Page 30 of Rune

There was only one large wool. It went to Tova.

My parents would bundle me in layers of clothes at night with an undeniable look of pity in their eyes. It might be doing her a kindness,Faðirwhispered toMóðirone night when they thought I was asleep. If she dies now, she’ll avoid a hard life.

I shoved the memory away. Tova hadn’t remembered having the only wool that winter, but I’d never forget. And all that time, this one was here, left for a girl who never claimed it while children were freezing each winter.

Ve stood with a confused look on his face. “You find this sad?”

He could never understand what it meant to be so cold you might freeze or so hungry you might starve. He’d never know how it felt to be an outcast or to not feel wanted. I didn’t have the heart to explain it to him. “Yes, I find it sad. This is a sign of people trapped in sadness. People go missing. People die. But this—it does nothing to fix that.”

He picked up the rattle. “This isn’t sad. It’s love. This is proof of how cherished you are, even by those you’ve never met. Your whole life you’ve had the full might of Asgard searching for you, entire clans mourning you, and altars built in your remembrance while we all prayed that one day you’d be returned to us. Odin is already planning a huge celebration for your name day in two months.” He tossed me the rattle. “All this is proof you’re loved.”

The rough edge of the rattle scraped against my hand, and I twisted it to inspect all sides. A thin snake had been carved into the edge, tracing its narrow head up to the cusp of the rattle, where it nestled in as if sung to sleep with a lullaby and not waiting to strike. It’d been painted once, but the colors were faded now. “A child would have loved to play with this, but instead it was wasted.”

“It wasn’t wasted.” He took a step toward me, and the intensity of his gaze was so great, it was hard to look away. “You were never a waste.”

I looked down, then had to turn my face away. “Gods,” I whispered. The tender way he’d said that stirred up something deep in my chest, and each syllable was a crack against the stone. His words had found a crevice and hit hard enough, streams of unchecked emotion spilled out.

You were never a waste.

“Are you okay?” Ve asked softly. I remembered that in his eyes, he was speaking to the girl he was pledged to marry. A girl he’d waited his entire life to meet.

I blinked hard. “I’m fine.”

But I lied. This missing child had been so fiercely loved, people gave up treasured items like this rattle, or the wools and gems, all for someone they never even knew. They loved her from the depths of their hearts, from the very first day they knew of her.

I’d seen a love like that. It wasn’t for me.

I longed to feel adored someday. Suddenly, the rattle in my hand wasn’t sorrowful, it was a bitter reminder of a love I didn’t have, and I might never experience.

Except last night, I got a taste of it. From the moment I walked in the room, the gods welcomed me with open arms and made me feel like I was something to be desired. The warm feeling was still there as a hum beneath my skin, tempting me with how addicting it was and reminding me, if I played my cards right, I could have that forever.

I tightened my grip on the rattle. This wasn’t mine, and this home wasn’t for me. That seemed to be a mantra I had to repeat to myself over and over.

This love would be nothing compared to their fury when they discovered I was lying about who I was.

Adoration was nice, but I’d lived without it. I must be willing to do so again.

Reignited with my plan, I wandered closer to Ve. I shoved the sorrow deep into my gut and filled my mind with thoughts of escape and freedom. “I suppose when you put it that way, it doesn’t seem so sad.”

He let me approach him with a tentative look in his eye, until our hands were close enough to touch. I watched him gulp. If he had spent his life waiting for his precious fiancée, he likely hadn’t experienced the advances of a woman. I only needed to stun him for a moment to get my blade out.

From the husk in his tone, I was doing my job correctly. “You might think you don’t belong here, but you do. You belong in Asgard as much as any of us do.”

“That’s really nice.” I smiled softly, like the moment had been romantic somehow. He dropped his head to look at me, our lips coming close. Slowly, I reached to my waist and withdrew a blade.

With his gaze locked on mine, I took the opportunity.

Quickly as I could manage, I unsheathed my blade and held it up, using my other arm to push him backward against the stone wall of the cave, watching in triumph as his eyes widened. “But I don’t belong here.” I pushed the knife against his throat, feeling the stubble of his beard against the back of my hand and hearing how his breath caught. “And you’re going to return me to Danmark.”

ElEvEn

HIS EYES DARKENED into storms and his voice rumbled. “What are you doing?”

“Surviving,” I said with a growl to my tone. Rocks shifted beneath my feet, but I dug in deeper to hold my ground. Ve was twice my size, so it was only the threat of my blade at his throat that kept me from being snapped in two. “You see, I’m quite fond of Danmark. It might be cold, but the people are simple and the work easy.” I pressed the blade harder, and he scowled. “I’d like to go back. Now.”

His hand moved, but I snatched it away and pressed the blade into his skin until a dot of dark red blood appeared, tracing a line down to his collar bone and settling into the fibers of his tunic.

The muscles in his jaw feathered. “Back away.”

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