Page 116 of Into the Isle

It wasn’t enough. I wanted to spend more time with him, to get to know him even better. He rarely, if ever, spoke of his friends, family, or motivations.

Then again, I hadn’t asked.

Feeling more confident than before, I took his huge hand in mind. “Grim, can I ask you something?”

“Hmm.” His typical grunt made my body thrum. His hand was warm and protective, enveloped around mine.

Craning my neck to look up at him, I said, “Who was Koll? Your father. I guess I’m asking how you ended up, well . . . alone. Without friends here.”

“I once had Eirik and his ilk, before they abandoned me after last year’s debacle with Anders.”

Right. The student who poisoned you, who you killed.

I winced. I didn’t want to talk about Eirik. My elder brother was frustrating me. I thought he’d play a bigger role in my growth at Vikingrune Academy, and he’d been all but absent since I’d first arrived. Eirik picked me up from Selby, dropped me off at the gates, and basically said, “Here you go, sis. Have fun learning the hard way.”

“It’s a bleak story, little sneak. You won’t like it.”

I looked up again at Grim’s stern face. “Then you don’t have to tell it to me if you don’t want. I’m sorry for asking.”

“I don’t mind.”

I waited, trying not to pry or be nosy. I felt ashamed for even asking him to dredge up his past. The nightbirds and forest critters made little sounds around us as we walked through the thinning woods, which grew denser in the distance.

“Koll was only one of my fathers. The other was named Kerr.”

My eyebrows jumped. That was new.

“Neither of them biological,” he said, voice rumbling. “Growing up as a bear shifter is an isolating experience. As young children, we are given ‘exposure’ in the woods, to live alone. If a child survives and returns to his tribe, he is generally accepted.”

“Gods above, Grim. And if he doesn’t return to the tribe?”

Grim said nothing for a moment. The answer was obvious. Survival of the fittest . . . at such a young age? How heartless.

“My parents didn’t want me to begin with. They left me out in the woods and didn’t accept me once I returned.”

He let out a heavy sigh, and I said, “Grim, please, you don’t have—”

“You asked,” he cut in. “I answer.”

Gulping, I nodded. We kept walking, hand in hand.

“Exiled from my home, two men chanced upon me. Koll and Kerr. Men who loved each other very much but could not have children of their own. They adopted me, feeling that finding me was a blessing from the gods.”

He slowed down his speech, staring down at the undergrowth beneath our feet. He kicked at a stone and it went tumbling into a tree trunk.

He was opening up to me, and I felt a huge sense of appreciation for him to trust me enough to pour his heart out.

“Unfortunately, it wasn’t much better with my adopted fathers. They were persecuted in their own way. We were forced to live in the woods together. One day, a raiding party arrived in the woods with pitchforks and torches.”

“Odin save me,” I murmured.

“The All-Father didn’t save my fathers. They protected me and I escaped while the raiders slaughtered them. I suspect it was my biological parents who were in charge of the raiding party.”

Tears bit at the corners of my eyes. My heart broke for Grim, who told his story without emotion, without regret. No tears fell from his eyes; not even anger showed on his flat face.

We reached the edge of the woods.

I wrapped my arm around his waist. “Oh Grim, I’m so, so fucking sorry.” My head leaned against his bicep, wanting only to hold and console him.

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