Free Perfekt Control (The Ære Saga Book 2) by S.T. Bende Page A

she
finished sashaying around the clover-strewn path and made it to us,
she stood at least a whole foot taller than me.
    What I ask is for the ground to swallow me
whole, and what I get is an honest-to-goodness fairy? Whoever governs this realm has a seriously cruel sense of
humor.
    “Henrik, darling. It’s been far too long
since you’ve paid me a little… visit.” Finnea twirled a lavender
curl with one finger as she walked. When she got to us, she reached
out to put her free hand on Henrik’s bicep. Since we were still
only standing a foot apart, it could have been an accident that
Finnea’s long fingernail speared my arm as she reached for
Henrik’s. But judging by the way she sneered at me, it probably
wasn’t. Wench . That hurt.
    “You brought a girl ? To our spot?” Finnea looked down her aquiline nose in disgust. Her steely
green eyes seethed distaste, and if the way she flared her delicate
nostrils was any indication, I’d have said she wasn’t my biggest
fan.
    Since my face was level with a pair of barely
contained boobs I’d have given my eyeteeth for, and the flesh on my
arm was slightly tender from the jab she’d inflicted, the feeling
was just the slightest bit mutual.
    Our spot? Was Finnea Henrik’s… back
the Bifrost up. Did Henrik have a secret girlfriend? No wonder he
hadn’t kissed me back. Oh, gods. Could this day get any
worse?
    Henrik’s shoulders tensed, and he shifted his
weight. Everything about him screamed “uncomfortable,” but he
reached out to pull Finnea into a hug. A welcoming hug.
    What the Helheim had become of my life?
    “Finnea, this is Brynn. We work together.”
His fingers rested lightly on the fairy’s forearm, and a lead
balloon landed in my stomach. We work together ? We shared a
house, a charge, and an entire lifetime of memories, but all we did
was work together ?
    I clenched my jaw so hard it popped in
protest.
    “You only work with her?” Finnea
managed to inject so much disdain in the last word, it was all I
could do not to stick my tongue out at her. As Finnea glared at
Henrik, he glanced at me. There was none of the usual affection in
his eyes, and not so much as a hint of the mortifying moment we’d
just shared. His neutral face was the picture of practiced
calm.
    But his right eye twitched.
    Whatever. I’d just decided to bolt back to
the Bifrost when Finnea turned to examine her nails, her
self-satisfied smirk reflecting off the pond. The minute her gaze
left Henrik, his expression shifted and morphed into a mask of
remorse. I blinked back tears that were so not invited to
this party, and Henrik shook his head. He mouthed the word please , and glanced down at his bracelet. What did that even
mean? Henrik usually made sense. He was predictable and steadfast
and logical, and above all else, consistent. In battle and in life,
his actions aligned with whichever strategy would yield the most
favorable outcome.
    So what the Helheim was he doing dissing me
for this… this… fairy ?
    Before I could wrap my head around the
nightmare that was my day, Finnea turned around and Henrik became
the picture of apathy once again. Well, not apathy, exactly. More
like ice king. The expression he gave me was firmly on the jotun
side of frosty. He ran his hands up Finnea’s bare arms and let his
eyes linger on those unfairly oversized boobs. “Good to see you
again, Nea-Nea,” he murmured.
    Nea-Nea? The black box of pent-up
emotion wanted to explode in my chest. So they did have a
past. Or maybe a present. Mia’s birthday cake threatened to make a
violent and unsightly return. Don’t be sick, don’t be sick.
Don’t let the stupid fairy know she’s winning.
    Finnea’s existence wasn’t a surprise; Henrik
had been going to see an älva for years—long before I’d
joined Tyr’s team, and on one occasion right after I signed on as
Tyr’s second. I’d thought the fairy was his dust supplier—a
benevolent drug dealer who sprinkled magic fairy dust on