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)
We’re both quiet for a while. Lost to our thoughts and grief.
“I mean, at the very least, I bet your stepmother showed you some sort of affection,” he finally says. It feels like an opening, like a fleeting moment I can use to connect with him. Gods know I need one.
I glance sharply at Aric. “Not so much hugs,” I admit. “But she always had stories for me—some might argue that’s better than physical affection because they lasted longer. Tales of Jötunheim, stories steeped in war and betrayal, unspeakable loss and timeless love.”
My chest tightens. Laufey doesn’t deserve Odin’s wrath.
Aric studies me, his expression unreadable. “So, stories?”
“Yeah,” I say with a shaky laugh, brushing at my damp cheeks. “I always had a favorite.”
His lips twitch into a scowl. “Naturally, it’s about betrayal. Murder. Evil.”
“Of course.” I shoot him a pointed look. “No. It’s about true love. ‘The Nightfrost Ring.’”
His head jerks up, brown eyes locked in on me.
I continue before he can interrupt. “How Thor fell so madly in love with the Giant Alvaldi that to prove his devotion, he had the dwarves—the master smiths of Svartálfheim—forge a tether to Mjölnir. A ring that tempered his power. He wanted an equal by his side, someone not from Asgard, someone his father didn’t choose for him. He wanted true love.”
Aric exhales like I just punched him in the ribs. “You finished?”
I frown. “Whatever. You’re the one who asked.”
He drags a hand over his face and mutters under his breath, “What did I do to deserve this?” Then louder, with a bitter edge: “That’s complete bullshit, and you know it, right? I mean, the story of Nightfrost is legendary, sure, but Thor betrayed her. That’s the part they sugarcoat. The ring’s been lost ever since. Some say Alvaldi’s heartbreak was so deep, she cursed the Gods and hid it. Others say she died still holding it in the woods of Jötunheim, whispering for Thor to rescue her. Who knows?” His eyes go dark as frost gathers along his knuckles. “End of the day, it’s still betrayal. Tale as old as time. You trust someone, and they slap you in the face.”
“Wow. Okay,” I say, genuinely taken aback. I’ve always truly loved that story, always considered it as pure as pure could be.
His voice softens. “If you love that story…then you know it’s for the best.”
I glance up to find his mouth only inches from mine. “What’s for the best?”
“Staying away from me, from my family, before you end up just like that woman in the story. Dead.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Aric
The drive back is uneventful, the silence between us tense as hell. My death threat could have been delivered better, sure, and I think she could tell I was losing patience with all the questions when I cranked up the music to tune her out. But how was I supposed to tell her I was in the middle of a breakdown?
I need space, and Rey sees everything.
From the car, I watch her walk back to the dorm, and every feeling I shouldn’t have knots in my chest anyway. One minute, I’m pissed. The next minute, I’m panicking that she saw too much—like the silver flecks in my blood that rise like mercury. Or the way that being near her flips a switch I can’t control. Rage or kiss, kill or keep—every instinct at war, and I’m losing ground fast. I slam my hands against the steering wheel and drive toward the lake, then park and get out of the car, leaning against it.
I take a deep breath. I need to find the silence or some other shit, because I sure as hell am not journaling about this right now.
I look up to the sky as I feel power surge to my fingertips. I stare down at my hands and focus on bringing the cold to the surface. Instantly, my fingertips are covered in frost. I wave my hand over the ground, more frost following in intricate little patterns. I wait for the calm when the sound of thunder rumbles in the distance. Like static electricity has charged the air, I can feel the weather’s vibrations on my skin.
No, the vibration comes from me, driving the storm.
I flick my right hand toward the sky, then pull it down as a flash of lightning hits a tree right in front of me. I stumble back, and then the calm comes—not before the storm but during.
I let the power rise and surge and break free.
Maybe by embracing whatever power I have inside, I’ll be able to end this once and for all. And bring Odin’s head to Sigurd on a silver fucking platter.
I take my time coming back from the lake and approaching the admin building. Sigurd has an office at the very top with a wraparound balcony he often paces during the day—more often at night. He says he watches the stars, but he’s never looking up. Sigurd is always looking across—at the archway and the numerous runes scattered around campus.