Fall (The Ragnarok Prophesies) (40 page)

Life on the lam wasn’t exactly a luxury condo type of deal.

“Arionna?” Dace said.

“We talked to Dr. Michel today,” I said at the exact same time, watching as Ronan used the key card to open my door.

Fuki raced out and bolted down the stairs.

I shuffled to the side before he could knock me over in his mad dash to Nature’s restroom.

He barely spared me a glance before he darted around the side of the building and out of sight.

“Crap,” I muttered and hurried after him.

“What’s wrong?” Dace asked.

“Fuki took off.” I rounded the building in time to see his tail vanishing into a thicket on the far side of the little field. A small cloud of birds shot into the sky, their wings pumping hard to get them out of the danger zone.

One little blackbird wasn’t fast enough.

Fuki leapt, his jaws closing around the tip of the bird’s wing.

The small bird chirped and tried to flit away from Fuki.

Fuki let him go… right up until the blackbird tried to leap into the air again, anyway. When he tried to fly away, Fuki swatted him back down to the ground.

The bird gave up his flight attempts and hopped across the field.

Fuki yipped, dancing in a circle around the tiny animal.

I wasn’t sure if he was playing with the bird or preparing to eat it.

“He’s not used to being cooped up,” Dace said, his voice soft.

“I know.”

“Buka misses him.’’

The bird chirped loudly, making his discontent clear.

“He misses her, too,” I sighed, watching Fuki chase after the bird. “What are we going to do with him, Dace? He wasn’t meant to be domesticated. He needs room to run and play and be a wolf.”

“I know, but he doesn’t have that option now. He’ll be okay.”

“I hope so,” I said.

Heavy footsteps sounded behind me.

Ronan rounded the corner.

“He’s over here,” I told him, pointing toward the wolf.

Ronan’s eyes narrowed, a look of disgust crossing his face when he caught sight of the little wolf chasing after the bird. He didn’t comment or chastise Fuki, though. He merely crossed the field toward him.

Fuki glanced up when Ronan’s shadow passed over him.

“Leave the bird alone.”

Fuki chuffed, still dancing around the frightened animal.

The bird squawked his fear.

“Enough, Fuki,” Ronan said, stepping between the wolf and the blackbird.

Fuki whined, the sound uncertain, but he stopped and sat back on his haunches.

Ronan knelt down and picked up the wounded animal. He murmured something, but I couldn’t hear what. Whatever it was seemed to calm to the bird. It stopped chirping, not even struggling in Ronan’s hands.

Ronan said something else, glancing down at Fuki.

Fuki lowered himself to the ground with another small whine.

Ronan ran a hand over the bird’s wing, checking for breaks, before opening his hands and letting it go. Fuki stared forlornly up as the little bird hovered in the air above Ronan’s head, and then took off, flying after its flock.

Ronan watched it for a minute, before reaching down to pat Fuki’s head. “Good boy.”

Fuki thumped his tail on the ground, and then trotted away to sniff at a clump of mud. Ronan stepped back, keeping a watchful eye on the wolf as the animal hiked his leg and peed on the dirt clod.

“Wow.” I shook my head, impressed by Ronan’s patience with Fuki.

“What?” Dace asked.

“Fuki caught a bird, and Ronan rescued it.”

“Oh.” A pause. “I bet Ronan loved doing that.” Dace sounded pleased by the prospect of Fuki ruining Ronan’s day.

“Dace, behave.”

“Not likely,” he snorted.

“Ronan isn’t that bad.”

“Oh?” Dace said, his disbelief coming through loud and clear.

“He’s been… very helpful.” I sounded like my dad, but it was true.

Ronan kept surprising me. Just when I thought I’d gotten to know him a little, he did something totally unexpected, like rescue a blackbird from Fuki or stick up for Dace even though he didn’t like him. The more time I spent around Ronan though, the more I began to understand how well he and Dani had complimented one another. He’d kept her grounded, and she’d kept him human.

It wasn’t fair that Sköll and Hati had taken her from him.

“Oh?” Dace said again.

I rolled my eyes at his territorial tone. “I like him, Dace. He’s a good guy who got dealt a crappy hand like the rest of us. You should cut him some slack. He’s earned it.”

“I know.” Dace sighed into the phone. “But making his life miserable is easier than admitting the truth.”

“What truth?” I frowned.

“That I’m jealous as hell he’s with you right now and I’m not.”

“It’s not like that.” Ronan would never be more than an odd, infuriating, and actually kind of decent friend to me. I highly doubted he ever considered trying to be more than that. Even if Dace and I were struggling, Ronan still knew how I felt about Dace.

Dace had nothing to be jealous about.

“I know,” Dace said. “I trust you. And, I’ll never admit it to him, but I trust him with you. I just wish it was me there with you. Do―hell,” he cursed, “will you ever be able to forgive me?”

I wanted to tell him I’d already forgiven him. That I’d never been mad at him. But… that wasn’t true.

“You hurt me,” I whispered.

“I know I did.”

I heard the shame in his voice, but I didn’t try to soothe him.

“Watching you die… knowing that might happen again… I thought, no, I
know
I can’t face that again. But watching you get in Ronan’s car and drive away, knowing I put that look on your face, that I hurt you like that… I don’t want to be the person you saw me becoming either, Arionna.”

He watched me leave? I hadn’t known that.

“I know that too,” I whispered, slipping back around the side of the building for a little privacy. I leaned back against the side of the wall, and stared up.

“Is there still a chance for us?”

Was there?

“I don’t know.” Saying that out loud hurt. A lot. But Ronan was right. I might not have asked for the responsibility given to me by Odin, but protecting our friends was my responsibility and I couldn’t forget that because Dace had. Chelle and Beth, Ronan and the wolves, even Dace’s shifters deserved more than that from one of us at least. If Dace couldn’t put them first, I had to. Everything else, including our relationship, couldn’t take priority anymore.

“Do―do you still love me?” Dace asked.

I closed my eyes, the defeat in his voice almost enough to crack me wide open. “You know I do.”

“Then what’s the problem? Talk to me, please.”

“You’re haunting me,” I admitted, scuffing the toe of my shoe against the cracked pavement beneath my feet. “I see you everywhere. I think about you all the time. I can’t sleep because you aren’t here, Dace, but…” I didn’t know how to explain the way I felt. The way it hurt when he forced me to walk away, and the defeat when he didn’t try to stop me. The constant ache I felt since I’d left, and the agony of completely falling apart and then having to put myself back together piece by piece. And the awful realization that I had to let him go because I had to look out for the people who needed
him
, the ones he’d stopped thinking about because of me.

How do you explain the way it feels to lose yourself?

How do you describe how weak and cowardly you feel because the person who’s supposed to help you, the one who’s supposed to believe in you, and make you feel strong and confident… just didn’t? I needed Dace to let me in, to let me help him, but he hadn’t. He gave up on himself, and he gave up on me, too.

“I don’t know how to keep fighting for you when you won’t even fight for yourself,” I whispered. My throat ached, unshed tears threatening to choke me. I blinked rapidly, trying to bring the pavement back into focus. I didn’t want to cry anymore.

“You’re haunting me, too,” he said. “Every time I close my eyes, I see you. I see that look on your face when I told you to leave, and I remember I put it there.
I
did that to you, and I’m so fucking sorry.” His voice broke. “That I made you think, for even a minute, that I didn’t want you here… I’m sorry, Arionna. I’m so damn sorry.”

I sniffled.

“I know I messed up, but I’m trying to fix it. I promise you, I am,” he whispered.

I believed him.

How could I not when every beat of my heart still whispered his name?

“I know you are.” I took a deep breath. “But I don’t know if it’s enough anymore, Dace.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t give up on me, love. Please.”

“I’m not,” I said, “I’m not giving up, but I can’t do this right now.
We
can’t do this right now. Too many people are counting on us. We can’t keep being selfish. It’s not fair.”

I expected him to argue with me, maybe because he always argued with me, but he didn’t. “You’re right,” he said, regretfully. “I know you’re right. But I don’t want this to be over, love.”

“Me either,” I whispered. “I just need time.”

Dace sighed.

The sun dipped below the horizon, giving in to the encroaching dark.

“How did things go with Dr. Michel?” he asked.

I took a breath, more grateful for the change of subject than I could say. “He promised to see if he could find anything helpful,” I said, pushing off from the wall to pace around. I felt restless and tired at once, as if my conversation with Dace had shaken loose a wall of emotion I needed to walk off. “He told me a little bit about how he knew you. I’m sorry, Dace.”

Dace grunted, but didn’t seem surprised.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I couldn’t help but ask. I circled back around the building. Fuki still wandered around, marking whichever spot came into focus.

“I didn’t even know where to begin,” Dace said. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I get it.” I looked at Ronan again, remembering what he’d said, and how I never really talked about losing my mom either. “Sometimes, it’s easier not to talk about things.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“I wish I’d known though.” I hesitated to say anything more, but couldn’t forget how much Dr. Michel seemed to care about Dace, or how guilty Dace sounded. “He doesn’t blame you for leaving and never looking back.”

Dace didn’t say anything.

“Will you ever get in touch with him?”

“Maybe, someday.” Dace cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable.

“He’d like that,” I said, and then let the subject go. It wasn’t my place to tell Dace what to do about Dr. Michel. When he was ready, he would work it out himself.

“So… Idun,” he said a few heartbeats later.

“Yeah,” I said, “Idun.” I still couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that she might really be out there somewhere. It was one thing to accept who we were and Odin’s role in our lives. That happened so long ago the entire world believed Odin to be little more than a myth. To realize a flesh and blood Norse goddess still walked the earth though? Completely different story.

“Be careful, love,” Dace cautioned, his voice full of worry. “You might be walking into a trap.”

“I know, and I will be careful,” I promised. As careful as I could be, anyway.

“Can I―Do you mind if I call you later?”

“I’d like that.”

“That’s good,” he murmured, his voice rough and hopeful.

My heart fluttered a little.

I searched for something else to say, not ready to hang up the phone. I wanted to tell Dace I loved him, but I didn’t feel like I had a right to say it yet. It didn’t seem fair to him when saying it wouldn’t change the fact that I needed time to work through our relationship and everything that went wrong between us.

“I’m not giving up on us,” he whispered. “No matter how long it takes, I will prove to you that I can be what you need, and that we belong together.”

“Dace, I―” I floundered, unable to find an adequate response.

“Shh. You don’t have to say anything. Just take care of yourself, and come back to me when you’re ready.” He paused a moment. “I love you, and I’ll wait for you. Forever if that’s what it takes.”

He hung up before I could respond, leaving me staring down at the phone in my hand as another of the ice shards around my heart cracked and fell away.