Page 94 of Fallen Gods

Ever since the third rune appeared on Aric’s back, my chest has been hurting. It’s deeper than a physical pain, though, more like I’m missing something that even I don’t know I ever had. Maybe as his runes awaken, so does my blood?

It’s left me with that ever-present ache, combined with a soul-deep sense of loneliness as I sit in my dorm room alone.

I’ve always been used to being alone, craved it most of the time when living in that house with a monster. But right now, I just want to be held. Which is ridiculous, because when was the last time anyone held me? Ever? I mean, Rowen will hug me sometimes, but this is different.

I’m talking about the soul-crushing sort of holding where you know the person has been searching their entire life for you. That even one second in their arms would be better than never having them at all.

I read a lot about love.

I haven’t ever experienced it. Not romantically, at least. One-night stands, either to scratch an itch or to piss off my father, don’t count, and both times were so disappointing I cried myself to sleep, wondering if I’d ever find someone who made me feel like I belonged.

Always the outsider.

Always the weapon.

Always the dutiful daughter.

Sleep. I need sleep, and even without a life-or-death quest on my hands, I have a packed day of classes tomorrow and a report on Ice Caves to write.

With Aric.

Yes, thinking of papers and classes and friends and relationships is ridiculous. It’s all going to be over soon—more than likely, it’s going to be literallyover. But it’s not really about doing the coursework. It’s about him, getting close to him. And if I’m enjoying it—if I like pretending these friendships can exist beyond this week—well, sue me.

Would spending a few more days together before a possible tragic ending really be the worst thing?

My father hasn’t texted me since this afternoon, so maybe he’s having a good day. I can only pray Laufey is keeping his tantrums, his nightmares at bay. Her only power as a Giant is that of healing, both mentally and physically, but I see the toll it takes on her every single time she uses her power on Odin.

It drains her.

It will eventually kill her, compounded by her sickness and my father’s abuse. Maybe not for a while, but still, getting Mjölnir is about more than finding a weapon. It’s about freedom.

Once it’s in my hands, though…then what? Once Laufey is secure, I dread just giving Odin what he wants. A weapon that would make him all-powerful.

I shake my head. I feel like I’m missing something. I pull out the dossier my father gave me and start reading.

Multiple hammers were forged before Mjölnir. The first two nearly split Asgard in half when Thor tried to wield them. The text reads that they weren’t tethered, that he was too young, too volatile, that the training to help him control their power only made them more unstable and unpredictable. Interesting. It doesn’t seem like the runes are what’s making Aric volatile.

And the rune responded to me.

To its identity.

More importantly, it’s responding to our blood.

Am I somehow helping stir the storm inside Aric? And what happens if all the memories, his own and the ones of Mjölnir,slam into him at once? Would that kill someone? We haven’t talked about it directly, but I suspect part of Aric’s powers being dormant may be to protect him.

Then again, the lightning didn’t kill him, so maybe he’s protected already. How nice for Aric, I think, to have a destiny, a purpose, a clear map of runes to show him the way, and the protection of the ultimate weapon that somehow, out of all the people on this godforsaken planet, chose him.

I’ve only ever been chosen for death.

I wonder if this is Aric’s chance to choose life.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Aric

The knock is so loud I nearly fall out of bed. A quick glance at the clock tells me it’s still the middle of the night. If it’s Reeve, drunk and wanting to chat, I’m going to murder him. Heart pounding, I fling the door open.

Rey stands there. Barefoot. Blank-eyed. Vulnerable. Looking like every victim in a crime show right before the other shoe drops.