Perfekt Order (The Ære Saga Book 1) (22 page)

“Cheers.” We clinked bottles and took a
drink, then I tucked into the food. “This is amazing. It’s so
savory. I’m impressed.”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” Tyr
said wryly.

I took another bite. The cheese was the
perfect mixture of tangy and smoky—Gouda was my favorite. “You
should do more of the cooking from now on.”

“I don’t look nearly as good as you do in an
apron. Besides, you like to be in control in the kitchen.” Tyr
leaned over with a lascivious grin. “It’s hot.”

I ducked to hide behind my hair, but Tyr
tucked the strand behind my ear.

“You’re
så förbaskat
beautiful, Mia.”
He let the words linger. When I finally broke eye contact, every
nerve in my body buzzed.

My fingers trembled as I picked up my
sandwich. Tyr did the same, and we chewed in silence, staring at
the waves crashing ten yards away. When we finished eating, I
pulled my knees to my chest and rested my head on Tyr’s shoulder.
He wrapped an arm around me, gently massaging my lower back. I
closed my eyes, trying to commit every detail of this moment to
memory.

“How’s Elsa?” I ventured.

Tyr let out a breath. “She’s having a rough
day.”

“Oh, Tyr.” I circled his waist with my arms
and squeezed. “What happened?”

“I have no idea. She was doing well for a
while.”

“I know. Last week, she had more color in her
cheeks. It almost seemed like she was just sleeping.” I nuzzled
against his chest.

“Yeah.” Tyr rested his chin on the top of my
head. “Her vitals have been volatile since yesterday. Her doctors
don’t know what’s wrong—none of her treatments have changed, and
her internal injuries have been stabilized for weeks. It doesn’t
make any sense.”

“Is there anything you can do?”

“I’m doing everything I can.” Tyr’s agony
came through in his voice. “I just don’t know how much longer
she’ll be able to hold out. Her cell counts are… she’s not doing
great.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “Do you want to
go see her right now? I’ll go with you.”

“No. I went this afternoon. Henrik’s with her
now. I think my energy was actually making her worse. I get pretty
upset when she takes a dive.”

“I’d be exactly the same if anything ever
happened to Jason.” I squeezed Tyr’s waist again and his mouth
brushed the top of my head.

“Just be careful, okay?” Tyr’s lips moved
against my hair.

“Always am,” I promised.

Tyr lifted my chin with a finger and kissed
me softly. When he pulled back, his eyes were considerably lighter.
“Help me find some driftwood. I thought we’d make s’mores. I’ve
never had one before.”

“Do you even know how to make them?”

“Henrik gave me some pretty detailed
instructions.” He rolled his eyes, and I laughed.

“Let me guess—step one, build a fire with
birch strips configured in the perfect teepee shape, covering
exactly four pieces of wadded-up newspaper for kindling
.
Am
I close?”

“Frighteningly so.” Tyr held out a hand to
pull me up. “Help me look for those birch strips, will you?”

“Yes, sir.”

We strolled along the beach, hand in hand,
pausing to pick up pieces of driftwood that looked reasonably dry.
When we’d collected enough to start a small fire, we headed back to
our blanket. Tyr arranged the wood in a small pit and pulled the
lighter out of his back pocket.

“I thought that was the magic light bubble
thing?” I questioned.

“It’s multi-functional.” Tyr flicked the
trigger, but the breeze snuffed the flame. His brow furrowed, and
he tried again. And again. He stuck his tongue out of the corner of
his mouth and bit down, glaring at the lighter.

I let out a giggle.

“This funny to you?” He looked up.

“Yes,” I admitted. Seeing my cool, capable
Hercules bested by a piece of plastic was priceless.

He didn’t swear. Didn’t throw it into the
surf. Instead, in true Tyr fashion, he simply returned to his task,
manipulating the tiny device long after it was obvious the thing
wasn’t going to cooperate. It was a matter of pride at this point,
and I knew things well enough to know he wasn’t backing down. He
might have been the only person on the planet more stubborn than
me.

Though it looked like that lighter had a leg
up on both of us.

“Why don’t you go grab the bag while I work
on this? The marshmallows are in there.” Tyr nodded toward the
blanket.

“Fair enough.” I turned and walked the short
distance to the blanket. By the time I came back, Tyr had managed
to start a small fire.

“How’d you do that? And so fast?” Usually a
fire smoldered for a while before the logs caught. After a lifetime
of camping, I was no pyro-novice.

“You know I’m good with my hands.” Tyr raised
an eyebrow.

I swatted him. “Seriously. There’s no way you
got a fire going that fast.”

“You calling me a liar?” Tyr pushed himself
to his feet and took a step toward me. I paused. It did seem like a
silly thing to lie about.

“Um. No?”

“More conviction, please.” Tyr took another
step, his eyes glinting.

“No. Absolutely not. Nope.” I dropped the
marshmallow-filled bag and started backing up.

“I’m not believing you.” Tyr stepped over the
bag. He was closing the gap.

“I’d never call you a liar. Ever.” I held up
my hands.

“Too late.” Tyr took one more step, and I
bolted down the beach, running in the soft sand. The ocean roared
to my right, and Tyr’s footsteps thundered behind me. Before I knew
it, he’d caught up; his thick arms wrapped around me from behind
and swung me in a circle. When he set me back on my feet, I was
dizzy, lightheaded, and laughing hysterically.

“You are so much trouble,” I said, for the
second time that night.

“You have no idea,” he muttered.

“You keep saying that.”

“Trust me.” Tyr looked down at me,
desperation in his eyes. I realized that he was trying to
communicate something important. His words reverberated through my
head. They were more than a passing comment—they were a pledge. And
a plea. Tyr was laying his soul bare, exposing his deepest wish in
two words.
Trust me.

I blinked up at him, struck by the truth that
had snuck up on me somewhere between our first run and our first
grilled cheese, between the late-night phone calls and the picnic
visits with Elsa, the evenings falling asleep in front of a movie
and the mornings jogging in the forest. Tyr had eased himself into
my life so seamlessly, I couldn’t imagine my world without him in
it.

And I didn’t want to.

In that moment, I made a conscious choice. “I
trust you,” I whispered, marveling at the truth of the words. I put
my hand in Tyr’s and stared up at him. His face broke into a
beautiful smile as he scooped me up and wrapped his arms below my
bottom, so we were eye to eye. My heart thudded.

“Do you really?” Tyr asked.

“I do.”

With that, Tyr shifted me to one arm, and
lifted his hand. He wrapped his fingers around the back of my head
and crushed his mouth to mine, kissing me with a force that sent my
poor heart into overdrive. Blood rushed out of my head on a
breakneck journey south as I wrapped my legs around Tyr’s waist and
held on tight. His palm caressed my bottom, softly at first, but
increasing in pressure as he pulled me closer to him. His mouth
moved to my neck, and he gently sucked his way to the neckline of
my top. This would have been a
really
good night to have
borrowed that deep V-neck in Charlotte’s closet.

“Say it again,” he growled into my neck.

“I trust you,” I whispered.

“Oh, Mia.” Tyr buried his face against my
skin, and my breath caught as I made another choice. I was ready to
show Tyr the depth of my trust. In the most important way I knew
how.

Oh cheese and crackers
. It was an
enormous decision—I’d kissed three boys in my entire life, and I’d
certainly never slept with anyone. These were really deep waters,
and I was sure Tyr had swum in them plenty of times before. But I’d
never felt like this about anyone; there wasn’t anyone else I
wanted to be my first.

Suddenly s’mores were the furthest thing from
my mind.

I lifted Tyr’s face and stared into his eyes.
“Can we go home? To your place, I mean?” I asked.

Tyr watched me levelly, then set me on my
feet, stalked back to the blanket, packed up our picnic, and
snuffed out the fire. The whole circuit took less than a
minute.

He took my hand and walked me to his bike
without a word, placed the helmet on my head and gave me a
determined stare.

“Hop on.”

We pushed the speed limit on the streets of
Arcata, and when Tyr hit the forest he let loose. My arms squeezed
his chest so hard I was afraid he wouldn’t be able to breathe, but
we got to his house in record time, and he lifted me off the bike
with minimal effort. He didn’t put me down until we were inside the
foyer, and from the look in his eyes, letting me stand was just a
formality.

My mind raced.

Tyr flipped on the lights, closed the front
door behind him, and took my coat. He crossed to the hall closet
and removed his own jacket while I fidgeted with the wrists of my
sweater.

Tyr closed the door and turned to me. In five
long strides, he was at my side. He wrapped one arm around me,
pulling my lower back into his waist, while his other hand gathered
my hair into a low ponytail. He tugged gently, and brought his
mouth to my neck. His tongue was hot on my skin, its languid
movement drawing a fiery trail downward. I threw my hands around
him, reaching up to finger the soft hair at the back of his head.
As I did, he licked a slow line up my jaw, then crushed his mouth
against mine. His tongue pushed past my lips, gently moving in a
maddening dance that left me squirming.

And then I heard the voice.

“Tyr! Get outside
right now
!” Freya
pounded on the front door.

“For the love of Odin!” Tyr thundered. He
pulled back just enough to look into my eyes. “Don’t move. That’s
an order.”

“Aye aye.” I saluted breathlessly.

Tyr didn’t take his hand off my waist as he
reached for the door. He wedged it open just enough to poke his
head through, all the while holding me tight against his side.

“What?” he hissed.

“That.” Freya pointed at something just
beyond the driveway.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.
And come back tomorrow. Because as you can see—”

Just then I heard a boom. It sounded like a
clap of thunder let loose nearby. With a flash of light, something
big and furry crashed against an invisible screen at the edge of
the trees. Then it burst through, careening toward the house, and
snarling through bared teeth. Freya dropped to a crouch, as if she
were preparing to jump.

“
Skit!
” Tyr swore. He released his
hold on me so fast I barely had time to gather my footing. He raced
to the door next to the coat closet and entered a code into a
keypad I hadn’t realized was there. The door sprung open. Tyr
ripped out two futuristic handguns and a crossbow. Then he sprinted
out of the house.

“Stay inside, Mia,” he commanded. I stood
inside the front door, too shocked to move.

Tyr launched himself off the porch, flying a
good twenty yards. He met the creature midair, their bodies
entwining in a deadly dance, but instead of dropping to the ground,
they stayed suspended two stories high, a blur of fangs, fur and
fists. Something about the animal seemed familiar, but I didn’t
have time to process the thought because a bluish light emanated
from somewhere between my boyfriend and the beast. It grew brighter
as they struggled—almost like the light fed off their energy. Tyr
grabbed the creature’s ears and wrenched its neck. I heard a
sickening crack, but the animal seemed unaffected. It just snarled
and slammed its head against Tyr’s shoulder.

His crossbow fell to the ground with a clang.
Tyr grabbed for one of his guns, but the beast swatted it away with
one enormous paw, and Freya swore from the porch.

“He’s only got one left,” she muttered.
“Double
skit
.”

“I can help. I’m a good shot. Give me one of
those guns.” I darted for the closet, but Freya ran inside and
grabbed my arm.

“Those guns are not for mortals. This isn’t
something you can help with, Mia. Not yet, anyway.”

Did she have to sound so patronizing? And
what was with the mortal thing? Who taught these people their
English?

“Look, you might be his best friend, or
whatever you are to each other, but you’re not the only one who
cares about him. He needs help. I’m an excellent marksman. Give me
a freaking gun.” Something let out a growl from outside, sending
goosebumps up my arms. “Now, Freya!”

“Sorry, Mia. No.” Freya sprinted out of the
house and waved her hand at the doorway. She turned to the woods
with a gasp as the beast lunged at Tyr. Sure, jumping in the middle
of that fight would have been dumber than using the good scissors
to cut chicken, but did the beauty queen really think I was going
to stand by while the guy who owned my heart was mauled to death by
some wolf on steroids? I ran for the open door, and cried out when
my face struck an invisible surface.
What the…?
Freya looked
back at me, sympathy in her eyes. I shook off the dull ache in my
now-tender nose, and moved for the porch a second time, only to be
stopped again by something I couldn’t see. There was some kind of a
shield filling the doorway, keeping me from getting outside.
Hold on.
Freya had waved her hand. Did she have one of
Henrik’s lighters, too? Did she use it to block me? Was she insane?
Now I was trapped in the house, and the only thing I could do was
watch helplessly while a horrific battle raged outside.