I kick at them and rein in my breathing, then stomp down the trail leading toward the lake. My senses are attuned to anyone else who might be nearby, but it’s quiet. First day of classes and all that.
I feel like I’m losing control, but the last thing I can do is go to Sigurd and admit it. The drugs are no longer suppressing my heightened emotions now that Rey’s on campus, and he fucking allowed her to just waltz right in. Is this punishment for two years ago?
These last few days, it’s been one trigger after another.
It’s her. Rey is fucking with something inside me, and I need it to stop.
Now.
I reach down and grab a log as big as my thigh that’s fallen across the path. But as I crank my arm to whip it into the forest, I see I’ve actually made a half-inch dent in the bark where my fingers dug in.
Stunned, I drop it to the ground. I stare at my fingertips. I don’t have any scratches or other signs that I’ve just pressed my fingers through wood.
Well, that’s new.
“You’re from a long line of Giants,” I was once told, “but don’t worry, the medications should help you. Just try to control it—you’re the first who’s been born away.”
“Away?” I asked.
“From Jötunheim.”
Home.
I could taste it, smell it, wanted to experience it. “When can we go back, Sigurd?”
His eyes went pitch-black. “Never. The Gods burned it to the ground. You can’t return to ash.”
“Did you make them pay?” I asked.
“No. But one day, I will.” He smiled and patted my head. “Until then, just enjoy the fresh snow around us, focus on the cold, and all will be okay.”
My stomach clenches again.
I’m bending over to examine the branch when something dark and sinister swirls inside my chest. The pressure builds, and it feels like whatever it is, it’s trying to break free. I want to scream into the void, rail against whatever the hell this is, but instead I do something I’ve never done before. Something Sigurd’s warned me about. The one thing I’ve been told never to do because this world is made for men, not for the likes of Gods and monsters. Not for the likes of me.
I give in to the darkness and free-fall into the all-consuming cold around me.
And for the first time in a long time, I feel freedom.
My back starts to heat up, my jaw aching from clenching my teeth. Slowly, my lips part, and when I open my eyes, every exhale shows my breath turning to frost in front of me.
I think about Rey and Rowen.
Unreleased fury builds like a storm inside my chest until I let out a scream and crash my hands against a tree. A crack soundsas the tree splits in half and slams to the ground.
Frost lingers around the crack in the bark, along with a sheen of ice, and my fingertips are numb with the feeling of rightness.
I take a minute to relish in it, to breathe in the cold, crisp air.
What am I capable of? I’m not sure. I don’t think anyone is.
I shake my head.
What hasn’t Sigurd told me about being a Giant and everything it entails? Especially being that I was born here. Whenever I bring up my parents and my past, all I get are warnings, a lecture, or my favorite, silence. He wants me to be patient, but it feels like time is running out and I can’t figure out why.
And what does it have to do with her?
My stomach aches again.
