Ever since I swiped Jason, I’ve been afraid of my claws coming out. Now it feels weird towantthem to. I don’t have to be afraid of them, I remind myself. Mom was a berserkr too. But she was in denial. She never had a chance to attend a school like Skallagrim, where she could have learned to control it. Touseit.
But Ican.
My nails start to lengthen before my eyes. Curling and sharpening to fine-tipped points. They’re long and pale just like Mom’s. For once, when I look at my claws, I’m not terrified. I’m awed by them. They actually look… beautiful to me. Because these claws don’t just belong to me.
They belonged to Mom first.
“Val just texted me,” Amund says, checking his phone. Somehow it’s already Thursday. We’ve been waiting to hear from her for the past twenty minutes, standing awkwardly in the middle of campus after our classes ended. “Irina just went to the library. We should have plenty of time.”
“Great. Let’s go.”
Amund removes a dark chunk of coal from his pocket. “One last thing.”
“A lump of coal? Really?”
A small smile tugs his lips. “It’s the helm of concealment.”
“Um, I don’t think it’s working,” I point out. “I can still see you.”
Amund laughs. “I know. My blood is required to activate the stave.”
“Then let me,” I say, searching his face slowly. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”
I stare down at my nails and concentrate.
Slowly, they start to sharpen into claws.
I grin. “See? I’ve been practicing the past couple of days.”
“Impressive,” Amund says, even though this isallI’ve managed to do.
I still haven’t been able to transform, even when I tried again in class earlier today.
He offers me his hand without hesitation.
Amund isn’t afraid of me.
Meeting his eyes, I press my claw to the pad of his finger. Amund doesn’t so much as flinch as his skin parts and bright blood wells. His eyes remain fixed on mine.
I withdraw, watching while he closes his fingers around the stave—
Amund vanishes before my eyes.
I stare in disbelief at the empty space where he was a moment before. “I think it worked.”
If he responds, I can’t hear him.
I glance around, unsure where to even look.
Something brushes the back of my hand. Amund. Well, hopefullyit’s him. This is so weird. I hold my hand out hesitantly, not sure what to expect. His fingers lace through mine—
Amund appears as suddenly as he disappeared.
“Oh.”
“Sorry, I probably should have prepared you more. It’s my first time using it with someone else.”
I look down at our entwined hands. His fingers are warm and steady, but I can feel the calluses on his palm from all his training. There’s something reassuring about his hand in mine. “As long as we hold hands, I’ll be invisible too?”
