Aric knew the location of Nightfrost.
And Nightfrost knew the location of Mjölnir.
Hidden in plain sight, under the power of runes and three Giants.
The greatest weapon in the world wasn’t just being protected by Aric.
It’s a part of him.
Chapter Eighty-Two
Rey
I’m too stunned to move.
Rowen. The one I trusted, the one I leaned on. All those nights I complained to him, the way he joked with me when I was breaking, the stories we would tell about Thor—about the God he could never be. And all along, he was sitting there, smiling at me, lying to me.
My chest tightens. Tears burn hot and blur everything, but not enough to erase the sight of him in that armor, not enough to silence Aric’s cries echoing like a dirge through the chamber.
Hiding in plain sight. Thor. God of Thunder.
The ground crunches beneath my boots, shards of frost cracked and shattered from someone’s fury—Aric’s fury. His rage is etched into every surface: walls clawed with jagged ice, pillars fractured where the frost exploded outward.
Rowen steps away, empty-handed. What happened? Did he not set Mjölnir free?
Men shove me forward, rough, causing me to fall to the hard ground in front of my father.
Odin’s still holding his pistol—sleek, black, merciless like his eyes. He levels the weapon at my chest.
“All I ever needed,” he says softly, almost lovingly, “was your blood. And now, when we have the hammer in our hands, I can regenerate as much of it as I want. Don’t worry, you won’t be awake for it. After all, everyone has a purpose. I’ve always found it entertaining how often you thought you had a purpose outside of existing simply so he can thrive.”
He tilts his head past me, eyes cutting to the figure standing just over my shoulder.
“Thor,” Odin snaps. “I let you try on your own out of the kindness of my heart, but you know as well as I do that it will not respond to the blood of a betrayer. It will not choose you as worthy any longer. Once Rey passes me the hammer, I’ll restore the Bifrost, then use my power to put her to sleep. If you ever cared for her, you’ll show her this one kindness.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Everyone dies.” Odin shrugs. “Your friends, Laufey, your precious Giantess…one by one, I’ll kill every soul at this school. Is that what you want?”
“I can pull it!” Thor yells. “It’s my birthright!”
“And it will be your downfall,” Father snaps, then shoves me toward Rowen.
Thunder rumbles overhead as Father continues talking.
“Destroying Jötunheim needed to be done, but Mjölnir refuses to see it. The hammer will no longer respond to our tainted blood, yet hers has never seen war. It will only recognize her.”
This is it.
I’ll pull Mjölnir and save Aric, shield him with my body, and hope it gives him enough time to heal so he can enact his revenge.
And if I die in the process?
Worth it to save the world.
Slowly, I stand, aware of my father’s gun still pointed at me, and walk toward Thor, desperately trying to push both of them with my Aethercall, knowing we’re well past that. My last steps. I think about my moments with Aric. At least I had them. At least I had friends. At least, for just a fraction of a second, I experienced life.
And it was everything.
