Page 153 of The Sun He Buried

I lower them.

“Eirik.”

Solveih is still with Baldr.

The pride has gone. Safety remains.

He gives her that without effort. A warm room. A hand in her hair. Somewhere to put every soft part of herself while the weather throws itself against the walls.

I gave her a doorway and breakfast.

Ketill comes closer. “We’re finished.”

“You are.”

“Put your hands up.”

“Make me.”

His anger spikes.

Finally.

He hits me across the cheek. The mask takes most of it. The runes beneath split anyway. Blood warms the inside of the metal.

I stay on my feet.

“Again.”

Ketill stares at me.

His anger drains.

No.

“Again.”

He turns toward the fence.

I catch the back of his shirt and pull him around.

“Do not walk away from me.”

“Then stop making me do it.”

I swing.

He ducks.

His fist drives beneath my ribs. I fold over it. He catches my shoulder before I fall and shoves me upright.

“Defend yourself.”

“You’re doing poorly.”

Ketill’s mouth is bleeding. One eye has begun to swell. He looks tired.

I have known him six hundred years. He has never looked away when I needed him to.