CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
BRIN
Brin hadn’t felt like this in a long time. His eyes trailed around the table, landing on Eirik and Vidar, on the workers who they’d insisted join them for dinner after their help, and finally on Munin where she steadily ate the food on her plate. While they all mostly had meat and various vegetables, Munin mostly focused on the fruits and nuts on her plate. Every now and then she picked at some of the meat, but she avoided all sorts of bird, preferring to feast on the beef and pork instead. He couldn’t blame her when she sported her own wings. Because of that, he’d elected to avoid the same meats out of respect. It felt proper when sitting at a feast with Munin.
Still, his eyes taking in everyone as he pulled pieces of meat from the ribs on his plate, he couldn’t help feeling as if they were a family of sorts. A dysfunctional one, sure, but what family wasn’t. In his time, his own brother had slept with another man’s wife, lost a finger because of it, and then turned around and did it again. Sometimes, dysfunction was just a part of life.
In Valhalla, though all the souls were warriors, it grew boring far too often. Hearing each other’s tales of victory and battle got old after you’d heard the same stories in a timeless realm. What Brin wouldn’t have given for someone to speak something new.
And then Munin had arrived in Valhalla, and he’d been drawn to her immediately.
When she’d walked into Valhalla, glorious and strong, he’d gone to her, feeling her need, wanting to be a part of that. When she’d reached out to him despite not knowing anything about him, he’d been thrilled. There was his adventure. Even if at the end of it all he was returned to Valhalla, the memories of sitting with Munin, of the world she’d brought him to, would keep him sane. The thought of her would keep him grounded, and perhaps, one day, she’d visit him just the same.
Eirik yawned where he sat, clear exhaustion in his eyes after such a long day. “I think I’m going to have to pass on the practice session tonight. I can hardly keep my eyes open after that meal.”
Muni tilted her head. “It’s wiser for you to get your rest. We can attempt a power exchange tomorrow with all four of us.”
When she looked toward Vidar, he shrugged. “I find I’m also exhausted.”
“From what?” Brin grumbled. “Complaining?”
Vidar shot him a look, but Muni interrupted any retort. “I understand, Vidar. Get your rest.” When she looked toward Brin, he puffed up his chest.
“I’m not tired, Lady Raven, if you’d like to try with just the two of us.”
Brin tried his hardest to keep the hopefulness from his voice. Any time alone with Munin would be time well spent, but if she was tired, he’d immediately back down and allow her rest. However, the soft smile that pulled at her lips had something inside him flipping in anticipation.
“I find I’m not tired yet either. Very well, Brin. We’ll see what we can learn.”
Brin immediately pushed away his plate and stood. Moving around the table to just beside Muni, he offered his hand to her. He knew she was finished because she’d stopped eating a few minutes prior, her plate delicately clean as if she had hardly eaten at all. He knew different, having watched her put away food quickly and demurely. He liked that she didn’t eat like a dainty deer. Women needed their strength just as men did.
When she slipped her hand into his, warmth enclosing their joined fingers, he smiled. “Allow me, Lady Raven,” he purred.
And leaving the others to finish their meal and retire, Brin disappeared with Odin’s Spy.
He knew he’d give her all his secrets. All she had to do was ask.