“I need some air.” I shove back from the table and walk a few feet away, a panic attack imminent. I can feel it. I know we’re outside, but I need to walk. I take off, heading away from the bonfires.
Suddenly, someone’s rubbing my back. When I look over my shoulder, I find that it’s Rowen, staring straight ahead.“Everything will go just like we planned, Rey.”
He followed me. What plan? What is he talking about?
“I’ll distract as many as I can while you run off. Eira’s going to help and—”
I jerk my head toward him. “Since when?”
“What?”
“Since when did you ask Eira for help?”
He reels back. “Um, since I figured a hot girl throwing herself at Reeve might actually distract him enough not to shadow your every move.”
My stomach sinks. “What did you tell her?”
“That Odin’s a God,” he says with a smirk. “Relax. I told her I needed her help and that I would really appreciate it, and she said okay.”
“Sexual favors?”
“No. But I did promise I’d help her pass bio. Are you done interrogating me now? We have more important things to worry about, like unlocking the last rune, setting a Giant into the wild, and hoping he leads you to Mjölnir, all without anyone finding out.”
“Right.” I huff out an exhale. “You’re right.”
“You’re making the best choice.”
I am. He just doesn’t know that my choice has nothing to do with giving my father Mjölnir and everything to do with trusting Aric.
I glance over at Odin.
Mjölnir is rightfully his—ours—but he doesn’t deserve it. “Did he really burn the entirety of Jötunheim to the ground, Rowen?”
“Yes.”
“And worlds before it?”
“He only killed those who wouldn’t bow.”
I smile. “I thought the Giants were peaceful?”
He scowls. “I thought Gods were good?”
Touché.
People start getting up from their tables. I slowly make my way back toward Aric, pushing the crowd with my Aethercall for good measure. “Now’s as good a time as any,” I say quietly when I reach him.
“Agreed,” he says gruffly.
As the others run ahead of us, we fall into step together, shoulders brushing. The drums fade as the forest closes around us, shadows thickening, the air colder.
The minute the canopy swallows the torches, I tug at Aric’s sleeve. I dart my eyes once toward the others, then back to him. Without a word, I pull him sideways, shuffling us into a group of revelers before yanking him deeper into the trees.
The crowd’s noise muffles, fading into the distance until all that’s left is the sound of our breathing and the crunch of frost beneath our boots.
We run. Away from the laughter. Away from the bonfires. Straight into the kind of darkness that feels like it was waiting for us.
Chapter Seventy-Five
