Free Arctic Dawn (The Norse Chronicles Book 2) by Karissa Laurel Page A

to subject thunder, rain, and lightning to his will didn’t need much pity.
    “I have to do this thing for Baldur,” he said. “My vows—”
    “I know,” I said. “So, how about we compromise?”
    Thorin raised an eyebrow as if to say, “Oh? And how does that work?”
    “I’m going to cooperate with you. No, don’t give me that look. I mean it. Whatever you want us to do next, I’ll do it, and I won’t give you a hard time. In return, I expect you to make a complete commitment to helping me find Skyla.”
    Thorin’s lips thinned. “I said I would. I don’t go back on my word.”
    “All right. Then we have an understanding.”
    Thorin leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Have you had any dreams about this? You know… premonitions like the one you had about your brother’s death? Have you had some forewarning about Nina and Baldur or Skyla that you’ve been holding back because you think it will protect someone?”
    I huffed and waved a hand, dismissing his question. “I’m not Zoltar the fortune-telling machine. It doesn’t work that way. I’ve had some dreams, but there’s no context. They don’t make sense.”
    “Tell me about it?” Thorin took my hand.
    Maybe he meant it as a sympathetic gesture, but my fingers burned against his. Could he feel it, or was it all in my head? I hesitated, expecting one of his thoughts or memories to overcome me, but the moment passed, and my awareness remained firmly in the present. What does that mean?
    To avoid invading Tre and Nikka’s thoughts, I had shunned prolonged physical contact. When Tre and I trained together, I focused on his instruction and my technique and refused to dwell on the occasional unwelcome mental image. At most, I saw flashes of things mostly likely inspired by Tre’s experience as a cop. I never lingered on those visions or made opportunities to explore further.
    I was in no way prepared to go spelunking in Thorin’s head. For whatever reason, the contents swirling through his gray matter remained locked behind his skull. And for that, I was immensely grateful.
    I swallowed and cleared my throat. “I, uh, there were apples.” I told Thorin the rest, the bit about the orchard and the fire and how it had burned my hand.
    “It sounds a little like Idun’s orchard,” Thorin said.
    “I thought so too.” When he quirked an eyebrow, I shrugged. “What? My research assistant is missing, and I had some time on my hands. Would you have preferred that I stick my head in the sand?”
    Thorin grinned. “That makes for an interesting mental image.”
    “Not helpful.” I poked his shoulder. “Do you have any idea what it means? It makes no sense to me.”
    Thorin shook his head. “I don’t know what it means either, but I assume we’ll find out soon enough.”
    For a moment, Thorin and I stood in silence, my hand still gripped in his, but I blinked, and the moment passed. I pulled loose from his hold and backed away, eager to breathe air that didn’t smell like him. When I opened the bathroom door, Thorin took my hint and strode out to the living room.
    I followed him out and found that Baldur and Val had changed into a matching set of Commando Ken outfits. They wore black cargo pants, black T-shirts, and black caps—possibly in an attempt to blend into the darkness outside. I had failed to notice before, but Thorin was dressed in similar attire.
    “Here.” Thorin grabbed another black T-shirt from the kitchen counter and shoved it at me. “Put this on and meet us out front at the truck.”
    I snatched the shirt and marched into the bathroom. The fabric had molded to every plane and angle of the men’s physiques, but if I knotted the hem around my hips, it looked slightly less like a trash bag on me. I braided my hair and pulled up the hood of my black sweatshirt. “Good as it’s going to get,” I said to the mirror. My reflection didn’t disagree, so I turned off the lights and hurried to catch up with the guys.

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