Perfekt Control (The Ære Saga Book 2)
Page 24
For all our sakes, I hoped Tyr proposed soon. Like, yesterday, soon.
“Elsa? Are we still doing this?” Forse interrupted my derailed train of thought.
“Yes. Sorry. I’m really distracted today.”
Forse chuckled. “Am I that boring on the inside?”
“Quite the opposite. You’re positively brilliant on the inside.” He was. His entire being was filled with a striking golden light. It was a testament to a life lived with ære—honor.
“You flatter me, hjärtat. Now get to work.”
“Yes, sir.” I zeroed in on the glowing light at the base of Forse’s spine. Mortals called the pulsing markers along the spine chakras, but Asgardians knew them as energy centers. These tiny orbs contained a blueprint of Forse’s past, and predicted the choices of his future. Each represented a different function—for example, Forse’s first center, the one at the base of his spine, permeated a clear white light. It made sense that the center reflecting his family of origin would be so pure—Forse’s dad, Balder, was the God of Light, and his mom, Nanna, was the Goddess of Warmth—the immortal embodiment of maternal love. Forse’s childhood had been uncharacteristically secure for an Asgardian, and he’d maintained a close relationship with his parents and his brother once he took his own title.
“Your first center’s clear—no blocks there. How are your parents?” I asked.
“They’re good. Mom wants you to come for dinner the next time we’re in Asgard. She looked at those pictures I sent her of you with Mia—she’s convinced you’re not eating enough, and she wants to fatten you up.” I could hear Forse’s smile, even with my eyes closed.
“I love your mom.” I grinned back, then furrowed my brow as I analyzed the next two orbs. “Your second center’s clear, and your third center is gorgeous—you really know where you fit in the world, don’t you?”
Forse sighed. “It’s the blessing and the curse of being of Asgard—when Odin gifts you a title, you kind of have to stick with it.”
“Tell me about it,” I murmured. “Fourth center is . . . hmm.”
“What?” Forse asked.
“There’s something in your love center—a little speck that’s popping against the gold. Would you mind if I went in deeper?” Asking permission was a requisite of healing; I assumed the rules were the same for unifying. A god’s spirit was uniquely theirs, after all.
“You do what you have to do,” Forse agreed. But the speck grew bigger as he spoke. Interesting.
“Okay.” I took a breath and pushed my energy against Forse’s, making my way through the waves of gold surrounding his heart until I neared the speck. This close to the core of the love center, the energy was a muddied brown. That’s strange. I pressed closer, and for the first time I felt a resistance. With another breath, I ploughed forward. Forse’s energy pushed back, rejecting my advances. I squared my shoulders and tried again, and this time the energy parted to let me though. The moment I caught sight of the iron wall surrounding the center’s core, the brown energy closed ranks and pushed me back, forcibly ejecting me from the justice god’s energy field.
“Elsa? Are you all right?” Forse’s hand reached out to steady me. My eyes flew open. The sudden transition had thrown me off balance. Forse’s fingers squeezed my shoulder, and I fixated on the way the thick muscles of his forearms flexed as he pulled me back up. “Why don’t you lie down for a bit?”
“I’m fine.” I tore my eyes away from Forse’s arms and studied his face. “What happened? You pushed me out.”
“I . . . uh . . .”
Forse’s body language spoke volumes. His shoulders were tense, his fists clenched. Everything about him screamed run.
“Hey.” I reached up and placed my hand over his heart. It pounded against my palm in a frenetic rhythm, its anxious beat a stark contrast to the soothing snowfall outside the window. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pressured you. You don’t have to talk about it, whatever it is.”
“I want to help, Elsa, it’s just—”
A whirl of violet-blue eyes and vanilla perfume interrupted Forse’s explanation. My brother’s girlfriend threw open the front door and burst into my living room, her normally sleek hair frizzing beneath a light layer of snowflakes.
“Hei, Mia. Is everything okay?” My hand fell from Forse’s heart as I moved to her side.
“Not exactly.” She finger-combed her hair into submission.
“What’s going on?” Forse asked.
“Well, first of all, it’s snowing again. We live in Arcata, for Pete’s sake. If I’d wanted to walk to class in the snow, I would have stayed on the East Coast for college.” Mia shook her head. “But more importantly, Tyr wants to see Forse back at his place right away. I figured I’d find him here.”
“Am I that predictable?” Forse asked.
“Yes.” Mia nodded. “Elsa, you’d better come, too. Tyr was doing the jaw-clench thing. Whatever it is that’s got his boxer-briefs in a twist, it’s probably not good.”
Forse raised an eyebrow at me, and I shrugged. We’d had a string of calm months since we got Freya back from Helheim. We were about due for a crisis.
“Let’s go.” Forse crossed to the hooks by the entry and helped me into my jacket. He tugged his sweater over his head and opened the front door. Mia filed through, and I followed suit. As we walked across the forest to my brother’s house, I snuck a glance at the god clenching his fists beside me.
Something told me it wasn’t Tyr’s summons that had him on edge. What was Forse Styrke hiding behind that iron wall?
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