25. Davyn
Twenty-Five
Davyn
Tree branches and underbrush tore at my clothing, but it didn’t bother me. The sun through the branches was mild on my skin and the only sounds were nature—birds, bugs, and the distant rush of a river.
For decades—centuries if I were being honest with myself—it had been easier to exist alone than to pay attention to the bit of me that missed being part of a pack. Traveling for Azzie for the last three and a half years was enough to remind me that despite bears being solitary creatures, Berserkers were used to being in a tribe.
Existing in the city, even a small one, wasn’t the same as being part of a close-knit group who looked out for each other. Despite being surrounded by people, none of them were allies. Now, with their scents and the constant hum of electricity gone, I could sink into the solitude of the forest.
While I hadn’t decided what I thought of Finn, and I was wary of how quickly Zeke had earned Azzie’s trust, living next to the pair, spending the time with them, made all of us feel like a group.
We weren’t. It would be only Azzie and me again soon enough, and the knowledge sent the need through me to reconnect with old friends. To see if I could reestablish some of the bonds that I missed. Especially when Finn insisted on a birthday party with friends, which summoned the reminder that Azzie didn’t have many more close connections than I did. She shouldn’t be so isolated.
I stepped into a clearing, leaving oaks and aspens behind me. According to the information I’d been able to gather, through Finn’s contacts and through feelers that Enid put out on my behalf, this was where I could find Tyr—one of the few gods I not only liked but still respected.
I hadn’t talked to him in ages, though. As Zeke would put it, a big gruff loner didn’t need friends.
With the temperate air hugging me and foul smells of the city cleared from my senses, I paused and dragged in a deep breath. The gesture would not only help me enjoy my immediate surroundings, but I hoped it would give me a direction to go, to find Tyr.
A powerful scent hit me full force—sweat and ancient blood—at the same time an ax head dug into the middle of my back.
“It’s been a long time, Berserker.”
Tyr .
I didn’t fight my smile. “Too long.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not long enough.” His tone didn’t give anything away about his mood or state of mind.
I was unconcerned. This was a better greeting than pretending all was well. For him, all hadn’t been well since he lost?—
“Why are you here?” Tyr asked.
“To see you. To catch up.”
He huffed a laugh. “You simply thought that you would drop in after a few hundred years of no contact and say I missed you, let us celebrate our brotherhood .”
“I would’ve called, but no one I talked to could find a phone number for you.” It seemed some of Azzie’s gift for sarcasm was rubbing off on me.
“I do not have a phone.”
“That’s an enviable position to have.” I turned slowly to face him.
Tyr’s grunt was noncommittal. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the shape of a man as large as I was. The flash of movement, the release of pressure against my spine, was all the hint I needed to take several rapid steps back.
Sunlight flashed on steel as Tyr swung the ax through the spot where I’d just stood.
It seemed the months of practice with Azzie had served me as well. I met his gaze, searching for an indication of the nature of his attack. One corner of his mouth pulled up, and a hint of a smile shone in blue eyes.
I grinned and fell into a defensive posture. “Are you certain that you want to do this?”
“I live with many doubts and regrets.” Tyr sheathed the ax and took up his own fighting stance. “This will not be one of them.”
A fight in which I could go all out. This would be excellent. I made a tentative lunge, throwing a punch, to see how Tyr would react.
He blocked with no effort, and raised an eyebrow. “Have you gotten soft, Bear?” He jabbed at my gut.
I absorbed the hit in favor of moving within his reach, to twist and bring my shoulder into his side to knock him back.
Tyr grunted, though the sound was one of surprise rather than pain. He gripped me under the shoulders, dragging with him as he stumbled, and throwing us both off balance. A low chuckle rumbled through the ground; a sensation I felt more than heard, and the sound of a pleased god. Tyr was a skilled opponent regardless, but the fact he did all of this despite missing a hand made him all the more impressive.
He recovered as I did, and we pulled apart to circle each other.
The sparring, knowing I could go all-out, felt good. However, combined with Tyr’s haunted look and thoughts of Azzie, it dragged up a past I worked to keep buried.
“There are rumors you travel with a woman.” Tyr lunged again.
I was ready, and met the charge as a wall, ready to take the impact in order to retaliate. “You know better than to believe rumors, especially from unknown sources. Who told you such a thing?”
He hadn’t heard it from Aya, of that I was certain. Her brother, Frey’s, mate, Fen, had betrayed Tyr, others, long ago, and Freyr and Freya chose to stand by Fenrir rather than face the truth.
Tyr changed tactics before he hit me, stepping to the side to hit me from a new angle. A favorite move of Azzie’s, and I was ready. I countered his blow with one of my own, and the fight was on.
“She told me.” Tyr’s words sank into the rhythm of the fight. “The woman. Azzie.”
I faltered at her name, and was punished for my misstep with a fist to the kidney. “How?—?”
“She’s a fighter who does what she does because she believes the world should be fair.” Tyr lingered after the hit. “You tell me, when she mutters please help me , where do you think it goes?”
Tyr heard her prayers? “How?” I took advantage of his pause to drop and sweep a kick at his feet.
He tried to jump, but waited too long, and my attack sent him stumbling as well. “That’s how prayers work.”
I glowered at his condescension. Of course, when one muttered a plea into the air, if they didn’t direct it at a god, it tended to reach the ears of the deity whose values that individual embodied.
Gods drew their power from faith. From prayers. With a lack of people praying to specific entities these days, gods had found new ways to keep access to that faith. There were many gods of sex, and of war, and those who stayed powerful specialized. Tyr represented war and justice. Making things right for the repressed.
“She’s a potential.” In my mind Tyr’s revelation made her a god praying to a god.
Tyr shrugged. “She’s not a god yet.”
No, she wasn’t, and I was grateful for that.
Because she wasn’t ready.
I charged Tyr and he leaned in, steadying himself and hunching his shoulders. I dodged around him, toward the tree to his back left. I landed one step and then another, taking me up half a meter and coming down with an elbow aimed at his back.
As I struck my mark, Tyr lunged to the side with a grunt. He rolled upright, letting out a laugh that radiated from his chest. “You’re learning dangerous things from that woman of yours.”
“She’s not my?—”
“— woman .” I lost my voice as my past slammed into me, carried on my voice saying the same thing. Though I was still in the clearing with Tyr, my mind was carried back to a time before Odin made me Berserker. To a similar fight with the same god.
To an identical taunt about a quite different woman.
Gudrun was my sister. A maiden with so much potential, and determined to become a Berserker like so many of us who trained. Odin didn’t grant that gift to women, though. Any female Berserkers were born naturally, much later.
Gudrun insisted she would be the first. She would convince Odin she was worthy. I learned from her. Worshipped her. Would have done anything for her.
Including overlooking the fact that she stayed mortal when I didn’t. I told myself she was strong. She knew all the things we did, and she was a better warrior than half of us. Which meant when she fought alongside us, I never questioned it. She joined us in a battle she never could have survived without enhanced strength and healing.
Despite not having thought of her in ages, her death flooded my mind now, vivid and horrifying.
One of the Valkyries, Kirby, assured me Gudrun was in Valhalla. Kirby’s accompanying her was one of the rare times she quietly defied Odin.
“Are we fighting?” Tyr’s taunt brushed the edge of my thoughts.
Gudrun was the other reason I held back with Azzie. I wouldn’t get so caught up in another person that I overlooked?—
“ Davyn .” Tyr’s shoulder to my gut yanked me into the present.
The inconvenience of pain kept me grounded, and I buried the memory once again. I gave Tyr a toothy grin. “We are fighting, yes.”
I threw myself into the fight full force, and banished all thoughts of Gudrun. Of Azzie and how tempting and strong and skilled she was. Of how glorious she was when she lost herself in battle, or anything. Of how infatuated she was with?—
Tyr tackled me, and we rolled to the ground. “Be careful with prophecies and the women they attach themselves to.” His light tone vanished.
“I am.” I fought back, grappling and drawing strength from within to try to gain the upper hand.
Tyr pinned me and threw a punch at my throat.
I blocked and rolled to the side, but he caught me in the kidney with his knee. The hits came harder and faster from both of us, and I let go of every restraint except the one that kept me from becoming a bear.
It felt good to lose myself, and each of us healed instantly from any wounds. However, as the fight wore on, the bruises hurt more, and the twisted limbs ached longer. I lost track of how long we fought, before we both rolled to the side and agreed at the same time to yield.
Tyr wore a smile, and I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Incredible fight.”
“Thank you. It’s been too long since I could do that,” he said.
Same.
Another reason I missed being part of a pack. A group that not only protected, but appreciated a good fight. With no restraints.
“What is that?” Tyr nodded at a shimmer in the sunlight that dappled through the trees.
I glanced at it, then looked again, and patted my pockets. Fuck. I should’ve secured that better. Pushing to my feet, I wandered the short distance to retrieve the necklace that had fallen out of my pocket. “A birthday gift.”
“For her?” Tyr joined me.
I nodded, and picked pieces of dried leaves out of the fittings. Fortunately, it was a sturdy piece, meant to be both beautiful and survive Azzie wearing it at all times. It hadn’t taken any damage I couldn’t polish away with my T-shirt.
“Would you like me to bless it? A protection of sorts?” Tyr asked.
A god’s blessing wasn’t like an enchant. It would only serve followers.
Which it seemed Azzie was. I held the jewelry out, nestled in the palm of my hand. “Please.”
I’d take any extra safety for her that I could find.