Page 42 of Rune

And now, I’d never know how long Tova had cared for Trig or how long he knew he’d marry her instead. But as I retold the story—the emotions raw and the truth laid bare—I realized I couldn’t return home and pretend like all was fine. I’d do as I’d been planning to do before Balder found me in the vineyard. I’d find a new clan to call home. I never considered my heart to be tender, but it was too fragile to survive returning home.

More than that, last night reminded me I didn’t belong in Asgard. I’d find my safety in running.

“I’m sorry,” Ve said softly.

“I’ll be fine,” I said as I pulled myself back together. “It hurts because this happened a few days ago.”

His jaw dropped. “A few days! Gods, that’s why you’re so irritable.”

My gaze sliced to him. “Irritable? I think you mean assertive, and I’m always like that.”

“You always threaten gods to do your bidding? Get in fights with a hundred-year-old deity that led to your face being sliced open? Grumble at anyone who tries to get close to you?”

Perhaps I was irritable. “My face wasn’t sliced open,” I mumbled.

“There you go grumbling again.” He chuckled. The skies were bright now and the misty clouds thinned away from the trees while the flowers opened to find the rising sun. The warm light hit the brown flecks of Ve’s eyes and turned them almost golden when he fixed them on me. “I prefer this version though.”

I blinked. “Of what?”

“Of you. I prefer the real you over the one I’d imagined in my mind. This one is more exciting.”

It was the tiniest sliver of approval, but my thirsty heart soaked it up like a sponge.

“How about you?” I asked. “What’s your big life story?”

“No story,” he said. “At least not yet. I’m hoping to have a few though once I get to Earth.”

“I fear you are going to be sorely disappointed in my homeland.” I looked over Asgard. Earth was nothing like this. By now, the trees back home were losing their leaves and the grass was dead, and the fjord would soon be freezing. “Why do you want to go there so badly?”

He crossed his arms and thought about it for a few moments. “It’s more I don’t want to stay here.”

“That bad?” I asked, thinking of hisfaðir.

“Not usually, but…” He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s hard to describe. All I know is I don’t feel like I’m home yet. I’m hoping I’ll know where I’m supposed to be once I get there.”

I thought over his words until I found something familiar in them. “You’re searching for where you belong.”

His eyes brightened. “That’s it. I’m searching for where I belong.”

“Well, any clan would be thrilled to have someone like you,” I said truthfully. Someone of his size and strength would be a valuable asset to them. “Though they’ll get suspicious when you don’t age.”

He laughed. “I’ll move on then. Or maybe return here. We will see. You’re going to have that problem as well.”

“What?”

“You won’t age at the same rate either.”

I’d forgotten he thought I was a goddess. For a terrible moment, I opened my mouth to correct him. He wasn’t planning to marry me, and after two months, he wouldn’t see me again. No part of his plan or his future depended on me being a goddess, but the words stuck in my throat. Perhaps it was my sense holding them back. He didn’t need to know, and I didn’t want to share information with him that could be used against me. “I’ll figure something out,” I finally said.

“You’ve got time. For now, I’d like you to meet some of my friends.” When my brows raised, he put a hand to his chest. “Don’t look so surprised. I had a life before you showed up. Besides, it involves your favorite activity: fighting.”

He backed from the balcony, but I hesitated. “I think I’ve fought enough gods.” I touched my cheek.

“These ones are nicer,” he promised, flashing a smile. “And not nearly as skilled as me so you have a chance. They finished building the arena for the Champion Games, and its tradition my friends and I sneak inside to spar in it first.”

I frowned. “You’re the same age as me. You’ve been to one other Champion Games in your life.”

“It’s my first year joining,” he said with a laugh. “My brother is older than me, and he started it.”

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