Page 30 of Tyr

Her eyes took on a faraway expression. He wanted to ask more, but when it came to trauma, you had to let the victim speak in their own time.

“He told me it was time to do my job,” she whispered. “I needed to determine whether or not the man had been stealing from him. So, I delved into the man’s mind, and yes, he had stolen from his boss. But he had done it to pay the hospital bill for his little girl.”

She took a shuddered breath.

“What did you do?” Tyr asked quietly.

“I lied. I told him the man wasn’t stealing. I told him it had been someone else. That was the first time he hit me. He said he had proof the man had stolen from him, and I was covering for him. That night, I slept chained in a closet in the boss’s bedroom above his strip club. It was… awful, to say the least, and not because of the physical abuse, either. He made me watch… other things. After that, I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t be the reason he hurt people. And every time he took me to read someone, I stayed silent, and he would beat me. Later, he would apologize and bring me more gifts. Flowers, food, jewelry. Even a car. When it didn’t work, he tried to appeal to me… sexually. He…”

Tyr’s grip cracked the corner of the wooden table.

Celeste’s gaze traveled to where his metal hand gripped the wood and stayed there for a long minute.

Finally, her gaze connected with his. “He told me if I didn’t do what he wanted, I was no use to him, and he would kill both my mother and me. That’s when he used the bat. I thought he would kill me that night.”

“What stopped him?”

“Someone got stabbed in his club, and he left. When his guard put me back in the closet, I knew when he got back, I would die. So, I did the thing I’d only done once before in my life. The one thing my father told me I must never do unless it was the worst of emergencies. I opened up my mind to the entire world and called for him. I didn’t think he would hear me because I’d been calling for days with no response, but that time, it worked. Something about my kind of psychic power being amplified by the mix of his blood and my mother’s and my ability being able to break through the barrier that separates the realms or something. I don’t know.”

“And he came for you.”

“Yup. He set a fire in the dumpster outside. When everyone raced outside, he broke in, got me out, and brought me down here. Man, it’s only been less than a week, but it feels like it’s been a lifetime since that happened.” Celeste breathed in deeply and smiled. “Is the tea ready?”

Tyr pouredthem both a bright pink cup of tea. Celeste brought it to her lips, blew on it, and sipped. It tasted of berries and fruit with a hint of cinnamon and something else she couldn’t place. As it slid down her throat, it warmed her from the inside out and made her smile despite having just told Tyr about her ordeal.

It surprised her that she’d not shed one tear while telling him. Why was that? She thought for a moment and realized itwas because she wasn’t sad. Wasn’t hurt. She was pissed. Super pissed. Mega pissed at what had been done to her. Now that her injuries had mostly healed, she only wanted one thing– revenge.

Revenge on Anton. Revenge on Amezodile. Revenge on her mother.

Tyr watched her with a heated gaze. She didn’t doubt that if she told him where Anton lived, he would leave that instant to let Anton endure his wrath. Problem was, he would never let her help. Just like her dad. And no matter what her father did to Anton, Celeste would get her own revenge in the end.

“I’ve never had tea before. I like it.” She took another sip.

Tyr nodded and sipped his own tea, but his gaze never left her face.

“So, I told you my story. You tell me yours.”

His eyebrows smashed together. “What story?”

“The story of how you misplaced your hand.”

CHAPTER 9

Tyr flexed his hand.“I thought everyone knew the story of how I lost my hand. I mean, it’s in all the mythology books and stuff.”

“But that is rarely the real story, isn’t it?”

Tyr’s gut clenched. “It is in this case. I betrayed Fenrir, who had been like a brother and son to me.”

“Why?”

“Because Odin wished it.”

She sipped her tea. “Are you bound to obey Odin no matter what?”

“Not anymore, but back then, yes.” Tyr’s gut clenched. The betrayal of Fenrir hit him more than all the people he’d killed in his lifetime. Of everything he’d done, that was the one that hurt him most.

“So, Fenrir tore your hand off.”

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