Nils stops. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just… I’m worried about my sister.” I sigh. “She’s already made friends here.”Unlike me,I don’t add. “I’m happy for her, but I’m worried one day she won’t need me anymore.”
“She’ll always need you,” Nils says with conviction.
My throat feels thick, and I struggle to swallow. “What if that changes?”
“It won’t.”
He isn’t just talking about me and Bea, is he?
I worry my lip between my teeth. “But you and your brother…”
“Amund didn’t choose me,” Nils says. “You’ll always choose your sister, won’t you?”
“Of course.”
Something in Nils’s expression shifts. He looks… almost sad, but then it quickly disappears. “Then you have nothing to worry about.”
My eyes ache. “Thank you, Nils.”
“Of course. What are friends for?”
Friends.I smile at that. Maybe making friends isn’t so impossible for me either.
As we continue toward the witch campus, more and more girls are staring at me. Is it because they can tell I don’t belong here, or because I’m with Nils? He’s cute, even if he’s not my type. Since he’s one of the only guys enrolled in this track, I figured he’d be one of the most popular students among the witches by default. I catch a few girls eying him with interest.
“Hey, Irina.” Nils approaches a girl with a brown bun and large, rounded glasses that slip down her nose as she struggles to balance her umbrella and a ton of books. “Need some help?”
Irina gives a defeated smile. “Is it that obvious? I was just on my way to the library.”
“Not surprised.” Nils takes the books from her with his free hand, only to falter himself. “Jeez, Irina. Are these made of iron?”
“I know, right? They’re a lot heavier than they look.”
Now Nils is the one struggling to hold them all.
“Let me help,” I offer, taking half the stack. Except… the books are surprisingly light. “What? These hardly weigh anything.”
Nils and Irina exchange a look. “Berserkir.”
I blink, still not used to my own strength since I started to awaken.
Irina sighs. “Why doesn’t she carry them all?”
Nils’s arms strain as he struggles to hold the books along with his umbrella. “No, I got this.”
He very clearly does not.
“I don’t mind. You needed to talk to Irina, right?” I gently remind him.
“Right,” Nils says, but he doesn’t hand over the books. He turns to face Irina. “Was Emilía acting odd recently?”
Irina’s eyes widen. “Have you heard from her?”
My mouth twists. I can’t help it.
Even Nils’s expression shutters. “No, I haven’t.”
