“Sounds delicious,” Lyall says, and so it’s decided.
I buy us each an ice cream, and we find ourselves a bench to sit on. What little snow we had over the weekend melted. It’s cold outside, but when Lyall sits beside me and loops an arm over my shoulders, I warm up inside and out. Lyall tears open his ice cream sandwich, gives it a sniff, andtakes a bite. I wince just imagining how cold his teeth must be.
Lyall moans his approval and goes in for another bite. “This is brilliant! Frozen cream and… what’s this? A cookie?”
His enthusiasm for the most mundane things never fails to make me laugh. “I’m kind of surprised you don’t have ice cream in your time. Obviously you don’t have refrigerators but it must get pretty cold where you’re from.”
“It does, aye.”
“So, what if you made some cream, put it in a bucket, and I don’t know, left it on a glacier or something?”
Lyall’s face lights up. “Oh, I get it now! It would freeze, and then I could bring it back to my pack.”
I can’t help leaning in to kiss him. He tastes like chocolate, so sweet and addictive it’s hard to pull away. Lyall suddenly breaks the kiss and steals a big bite of my ice cream.
“Hey!”
Lyall swallows the chunk of ice cream he bit off, and his face twists into one of agony as he grabs his head in his hands. “Cold. By the gods, it’s so cold!”
I bark a laugh. “That’s what you get!”
“Soren… I think I’m dying…” Lyall groans and rubs his forehead.
I huff and give his shoulder a pat. “You’ll be fine.”
Once Lyall’s recovered from his brain freeze, he decides he’s had enough ice cream for the day. When we board the boat, I’m munching on both his and mine while Lyall takes up the oars. That troubled look comes back on his face.
Reaching out, I squeeze his knee. “I’m right here.”
The light from the portal whites out Lyall’s face, and when it fades, we’re rowing toward a familiar island. Lyall gets out, water sloshing around his ankles, and heaves the boat the rest of the way to shore.
Farther down the beach, a crowd has gathered before a pyre. I freeze when I realize that the man resting on top of the pyre is Lyall’sfather.It’s Erik. He’s dead. I turn to check on Lyall and find his face blank. “This is the day it all ended.” There’s no emotion in his voice, and it unsettles me.
When a younger version of Lyall steps from the crowd, my breath catches. His eyes are red-rimmed, face grimy with dirt. His lip quivers as he draws a bow taut, flame rising from the arrowhead, and releases it. The pyre goes up in flames, consuming the body.
I look away, stomach churning. “Oh god, Lyall…”
Present Lyall doesn’t speak as he turns away from the funeral to face the water.
Before I can reach out to him, a voice catches my attention. “I swear to you all, I will help lead our pack out of this darkness.” It’s Wulfric. His voice is small, stuck somewhere between a boy’s and a man’s. God, he looks soyoung. They all do. Too young for such a terrible tragedy. “We will heal and come back from this terrible loss. I will honor Father’s memory and be the Alpha you all deserve.”
Gunnar and Lyall go to their brother and comfort him. Anders doesn’t. He glares at Wulfric like his brother is to blame for all of this. I search the crowd of grief-stricken faces but don’t find my own among them.
“My… my father did this?” My voice comes out as a croak.
“Aye,” Lyall says flatly.
I swallow hard, guilt thickening my throat. “Where am I?”
“By this point, you’d been imprisoned. The whole village thought you’d conspired with your father.” Lyall’s hands clench. “All those years you spent among us, and they turned on you in their desperation for someone to blame.” He shakes his head, muscles ticking in his jaw. “Fools, all of them. My brothers too.” He turns and marches back toward where the village is.
My heart aches at hearing him so angry. I almost don’t want to follow him, dreading what happens next, but he went through it alone and I’m not going to let that happen again. When Past Lyall leaves the funeral and walks the path to town, I follow. Shoulders slumped, he drags his feet through the street, sniffling softly. I wish I could reach out and touch him to let him know he’s not alone.
Once Past Lyall arrives at the longhouse, he approaches a cellar door along the side of the house. My stomach churns because I have a feeling I know what’s down there.
Present Lyall reclines against a wall nearby. He barely acknowledges me when I come up beside him. Lyall’s past self heads down into the basement. Present Lyall grabs my arm before I can go after him. “Are you sure you want to see? It’s still upsetting to me, even after all this time.”
I make myself nod. “I have to know.” Heart thudding, I follow Past Lyall down into the basement.
