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ChapterTwenty-Four
SUNDAY
Isat on the back porch, a mug of cocoa in my hands keeping me warm as I stared blankly at the falling snow. I hadn’t trusted my instincts when Tor had walked through the portal. I should have. There’d been something off about him from moment one. And Alek had been right there. So close. Within reach. Why didn’t he want to come back?
“You don’t look very happy for someone who’s about to go get her mate back,” Tor said, joining me.
It hurt to look at him now that I knew the truth. For all that he was a mirror image, it was easy to spot the subtle differences in their appearance. Tor raised his left eyebrow instead of his right. And there was a golden freckle in his eye that Alek didn’t have. He also had a small scar right along his cheekbone. All small things, but when taken together they couldn’t be ignored.
“I can’t believe I didn’t see you weren’t him.”
He shrugged; the slight movement from such a large frame made the bench wobble. “We spent our lives pretending to be one another. Even our parents had trouble telling us apart most days. Father used to threaten us with tattoos just so he’d know which of us needed punishment.”
“Well, I guess that makes me feel a little better.”
He offered me a smile. “That was the point.”
“How’d you get that scar?” I pointed to his cheek, trying to distract myself from the guilt I couldn’t escape.
“Alek. We were no more than seven at the time. Our baby sister Astrid had just been born, and the two of us had been acting out. He threw a rock at my face.”
“Why would he do that?”
Tor’s lips twitched. “Because I called him Alistair. He hates his middle name, even though he was named for a famous mage.”
I snorted. “Ah, so he was having one of his temper tantrums. That sounds like something he would do. Your mother is a healer, right? So why didn’t she fix it?”
Tor settled back, his hands folded over his flat stomach. “My father told her scars add character. And it would be a good reminder that I needed to be more vigilant. Though, truth be told, I think he just wanted a way to tell us apart.”
“Your father seems a little... intense.”
“That’s the berserker. He’s not so bad once you get to know him. You’ll see once you meet him. He’s firm but fair. He’ll do right by you and the babe.”
The mention of the baby, of doing right by us, had fear creeping up and taking over. Things I hadn’t given voice to finally took center stage. “I’m not sure I should go.”
“Why? You’re carrying my brother’s child. Of course you should go. He needs to know.”
“Alek chose to stay in Novasgard. If our bond was as strong as I thought, why wouldn’t he jump at the chance to come back to me? I don’t understand what happened to keep him there.”
Tor’s jaw tensed, a small muscle jumping in his cheek. “I don’t know. It’s not like him. He’s a mischievous fucker on his best day, but he’s not the kind of man who would leave his mate behind. That kind of bond means everything to us—to him. Something must have happened—” He broke off, shaking his head and releasing a frustrated growl. “I just can’t think of anything that explains it.”
“So something is wrong.That’s your explanation?”
“He told me he hadn't met anyone. That no one important was waiting for him.” He must’ve seen the hurt in my eyes because he took my hand and squeezed. “I can see now that wasn’t true. My brother would never have given you his name to etch on your skin if you weren’t important.”
“He called me Kærasta.”
Tor went still, his eyes sweeping over my face. “No wonder he couldn’t control his berserker. There’s no way he would use that word, knowing what it means, and leave you here.”
“But that’s exactly what he did.”
“Maybe he thought sending me in his place would give you some kind of connection to him while he works on learning control? That having me here to protect you was better than nothing at all?”
“Really? My tongue was down your throat. That seems like an unnecessary connection.”
“Well, that’s not new either. There are perks to being identical.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Mirror images in every way.”
“My dance card is full.”
