“I’m confused,” the giant shifted against the bars. “I thought you were already together. Youarecarrying his child, after all. And the way he reacted to your kidnapping, it seemed like he was quite taken with you.”
She let the silk slip between her fingers as she remembered the way he looked at her that day in the cell. The way he called herStiarnaand how her toes curled into her flats when he dug his nose into her neck, the way his husky scent clung to her for days after like a taunting ghost. How she wanted nothing more than to rub her fingers over his lips and taste the salt in his words that seemed to burn through her like an open wound.
“It was all an accident,” she admitted. “Our meeting, what’s inside me, our entire relationship. Hel, he even killed my father and my sisters before we met. It’s all been very fast, and my logic is trying to keep up with my intuition. My head says I’m being foolish while my gut says this is right. I just don’t know which to listen to.” And every day that passed was less time she had to figure it out.
The giant mulled on her words for a moment before opening his mouth again. “Vali nearly slaughtered my house when he saw you in chains, and I was genuinely afraid of his wrath. This tells me he is the kind of man who is more comfortable showing his love through protecting than physical affection. Very common in us violent types, but he cares for you nonetheless.”
Ailsa shrugged one shoulder and folded the shirt over a crossed arm. “I’m just afraid that this… child is the only reason for our connection. That when I no longer carry it, he will not be interested in me anymore.”
Thrym shook his head in contempt. “Give him the shirt, Ailsa. If he rejects it, you will be hurt. But if you do nothing and never find out how he truly feels in return, you will be alone. And loneliness is much worse.”
She nodded solemnly before breaking her glum with a small grin. “Aye. I would say you’re right about that. Thank you, Thrym. For a giant who kidnapped and threatened to crush me, you aren’t so bad.”
“The Jotun are completely misunderstood creatures.” He winked. “Do you need anything else for your garment?”
She looked over the shirt with a disappointed frown. “No, I believe it is quite past the point of fixing. But I wouldn’t mind playing a round or two to pass the time.”
“Clean up your cell and give the extra scraps of fabric to my guards. I’ll bring down some ale so we can all have a few rounds,” he said.
Ailsa did as he asked, later finding herself sitting with her knees against the bars and sliding cards beneath the grate. Thrym slipped her a cup of golden ale through the small window used for her dining tray.
“All right, no more gambling,” she said as she sorted the deck. “Just bragging rights and the eternal embarrassment of losing your own game to a human.”
“Ailsa?”
A hoarse voice snuck through the dungeon, stilling her hands. She looked toward the stairwell to see Vali, his cloak caked in mud and dripping rainwater. His dark hair shone like spilled ink, wet from the storm pouring outside the dungeon’s vented windows. It waved messily down the back of his neck, flipping around each side to hug his nape. His brow arched with interest as he watched her shuffle the deck.
She cleared her throat of the girlish squeal forming there. “Well, look who finally decided to come back from Asgard.”
Thrym and the other guard were already standing, sensing the game had ended before it even began. Vali did not answer, only tossed his cloak to the nearest guard, the key to her cell in his right hand.
“The hammer is in the inside pocket,” he murmured to Thrym as the giant crossed his path. When the Jotun found what they were looking for, the chieftain ordered them to clear the lower floor. But not before offering her an encouraging wink.
Then, they were alone.
“What took you so long?” she asked, crossing her arms as he unlocked the cell. The hinges groaned from being used for the first time in four days.
“I’m sorry,” he said wearily. “I had no horse and had to travel the whole way on foot. Then the river flooded when I arrived in Jotunheim, and I had to hide in a tree until it receded. I think I’ve slept a whole three hours in the past two days.” He looked exhausted. His golden eyes were lined with deep shadows, the whites now an irritated red. He smiled at her anyway.
She gave him a tight nod. “Well, I suppose that is a sufficient excuse to be late.”
“Not that you missed me much with all the company you seemed to have.” His statement came out like a growl as his eyes shifted toward the stairwell.
“I was gambling for supplies.” She stepped an inch closer to him, smelling rain on his skin. Gods, his scent made something shake inside her, a sleeping piece of her waking at the call of his presence. “I had a project I’ve been working on, and the Jotun are quite generous when it comes to card games.”
“Oh?” he matched her step. “And what have you been so diligently working on?”
“A shirt,” she said. Words suddenly seemed too complicated to file into full sentences. “For you. For the one you tore apart. For me.”
She noticed his cheek concave as he bit the inside of his mouth. “And where is this shirt? You made. For me.”
Ailsa’s composure finally crumbled with misery. Why did she even mention the ugly thing? “You must promise not to laugh. My father attempted to domesticate me, but he was a poor tutor when it came to tailoring.”
He placed a hand over his chest and said, “Cross my heart.”
She shot him a glare before pulling the shirt out from beneath her pillow. She could hardly look at him as he unfolded the shiny material and held it against his body, evaluating the shirt on his frame.
“Is this silk?” he asked.