Page 39

RAGNAR

The diner was a cage, and I was suffocating in it.

The booths were too small, the air too stale, and every sound grated on my nerves—the hum of the appliances, the clatter of plates in the kitchen, the jukebox playing some human tune that was too cheerful to stomach.

But it wasn’t the cramped space or the noise that made my muscles coil tight with frustration. It was the walls.

They were covered in pictures. Dozens of them.

At first, I’d ignored them, keeping my eyes on the mug of coffee that tasted like burnt dirt, but I couldn’t stop my eyes from drifting.

Eve was in nearly all of them. A smiling, gap-toothed kid holding a tray of burgers next to an old man.

A teenager with her hair in a messy ponytail, bussing tables.

An adult, grinning at the camera, holding a pie like she’d invented it herself.

Every time I forced my eyes away, I’d catch another picture in my periphery.

Every goddamn grin etched itself deeper into my brain. Like I didn’t already have enough ghosts.

I clenched the coffee cup in my hand as my mind tried to wander to places I didn’t allow it to go anymore. To memories of someone else who had smiled like that. Someone who had carried a light I couldn’t look at directly, not even back then.

I shoved the thoughts down, locking them away where they belonged.

The coffee tasted bitter as I took another sip, but I welcomed the burn. Anything to keep me from looking at those damn pictures again.

The diner was quiet—thank the gods for small mercies. No customers had wandered in for over an hour, and the only other sounds came from the kitchen where Eve worked. She was talking to another person, the occasional laugh drifting through the air and setting my teeth on edge.

Like she didn’t know there was a wrecking ball headed her way. Or worse—like she knew, and didn’t care.

I sat back in the booth, forcing myself to take slow breaths. The long years stuck on this fucking rock were wearing me down, but being around her had made it so much worse.

Orion was fucking wrong. I would know if that magic was here on Earth this whole time. I’d have hunted the Titan to the ends of the earth if there’d been a single fucking sign of a Phoenix on earth. I’d have found any way to get back to her, even if she was nothing but ash.

My brother was grasping at straws, just desperate for a way home and Eve was the last fucking person on the planet I’d put my gold on.

I looked at the clock on the wall. Orion and Xander had been gone for hours.

They’d left me here to babysit the glorified fire-starter, like I didn’t have better things to do with my time.

I glared down at my coffee, my fingers tightening around the mug again.

The ceramic groaned under the pressure, but I didn’t care.

I’d break everything in this cesspit if it meant getting the fuck out of here.

The kitchen door swung open, and they emerged, still locked in conversation. Eve had her hands full of plates, her eyes bright as she grinned at the other woman. The sight of her in motion—carefree, unbothered—made my blood boil.

How fucking dare she laugh when her light was snuffed out?

“He looks like someone dumped flour in his coffee instead of sugar,” the older woman whispered loudly enough for a deaf man to hear.

“I can hear you, wretched woman,” I growled, cutting through the slow song playing on the jukebox.

The ballsy woman didn’t even look my way. Her head tipped slightly to the side, as if dismissing me entirely, and I watched her spine straighten as she turned her back on me.

“So,” she said, far too brightly, her tone as sharp as the click of her heels against the tiled floor. “I know it’s still a few days away, but I wanted to remind you about the Halloween party I’m throwing on Friday—”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

The words were out before I could stop them. Both women froze, their heads whipping toward me like I’d just spit at them.

“Excuse me?” Eve snapped, putting the plates on the counter. She straightened to her full height—not that it made a difference—and leveled me with a glare that should’ve been laughable. “Cavemen don’t get a say in my weekends.”

I set the cup down hard enough to crack the mug and leaned back in the booth. “You’re not fucking going. It’s as simple as that.”

“Oh, hell no,” the older woman cut in, marching toward me like she could intimidate me. She stopped just short of the table, planting her hands on her hips and jabbing a finger in my direction. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you don’t speak to her that way.”

My lips curled into something between a smirk and a snarl, and I tilted my head slightly, letting my gaze drag over her like she wasn’t worth the effort. “Back the fuck off, lady, unless you intend to lose that finger.”

Her mouth opened to respond, but Eve was already moving, cutting her off.

“Okay! That’s enough,” Eve pulled her away before I could melt the floor beneath her fucking feet. “Come on. Kitchen. Now.”

The woman protested, her steps stumbling slightly. “Eve, men like him are all bark and no bite. I’ve got this-”

The kitchen door swung shut, cutting off whatever response Eve might’ve given. For a moment, silence returned to the diner, and I let out a slow breath, the tension in my shoulders loosening slightly.

But it didn’t last. The silence brought on thoughts I didn’t want to have.

Thoughts about her, about the way she looked at me like I was something to fight instead of something to fear.

She had no right to challenge me. I was a fucking god!

I’d leveled cities with my magic, forced mountains to crumble into dust with barely a look and this fucking girl thought she could test me?

I told myself it was better this way. She was safer keeping her distance from all of us. Safer scurrying back to her boring life and leaving us be.

I’d let her hate me. That was safer for both of us.