Chapter 13
“What the hell’sgotten up your ass, Norse?” Aethan growled, counter-circling Týr and keeping a safe distance from his savage attacks. “If this has anything to do with why you vanished for almost eighteen hours or the red in your hair—”
“Don’t,” Týr snapped, breathing hard. “If you’re testing my temper, you’re going about it the right way.”
He wanted to break down this place with his hands, flatten every damn thing, but that would piss off not only Michael but also the ancient goddess, Gaia. Instead, he leaped up, flipping in the air, his sword coming down in a deadly blaze.
“Shit!” Aethan jumped back, swearing a blue streak. His hand pressed to his abs and the bloody slice forming there. “This is training, not a damn fight to the death,” he snarled. “Let’s talk about what the hell’s eating you before one of us gets killed…” His eyes narrowed, expression suddenly thoughtful.
A look Týr utterly disliked. He suspected the Empyrean knew damn well what was wrong. Aethan lowered his sword, tip pressed to the floor. “Can I help in any way?”
“Nothing’s wrong. Why the fuck would you ask me that? Every fuckin’ thing’s just fucking fine!”
Amusement glimmered in Aethan’s gunmetal gray eyes. “Could be the helluva lot of fucks in that sentence. Look, Týr, I’ve been there, too. So, yeah, I get it.”
Scowling, Týr collapsed on the floor, against the wall, his sword clanging down at his side. He dragged the fingers of both hands through his damp and still lowlighted hair. At the latter thought, his chest constricted.
Aethan dropped down next to him. “The truth is, when we go after the female we want, the one who completes us, it isn’t easy. But it’s worth it.”
Týr bit back a sarcastic retort. “At least you knew Echo was your destined.”
In the process of scrubbing his face with the bottom of his t-shirt, Aethan’s head snapped to him. “What do you mean?” Then his stare lit with understanding. “Hell, that—”
“Sucks? Yeah, a whole fucking lot.”
“And Kira knows this? About only a destined mate being able to summon the obsidian blade?”
“She does.”
Aethan frowned. “There’s something else. Echo mentioned when she first took my weapon that it glowed as if connecting to her—”
“Pointless.” Týr swiped his sweaty brow on his t-shirt sleeve. “Kira used my dagger a year ago to attack that fucker who shot Echo in Hell.” He summoned his dagger, flung it across to the far side of the arena to embed in the wooden sword rack, and then re-summoned it. Lips tightening. “Still mine.”
“Hell,” Aethan muttered.
“I can’t give her up.”
“I understand. ButKirawill be the one hurt if shit happens. Týr, you have to be dead sure before making this commitment for the long haul. Do you recall what Gaia told you when you chose your dagger?”
“No.” Týr gritted his teeth, wishing like hell he could remember, but all that remained was a buzzing in his skull. He banged the back of his head against the wall as if it would dislodge what the ancient goddess had told him eons ago.
Aethan frowned. “I assume she said the same thing to all of us.Your dagger is an embodiment of your one weakness and your ultimate strength. When it fails to return to you, you have found your salvation.”
“That doesn’t help me, does it?”
He didn’t want to hurt Kira. But these hours apart after a fleeting moment of happiness was killing him.
Silence took up space as they both just sat there.
Finally, Aethan rose. “It’s probably time to hit the alleyways.” He picked up the sword Týr had dropped, headed for the far side, and put both weapons away. “You back on patrol?”
“Yeah.” Týr pushed to his feet. Maybe time on the street would give him clarity. But it gutted him that Kira hadn’t sought him out, even after he’d laid it all out for her. He’d never leave her. Didn’t she get that?
Fine, he’d give her the time she wanted. However, if she thought he’d just walk away, she was very much mistaken.
* * *
Kira hunched on her seat, staring at her cell in her hand.
