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)
“You know who you are, Aric.”
“But what if I forget who I am? Forget about us.”
That cracks something open inside me. He isn’t afraid of the power burning through him. He isn’t afraid of losing himself to it. He’s afraid of losing us.
I take his hand. “You’ll remember. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Then it’ll be okay.” He wraps his arms around me. It takes a minute, but his humor returns. “You know, if I was a romantic, I’d say this is some real Romeo and Juliet kind of shit, warring families, bloodshed, revenge.”
I laugh against his chest, the sound muffled by the steady beat of his heart. “Let’s not comp to Shakespeare. Most of his stories didn’t end so well.”
His lips brush my forehead, the featherlight kiss so soft it feels like a promise, when days ago I would have seen it as a threat.
I tilt my head up, nerves tangling with want, with a need to explore this further before everything goes to hell.
Aric’s arms wind tighter around me until our breaths are mingling, until the space between us disappears into nothing. His mouth descends slowly, like he’s giving me a chance to run. He presses the faintest kiss to my lips. It’s nothing but a tease of everything I want and more.
He exhales a cool breath across my lower lip. I feel the frost first, the chill seeping into me—then the heat of his tongue follows, melting me all over again. Making me want to lose control.
I should step away and tell him about his brother. He deserves to know.
But he’s clearly in a vulnerable place already, and I think he needs me right now. To feel safe and loved and not like everything he thought he knew has been pulled out from under him. Again.
A tremor rolls through me. I know he can probably see it, feel it. The talking can wait. Everything else can wait. Right now, I need to show him just how loved he is.
Before our time together runs out.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Rey
When I get back from the dining hall later, Aric is gone. But he tucked a handwritten note underneath my door.
Sigurd has me helping set up for the Hunt. Be back as soon as I can.
I shoot him a quick text.
Me: Hope it’s going well
Giant Asshole: I’m forced to work alongside a clown who keeps juggling hammers. My brother’s an idiot.
My stomach clenches.
Me: That he is. See you soon?
I debate saying more. It doesn’t seem fair to deliver the kind of news I need to via text.
Giant Asshole: Yeah, got your costume, I’ll bring it over later.
Me: Cool
I want to type I love you. I don’t. Instead I just stare at my terrible “Cool” response and let out a groan.
I glance at the clock beside my bed. Almost two p.m. The Hunt doesn’t begin until sundown, but I feel like I’m running out of time. This is it.
Tonight…it ends.
There’s a sharp knock at my door, and I open it to find Rowen there. His hair’s a mess, and his ever-present suit jacket is gone. He still wears a dress shirt, but a few buttons are open at the top and his sleeves are rolled up.
“Hey,” he starts, lingering in the hallway.
“You obviously came here for a reason, Rowen. You might as well come in.”
His face says it all—I’m angry, I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say.
Yeah. Same.
Though I’m not really angry with him. He’s just another victim in this war. Same as me. Another pawn in Odin’s game.
Rowen comes in and closes my door. He’s carrying a small red gift bag.
“Where’s Eira?” I ask.
“Getting ready for the Hunt. Something about smoky makeup and a proper blowout. She’s been at it for hours.” He shrugs. “At least she ignores me enough that I can do what I prefer doing when I’m on campus.”
“What’s that?”
His eyes flicker to mine. “Watch you. Protect you. Keep my only friend safe.” His smile’s warm. “Take your pick.”
I walk toward him, and he envelops me in a hug that I can tell we both sorely need.
“I’ll always be here for you,” he whispers. “You can trust me.”
I want to believe that.
I frown and stare down at his arm. The pain there radiates off his skin and into mine. The anger is there, too, only dimmer now, the rage seemingly replaced by a new, crushing emotion: regret.
He shifts in my hold, and it’s almost like the scars falter and shimmer. I do a double take. For the first time since I’ve known him, it almost looks like two runes intertwined. How have I never noticed it before? Or is it because he’s never let me look this close?
“Your scars,” I murmur, and he goes still. “They almost look like a combination of Laguz and Berkano, the ones you have on your door back home.” I smile. “I guess I never noticed before?”