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“Fuck off,” Skarde snarled back, loping into the woods. I went after him.
“Skarde.”
“Go back to Torsten,” he growled.
“Skarde, wait!”
My bare feet sank into the deep snow. I grabbed Skarde’s, arm and he recoiled from my touch. Strange, I thought. Skarde had never rejected my touch before, despite being on opposite sides of an ancient feud.
“Hey,” I said. “Don’t be like that. You can’t lecture Torsten about running away and then shut me out the same way he does. Tell me what’s going on.”
Before I could even register what he was doing, Skarde pulled me into his arms. My hands curled into the pelt draped across his shoulders.
“I cannot speak of Eir,” he whispered. Steam coiled from between his lips with each word. “At least, not yet. I thought I had become stronger in my grief, but I was wrong.”
“You lost someone. Grieving is natural.”
“I didn’t lose her in this life, I lost her in all lives. I can’t find her anywhere. And now there’s… you.”
“I get that, but you don’t have to hide from me. From us,” I replied. “I know you’re supposed to kill witches—that you’re supposed to kill me—but I’m more than that, remember? If Torsten and I are going to try and make things work between us, I’d like for you to at least be my friend. Things are complicated enough, don’t you think?”
Skarde nodded. “Things are indeed complicated. More so than I think you’re aware.” He released me and backed away. “But no, Jovi, I do not believe we can be friends.”
“Tell me you’ll forgive me,” I whispered. “For whatever I’ve done. I don’t want you to leave when this is all over.”
“I can make no promises,” he said, his jaw tight. “After all, the house stands on the ruins of the old. I don’t have a claim to it.”
“You’re not making sense.”
He smiled sadly. “I know. But if I can’t live in the house, I’d rather not step foot in it at all.”
Whatever that was supposed to mean. Skarde was growing more confusing by the minute.
“I’ll come back, Jovi. Just leave me alone. I need to think.”
I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay here and shake him until he agreed to talk to me, until he opened up and let me in. But if I forced his hand, we’d argue, and we didn’t have time for that. Giving him space was probably the best option.
“Promise you’ll come back.”
“I promise.”
I watched him walk away, staring blankly at his back until he disappeared into the trees. Torsten had said something similar during one of our arguments. He’d said it not long before confessing his feelings. The brothers were just similar enough that it wasn’t a stretch to think that Skarde’s rejection was just a front like Torsten’s had been. I didn’t believe Skarde had romantic feelings for me, but he trusted me on a level I still didn’t quite understand. And that trust was something I didn’t want to lose.
I turned back the way I’d come, feelings smarting. Which made no sense at all. We hadn’t known each other long enough to be buddies. We weren’t lovers. Skarde wasn’t anything to me really, other than Torsten’s brother.
So why did it feel like he was more than that?
***
“Jovi,” Torsten said, breath coming out on a grateful exhale. He’d set the snoozing Fyrcat aside and moved to embrace me. “You’re back.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I responded, stepping into the circle of his arms.
His lips brushed my neck, and the heat from his body caused me to shiver. The smell of something dark and woody filled my nose. Torsten’s chest rumbled, vibrating my back and sending tingles racing down my spine. I leaned into the solid wall of his muscular torso, which supported my weight easily.
Ogun picked up his book, pulling us out of the moment. The dwarf tucked his journal back into his bag. “I didn’t even get to the good part of the story,” he said absentmindedly.
“There’s more?” I asked.
