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 wedge a shoe in my door so she doesn’t even have to knock. I keep the covers open like a coward, waiting for something I’ll never admit I want. I lie there in giddy anticipation like I’m a tween again, listening for the soft pad of her steps down the hall.
And she always comes.
In the morning, we play it off. Pretend she wasn’t asleep in the arms of her enemy. Pretend it’s just some strange quirk of hers that I tolerate. Pretend so fucking well, it almost feels like our new normal.
Pretend this is okay.
Pretend we aren’t losing ourselves to each other.
Maybe pretending is just like hoping—no matter how many times you do it, the end is still the same. Disappointment when reality kicks in.
But for now? The high is worth the fall.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Aric
“So the party’s tonight,” Rey says, staring at me in the reflection of the mirror as we brush our teeth.
Translation, we get the fourth rune tonight.
She shoves me to the side and then splashes some water on her face. It’s so fucking normal, so domestic, I can’t stop myself from grinning.
“Yeah, I was invited to my own house,” I confirm. “Apparently I’m back in Reeve’s good graces, since I no longer pester you during the day.”
No. But we have the nights.
And as long as I hold her all night, I’m calm. I get some sleep. I don’t even feel pain. I feel…normal.
It’s addicting.
I wonder if it affects her in the same way, like we’ve both been strung so tight for so long that we’re finally doing our bodies the great service of calming the hell down.
Not that I’m always calm when she climbs in.
She tugs my hair.
Her lips have met my skin more than a dozen times.
I’ve touched her ass accidentally. Twice.
She’s kneed me in the junk—swear that one was on purpose.
The point is, whatever truce we have is in my bed. But during the day, I see the tension in her. I feel Rowen’s anger when they talk, checking up on her constantly. I sense Reeve’s anxiety as he watches us, wondering if I’ve done what has to be done yet.
Rey stares at our reflections in the mirror. I follow her gaze and look down. The water she splashed on her face fell onto my hand and turned to ice.
My nerves build as the ice gets thicker across the back of my hand.
“It seems,” she whispers, “it’s happening all the time now.”
“I don’t even think about it anymore around you. It’s kind of nice, not having to hide it—”
“Remember the end game.” She’s suddenly colder than my hands. Like she’s made the decision for the two of us and is already closing herself off again. It feels like I just got slapped. Her once warm eyes are distant.
I stare her down in the mirror. She doesn’t get to decide shit for me. “Right.” My eyes flash with warning. “The end game where I don’t kill you.”
She punches me in the shoulder. “The end game where I don’t kill you. Let’s just get this over with, yeah?”
Her words slice through the room, shattering the ice I just built, causing my body to boil with anger. “Yeah, good call. It’s too weird when we don’t hate each other, plus Reeve’s been on my ass just like Rowen’s on yours.”
She looks away. “Yeah, it seems everyone on Team Odin is…stressed.”
“Team Odin?” I repeat. “I thought you were Team Middle Ground where you try not to kill or be killed.”
I mean, did I expect her to be Team Aric? Absolutely not. So I don’t know why I’m suddenly wishing for her to confess it. I need to stop thinking about her as anything but the person I might need to extinguish in order to survive. Maybe this conversation is the reminder I needed.
We aren’t friends.
There will never be a world where we coexist without hatred and old wounds dripping on each side.
There will never be peace.
She pulls away from me, physically, emotionally. “See you at the party. Try to stay calm. It’s almost over.”
“Right.” Almost over.
I watch her leave and tell myself it’s for the best. I mean, what was I even thinking? Had I really lost my mind there for a minute and hoped? Reeve was right.
The Gods are evil.
Maybe she isn’t.
But her family is—and they deserve whatever they get.
I try not to let it bother me while I get ready and make my way to the elevator. Just as I look up and the doors are closing, I see it.
It has a different meaning now.
The stupid comic book picture of Odin fighting off Ymir at the end of the hall.
Odin. Loki. Thor. All standing by his side like heroes.
And an entire realm, Jötunheim, set on fire around them.
They destroy worlds.
How silly to think I had any place in hers.