiles at my dumbfounded expression. “Fenrir, you must really have thought I poisoned you…”
I finally recover. Well, partly. I’m going to need a Hel of a lot more time to recover fully.
“No. I never thought it was you.” Although I’m not sure yet how I feel about a new friend, I admit something to her that I’ve told no one. “Because I know who did it. Who wanted me dead.”
Saying it out loud makes it terrifyingly real. It also makes Mor’s urge to leave feel less impulsive and more like survival.
For a heartbeat, I consider telling her the truth, but I struck a deal with my uncle. Even though my end of the bargain wasn’t secrecy, I deem it an unspoken clause. I can’t afford to injure his pride and reputation.
He might not take it out on his son, but he’d take it out on me. Maybe pitch me at Taeric’s feet and instruct the Vampyr King to do with me as he pleased. Seeing as I’m a valkyrie, that would equate to either torture or death by dragon-fire.
I want to live with Nordin, not die with Taeric.
I return my gaze to Nordin, who’s teaching a little girl, years away from her first shift, how to position her feet.
“Huh. My father’s here with the Glacier and Fir Jarls.” Nika is squinting at Meadowpoint and the large wolves emerging from the valley tunnels. “I wonder if something happened.”
Something is about to happen, I think, right as Nordin dismisses the children and strides over to us.
He hops over the low wall, studying my expression before greeting Nika with polite caution.
“Do you know why the Alphas are meeting?” she asks.
Nordin glances southward, at the swatch of blue over the pass. “Yes. To discuss how best to conquer the Wilds.”
She sucks in air, eyes glinting like faceted emeralds. “It’s about time.”
“Right?” The confident smile that blazes across Nordin’s face causes my insides to churn with annoyance.
Did Nika have to jump on the war-against-the-vampyrs wagon quite so enthusiastically?
What if she was playing the disinterested card only for appearances’ sake?
“Nika, can you tell them I’ll be with them in a few minutes?” Nordin asks.
She nods, then backs away and shifts.
Once she’s gone, he asks, “Everything all right?”
You’re the one he chose. Doubt tramples what little buoyancy the reminder brings me. What if you aren’t the one he keeps choosing?
I fling the thought far. “Yes. Fine.”
The increasing dip of his eyebrows reveals that I don’t have him fooled. “You’ll tell me later?”
I bite the inside of my cheek so hard that I puncture the skin.
“Zas…” he murmurs, bowing his neck a little farther as though to block out the rest of the world. “What is it? What did she say?”
What you wanted to hear… “She wants to be friends.”
“That’s good. Isn’t it?”
“If I had an ex, and he approached you with an offer of friendship, would you welcome it with open arms?”
“She’s not my ex.”
“You were betrothed to her.”
A nerve feathers his jaw.
I back up before my jealousy makes a mess of my fledgling relationship. “You don’t want to keep the Jarls waiting, Nordin.”
He catches my elbow and tugs me back. “I don’t care about them. Or Nika. Only you.” And then he plants his lips on mine.
For the entire world to see.
“Nordin…” I breathe out before gaping around us. Though shifters don’t surround us, the children are still in the arena. “We’re—”
“I love you,” he says.
As I crane my neck to look up into his face, my heart races like a bunny in pursuit.
“You,” he repeats. “I never again want you to doubt this, Zas.”
My ribs tighten, squeezing out more frantic beats from the muscle beneath.
“I’ll find you after the meeting.” He kisses me again, bruisingly deep, and then he walks away, leaving me to contend with my shock and that of our witnesses.