Page 31 of The Viking in the Vault (Galactic Librarians #2)

ELENA

T he air in the sublevels of the Eiskammer is thick with cold, settling in my lungs and making my throat dry with every breath. Ice cracks softly beneath our boots, the only other sound the occasional hum of our gear and the quiet chatter of the team as we move deeper into the frozen corridors.

Dr. Kallisto leads the way, followed closely by Davina. Cosmia, Ves, and Rishik chat on and off ahead of us, and Ragnar flanks me, ever-protective. Fenrik scouts the area, trotting back every so often to be told he’s a good boy.

And every so often…a tremor.

Every single one makes me swear under my breath, looking around anxiously. When I was down here before, stupidly trying to get samples from the Llaekis Prime cores, one of these tremors made the whole tunnel collapse…and I fell.

In hindsight, it’s pretty strange—all those tunnels down there.

And now, we’re going back.

Dr. Kallisto frowns, her breath visible in the frigid air.

“Still unstable,” she mutters, glancing down at the shiny silver comm on her wrist. “Seismic activity is tapering off, but I don’t want anyone taking unnecessary risks.

Stick to marked pathways and avoid any overhangs that look compromised.

And Ragnar—try to keep your dog in check. ”

Ragnar grunts under his breath, annoyed. He’s unbothered by the cold, but my supervisor seems to piss him off to no end.

I stifle a sigh, casting a glance at Ragnar, who is very deliberately not looking at Kallisto.

His jaw is tight, his brow furrowed, his body language coiled and restrained like he’s resisting the urge to say something cutting.

He’s been good about holding his tongue—at least when it comes to my professional life—but I can tell Kallisto’s dismissal of Fenrik is testing his patience.

Fenrik, for his part, is completely oblivious. He trots ahead, tail wagging, sniffing at the ground with the kind of single-minded focus only a skarnhound can manage.

“I assure you,” Ragnar says, his voice cool and clipped, “Fenrik is in check.”

Kallisto doesn’t bother responding, just makes an unimpressed sound in the back of her throat and moves ahead.

I glance up at Ragnar, nudging his elbow with mine. “Play nice.”

His eyes flick to me, the frustration easing just a little. “I am playing nice.”

I arch a brow.

Ragnar exhales sharply, shifting his weight as we move deeper. “She dislikes me.”

“She dislikes most people,” I point out. “She barely tolerates me, and I’ve worked under her for years .”

Ragnar hums, but I can tell he’s not convinced.

He probably thinks it has more to do with him being a Skoll, or the fact that I keep not-so-subtly breaking professional conduct to be tangled up in his bed.

He wouldn’t be wrong. But Kallisto’s general disapproval extends beyond Ragnar.

She’s been waiting for me to slip up since I first joined her research team.

And now, I’ve given her every reason to doubt me.

Up ahead, Fenrik barks softly. Ragnar sighs and strides ahead before Kallisto can say anything…and then she’s slowing her pace to fall into step beside me.

Oof.

I’m not ready for this.

“Dr. Kallisto,” I say, nodding respectfully. “Do you need something?”

She grimaces. “You’re a talented scientist, Elena.”

My heart sinks. “I’m sensing a ‘but’ here.”

“You have the kind of mind that could change our understanding of the galactic climate system. You’ve fought for your place here. And yet—” her gaze sharpens, slicing into me “—you’ve been distracted.”

I force myself to hold her gaze. “This is temporary?—”

“I’m not just talking about the Skoll, though that is of course…concerning,” she says. “Even before that, you were having a difficult time meeting deadlines. Seemed more interested in catching up with your family back on Earth than in completing your research here in the Eiskammer.”

I grit my teeth. Oh , so we’re going there .

“I wasn’t just catching up with my family,” I say tightly. “My hometown has had a string of storms that kept forcing them to evacuate. They needed me.”

Kallisto inclines her head, not unkindly, but still entirely unimpressed.

“I understand that, and I sympathize, truly. But you still have responsibilities here. You fought for this position, Draycott. You proved yourself when many thought you weren’t ready for field research at this level.

I fought for you.” Her gaze hardens. “But you need to fight for yourself too.”

I swallow against the lump forming in my throat, irritation curling hot in my stomach. “I am fighting for myself.”

Kallisto gives me a look. “Are you?”

I stiffen.

She sighs, rubbing her temple. “You’ve let your research fall by the wayside for a man —an ancient Skoll who, by all accounts, should not be alive. That’s a distraction, Elena. A massive one…and if you were in history, perhaps I would accept that. But you’re not .”

I open my mouth, but she raises a hand before I can respond.

“I am not saying what you’ve discovered isn’t incredible.

I am not even saying that your pursuit of this particular research is invalid,” she says carefully.

“But I am saying that you have a pattern. You chase mysteries, you lose yourself in them, and then you have nothing left for the work you originally came here to do.”

I inhale sharply, my pulse thrumming in my ears. “That’s not fair.”

Kallisto lifts a brow. “Isn’t it?”

I press my lips together, too angry to answer. Too defensive to admit she’s not entirely wrong.

I have let things slip.

I have gotten distracted.

But it’s not just about Ragnar. It’s about what he represents. What he is. He changes everything. And yet all Kallisto sees is that I’m a lovestruck fool ignoring my responsibilities.

“Elena,” she says, softer now. “You’re an exceptional scientist. But if you keep letting your personal life bleed into your professional one, you’re going to lose credibility.” She exhales, glancing ahead. “You need to decide what kind of researcher you want to be.”

She doesn’t wait for me to respond. She just steps ahead, seamlessly falling back into step with Davina.

I let out a slow, shuddering breath, staring at the ice beneath my boots.

What kind of researcher do I want to be?

I already know the answer.

The kind that discovers something. The kind that changes something.

And if she thinks I’m going to back off now, she doesn’t know me at all.

I feel Ragnar’s solid presence again, and I look up to find him beside me, Fenrik with him. He’s peering at me, brow furrowed.

“Fenvarra,” he rumbles. “You are unhappy.”

I exhale, forcing a tight smile as I glance up at him. “I’m fine.”

His brows furrow. “You do not lie well.”

A tremor rolls beneath us, distant but real, and he tenses. His gaze shifts from me to the ice overhead, then down the corridor, his expression darkening.

I’ve seen that look before. It’s the one he gets when he senses danger.

I swallow hard. “Ragnar?”

His fingers twitch at his sides, his whole body going still.

“This place,” he mutters. “Something is wrong.”

The next tremor is harder, rattling the walls, shaking ice loose from above.

And this time, it doesn’t stop.