Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
I freeze, heat rushing to my face.
Reeve clears his throat from behind us. “Um…what exactly did you walk in on?”
Aric ignores him. Ignores me, too, facing forward like nothing happened. I stare down at my phone, force myself to breathe, and try not to let his icy composure cut deeper than it already does.
The rest of class drones on in meaningless buzz. By the time I gather my things, both Aric and Reeve are already out the door.
Dr. Tyrson’s deep in conversation with Sigurd.
Where the hell did he come from? And just how long has he been standing there?
He leans against the frame, patient, watchful, ancient.
I don’t like him any more than he likes me. But I know exactly who he is. What he is. The whispers about Sigurd are as dark as the ones about my father. Older. Colder. Not royalty, but the closest thing to it. My father once said it’s been centuries since his kind were forced to bow.
Every culture has an origin story. Every myth, a beginning.
And I’m standing in front of it.
When Dr. Tyrson looks down at his phone, then takes a call and walks away from us, I don’t think. I just move. I press two fingers to my lips, extend my thumb to my throat. The old gesture. Once, it meant loyalty—that you would silence your own mouth and slit your own throat before betraying the Gods.
Now it’s a mockery.
Sigurd’s eyes narrow at me, glinting sharp, unreadable, as I leave the room.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Aric
Food tastes dull in my mouth. It’s been exactly two hours since my class with Rey, and I still feel her in the air—what’s worse is that the minute she was gone, I expected to calm down, but instead I almost feel more on edge.
A headache pounds between my temples as I shove the plate of food away and reach for my can of Coke.
Reeve drops down next to me. “You’re not thinking of actually trying to tame it, are you?”
“Who?”
“Satan.”
“Never.” I scowl. “It’s bad enough I have to be her partner.”
Ziva chooses that moment to pop down at the same table and spread her two trays around. How many fries can a person grab? “Eriksons, I’d say it’s a pleasure, but I’m only here because every other seat was taken and people are petrified of you two.”
Another tray clatters onto the table. Eira.
She slides her food a few inches away from her body, her blond hair braided back in a crown that gleams under the fluorescent lights. Where most of the students look like they just tumbled out of bed, she’s got on glittery eyeshadow and bright red lipstick. She smiles widely at Reeve.
“Most people,” Ziva mutters between bites of fries, like she’s commenting on a bad joke.
Rowen hovers behind Eira, scanning the room with those sharp eyes of his. Always watching, never missing a thing. Why is she so important again? Rumors say she’s got an important father, maybe a board member, maybe worse.
Odin flexing, that’s all it ever is.
It must sting for Rey, though. To see Odin protect someone else’s blood while tossing her to his enemies.
And yet, Rey? She can hold her own.
“Rowen.” Eira pats the empty chair beside her. “Sit down. You’re making Aric uncomfortable.”
I’m not uncomfortable. What I am is curious.
“So you work for Odin?” I ask, leaning back. “What, like a rent-a-bodyguard gig?”
Rowen doesn’t even flinch. “My family’s been in his service for years. It’s only natural.”
“Uh-huh.” I shrug. “So you never went to college?”
That earns me the barest flicker of amusement. “Honestly, with the jobs I’ve had and the people I’ve been hired to protect, it feels like I’ve already lived a million lives. The last thing I want is to rot in Organic Chemistry.”
Eira finally looks up from her phone. “So I heard you guys are hosting a party this weekend?”
Reeve lifts a hand. “Invite-only. House isn’t big enough for everyone.”
She gives him a slow once-over. “So what do I need to do to get in?”
His nose wrinkles. “Um, not what you’re thinking.”
Ziva snorts. “To be fair, it is you, so why wouldn’t she think that?”
The tension between them is suffocating, bitter and sharp even though they’re laughing it off. I nearly scoot my chair back from the burning resentment for each other they drag in with them.
“I forgot you were even sitting here,” Reeve fires back.
Ziva’s smile cuts. “I’m used to it. You forgetting your phone, your keys, the fact that you had a girlfriend.”
I groan into my hands. “Can you two not bring your drama here?”
“Whatever.” Reeve stands just as my phone buzzes. “You can all come, just don’t ruin the vibe.”
I glance down. Unknown number.
Unknown: Done with my classes. Want to get our assignment over with or did you have another day in mind
Rey. Of course it’s Rey.
And of course, she chooses that exact moment to walk into the dining hall.