Perfekt Order (The Ære Saga Book 1)

by S. T. Bende

  I moved closer and put my hand on his back. His muscles were knotted under my touch, and my gut tugged as I thought about everything he’d experienced. From losing his parents to the childhood pet he’d asked to keep alive, to bearing responsibility for the security of the entire universe, Tyr had shouldered more in his lifetime than I could possibly fathom. It was heartbreaking.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  “For what?” Tyr kept working.

  “For everything you’ve been through. Losing your parents. Fighting for Elsa. Being betrayed by Fenrir. Protecting your realm. All of it. I can’t imagine how hard it’s been. I’m sorry.”

  “I chose this life.” Tyr shrugged. “I knew what was involved.”

  “But you were born into your title. Right?”

  “I came into it through my parents when they adopted me, yes. But I could have walked away. It’s happened before. Vanaheim is filled with birthright titleds who passed on their posts. I knew what being God of War would entail once I came of age and the job was explained to me, and I stayed on to take it. I own that choice, so don’t feel sorry for me. Feel sorry for the gods who died looking out for me.”

  Tyr reached for a long pair of tweezers and continued his operation. I stood just behind him, my view slightly obstructed. Since he was doing fine without me, I rubbed his back softly. “Are you talking about your parents?”

  “My parents,” he confirmed. “And my bodyguards.”

  “Henrik’s not dead.”

  “No. But the four guards I had before him are.” Tyr didn’t look up.

  “Oh. Oh, Tyr.” I rested my cheek on his shoulder blade. “I’m so sorry.”

  “The only thing they did wrong was choose to work for me. It’s why I turned Henrik down for so long when he applied for the job. But he’s the best at what he does, and Odin finally overruled my objection. I’ve had more hits on my life than any other god. Being involved with me is suicide.”

  “Are we still talking about your bodyguards?”

  Tyr put his tools down and turned to face me. His normally stoic eyes looked moist. Too moist.

  Was he going to cry?

  “Immortal beings have died because of their association with me. I’m terrified… terrified that they’ll kill you, too.”

  “Fenrir’s not going to get me.” I lifted his chin with my finger. “You’re going to get that rope and trap him, remember?”

  “Fenrir’s just the beginning. I have enemies you can’t even imagine. Serpents, and dragons, and an eight-legged horse with a manic crazy streak—a legion of demons that would do anything to hurt me. Once they get wind of you, you’ll be a sitting duck. And the fact that you’re human…” Tyr rubbed his eyes and the moisture disappeared. “You’re so easily dispensable.”

  “You really think I’m that helpless?”

  “Against the monsters of the underworlds, yes. You want to know why I didn’t ask you out the night we met? Because regardless of what I wanted, you deserved to be protected. Walking away was the best way to make sure you were safe.”

  “So what happened? Why did you change your mind?” My voice broke. Some part of me was afraid that if I asked, he’d change his mind right back.

  “My birth father slaughtered a village of light elves, and I decided if I couldn’t protect the realms’ most innocent creatures from a monster that dark, then I could at least protect you. But the more time I spent with you, the guiltier I felt for bringing you into the skit that is my normal. So I backed off again. I couldn’t decide what was better for you—being without my protection, or being without my baggage.”

  I blinked. “What did you say?”

  “I wanted to protect you. I wasn’t there when the elves were attacked, and look what happened. Seemed like keeping you close was the only way to make sure you were safe.”

  “No.” I paused. “The other thing.”

  “Oh. My birth father slaughtered an entire village of light elves.”

  “Oh my God, Tyr. So he’s the ‘crooked’ part of your family tree you alluded to?” I ventured.

  “Yes. My parents are dead. Fenrir killed them. But they adopted me when I was a baby. My birth father is still alive.” Tyr paused. When he spoke again, his gaze didn’t quite meet mine. “Remember when I told you I wasn’t pure Asgardian? I’m a halfling. My birth father is a giant. And he’s not a great guy.”

  “Oh.” Oh.

  “My parents, the ones who raised me as Elsa’s brother, they were some of the kindest beings I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing. But from a genetic standpoint, I’m half monster. I’ve spent the better part of my existence fighting against my instincts so I can live up to my parents’ hopes for me. But if you had any idea what I was born to be—” Tyr broke off. He turned to face the table and went to work on the bear.

  I touched Tyr’s back. His muscles felt like smooth stones, but his anger was so palpable the tremors radiated against my fingertips. I kept my voice soft as I spoke.

  “My pastor gave a beautiful sermon right before I left for college and it stuck with me; not only because it focused on one of my favorite verses, but because it felt like I was meant to hear that specific message on that particular day. Now I understand why.” I squeezed Tyr’s shoulder lightly. “We have agency, Tyr. We’re not destined to be what we observe; we can become what we believe. I know you were born to be exactly who you are right now—protector of your realm; defender of creatures who are weaker than you; the guy who loves his friends and sister with a loyalty very few people possess. No matter what you think about yourself, you have a kindness that I find sexy as all get-out. Your parents—your real parents—raised one heck of a man. And I’m proud to know him.”

  “Fenrir and I aren’t that different. We’re both born of monsters. Both raised to be better than our nature would have us be. But my love wasn’t strong enough to overcome Fenrir’s darkness. Who’s to say my parents’ love was enough to overcome mine? What would happen if you were the one at my side when I lost it?” Tyr kept his hands on the operating table. His shoulders shook.

  “I’m willing to take that chance.”

  “But you’re not safe with me, Mia.” Tyr whipped around, with pleading eyes.

  “That’s because you guys keep locking me in places whenever something bad happens. You said it yourself—I’m a lot tougher than I look. You might as well teach me how to channel it.”

  “How?” Tyr whispered.

  “Stop treating me like I’m helpless. Let me use one of your super space guns the next time something goes down. Teach me your uber-self defense. Give me the chance to be a part of your life, instead of just watching you live it from inside a glass case.”

  Tyr stared at me. “Is that how you feel? Like I don’t let you into my life?”

  “Yes. I get that you’re trying to protect me, but I’ve never wanted to be that girl who hid behind a man when things got tough. Those girls didn’t go into Super G.”

  The corner of Tyr’s mouth turned up. “I see.”

  Sensing the opening, I pressed on. “I’m not saying throw me to the wolf and cross your fingers. I’m just saying if you gave me the tools, you might be surprised at what I could do.”

  Tyr’s voice cracked. “That’s scary for me.”

  “I know.” I swept my hand around the garage. “But this is scary for me. Nothing about any of this is familiar, or normal, or even remotely logical. And in case you hadn’t noticed, I really like logic.”

  “I know you do.” Tyr cupped my cheek with his palm. “You win. We’ll do some combat training tomorrow. Even though I really don’t like the idea of you fighting anyone, I don’t want you to feel like I’m shutting you out of my life.”

  I brought my hand up to meet his. “I’m not going anywhere. And nothing’s going to hurt me, so long as you give me the tools I need to take care of myself. You can stop worrying.”

  Tyr’s eyes met mine with a wistful smile. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop worrying abo
ut you. But I can promise I’ll never stop fighting to make sure you’re safe. And I promise when Fenrir’s captured, I’ll take you away from all this.”

  “Like on a vacation?” My face broke into a grin—that meant Tyr wasn’t going to catch the first rainbow bridge back to Asgard when the whole Fenrir situation was over. We could actually enjoy normal couple time together… even if we were far from a normal couple.

  “Anywhere you want. Just the two of us,” Tyr vowed.

  I stood on my toes, kissed his bottom lip, and turned him around to face the sleeping beast.

  “Get the nerves and let’s finish this,” I instructed. “Everything is going to be just fine. You’ll see.”

  Tyr picked up the scalpel. He winked over his shoulder before he made his next cut. “Good thing you’re always right.”

  ****

  A little more than an hour later, I sat in Tyr’s kitchen, staring at a jar containing nine live bear nerves. Somewhere in the forest behind Tyr’s house, a bear was waking up, wondering why its right shoulder felt just a little bit lighter.

  The bear would never know what happened to it. Before Tyr had carried the creature back to the forest, he’d wiped its memory clean.

  He’d wiped its memory clean.

  Tyr had held a hand over the bear’s head, mumbled something I didn’t understand, and just like that the animal had been relieved of any memory it had created during the last twenty-four hours.

  If Tyr could do that to the brain of a three-hundred-pound beast, I could only imagine what he could do to me. The entire situation was unnerving. No pun intended

  Now, Tyr placed a steaming cup of chamomile in my hands, and took the seat next to me at the kitchen table. “Thought you might need this.”

  “Thanks.” I stared into the golden tea.

  “Something wrong?” Tyr slid an arm around my shoulders.

  I shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes. The tea traced a warm path down my throat to my stomach. It instantly brought my stress level from ten to eight.

  “I know something’s on your mind, baby. Hit me.” Tyr kept his hand on my upper arm and pulled back just enough to stare me down. The color of his eyes was absolutely mesmerizing.

  “Mia?” Tyr spoke softly.

  “Are you going to do that to me?” I blurted. “Wipe my memory clean?”

  Tyr eyed me levelly. “It depends.”

  “On what?” I gripped my teacup so hard, my knuckles cracked.

  “On whether you experience something so traumatic, you wouldn’t be able to recover without a cleansing. If that happened, then yes. I’d wipe the memories. I did a partial wipe on you the day you were attacked in the woods.”

  “You did what?” I shrieked.

  “It was necessary. You started to wake up while Freya was healing your arm. When I got back to you after Fenrir escaped, you were coming to, and you were screaming. You were in a lot of pain. I wiped your memory from the moment you blacked out until after Freya finished her healing, and she and I were out of sight. Brynn stayed with you until you woke up.”

  “That is not okay. Why would you do that?”

  “I told you.” Tyr’s expression lacked the appropriate amount of remorse. “You don’t need to suffer on my account. You were attacked because Fenrir believed you were associated with me, and you were in a lot of pain. You didn’t need to remember what you were going through.”

  “I don’t want you messing around in my head.” I didn’t blink.

  “I know you don’t. And under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t dream of invading your privacy like that. For what it’s worth, I didn’t snoop around when I was in your head. I just wiped the experience and got out. I don’t like reading people’s minds, you know.”

  “Wait, you can—oh, cheese and crackers. You can read minds too?” My head throbbed. I pushed my tea to the side, wrapped my arms around my face, and rested my forehead on the table.

  “Hey.” Tyr rubbed my lower back. “Why does that upset you?”

  “Because,” I moaned. “You know what I’m thinking? Like, all the time?” When I’d ogled his backside, compared him to a Greek god, thought about… doing things… he’d been listening in. This was beyond mortifying.

  “I don’t monitor your thoughts, Mia, but I would if I needed to. If Fenrir had captured you, and I needed to find you, I could have listened for your mind and tracked you.”

  “You’ve never listened to my thoughts?” I cautiously lifted my head.

  “Well, maybe one time.” The corner of Tyr’s mouth lifted in a smirk. “But I figured you wouldn’t be too happy if you found out, so I didn’t do it again.”

  “Oh, God. What did you hear?”

  “A gentleman never tells.” Tyr grinned. “But like I said. It won’t happen again.”

  “How does it work, exactly—reading someone’s mind? Do you have to consciously do it, or do you just hear voices?” I propped my chin on my hands, curiosity trumping embarrassment and fear.

  Tyr chuckled. “I have to consciously do it. It’s not a science; I can zero in on one person and follow their specific thoughts, or I can take a scan of a room and get general vibes—you can tell from someone’s thought pattern whether they’re up to no good.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. But it’s easier to scan someone’s aura and assess them that way. It won’t tell me what they’re planning to do, but it gives me a read on their moral compass.” Tyr gently rubbed the knots in my lower back.

  “Did you ever do that on me?”

  “Of course. The night we met.”

  “What did you see?” I held my breath.

  “You, baby, are refreshingly uncorrupted.” He raised an eyebrow. “At least, for now.”

  My fist connected with his shoulder a lot harder than I meant it to. My knuckles stung. “Sorry.”

  Tyr shrugged. “I can take it.”

  “Back to the mind reading—have you always done it?”

  “Since I took my title, yes. Odin gave my dad the ability after the war against the fire giants. That battle started because Loki abducted a giantess, and her father launched the attack on Asgard. Odin thought one of us should have seen what Loki was up to. My dad lost two of his best friends in that battle.”

  “That’s terrible.” I twined my fingers through the silky strands of his hair, and gently rubbed his scalp.

  Tyr closed his eyes. “Odin lost someone close to him that day, too. It was the impetus he needed to give the war god the ability to read minds.”

  “Why’d he give it to you guys? Why not someone else?”

  “Because if anyone needs to know what’s going on behind a false smile, it’s the God of War. Now, when I enter any room I automatically do an aura scan. Nobody’s betrayed Asgard without my seeing it coming in almost a hundred years.”

  My eyes bulged. Sometimes I forgot how long he’d been around.

  “My age bothers you, doesn’t it?”

  “No,” I lied. Tyr gave me a look. “Okay, a little. It’s just weird to think my boyfriend’s so…”

  “Good looking?”

  I glared at him. “I was thinking experienced.”

  “Nice spin.” He rolled his eyes.

  “You’re reading my mind right now, aren’t you?”

  “I promised I wouldn’t. How about we make a deal?” Tyr rubbed my hip with one hand, and held my wrists in the other.

  “What kind of a deal?”

  “A two-part deal. There may come a time when you’re in some kind of trouble. Most people who get close to me ultimately are.”

  “Tyr—”

  “I can’t fix what’s happened, but I can fight for you. Obviously Brynn, Henrik or I should always be looking out for you. But if, Odin forbid, someone ever takes you away from us, promise you’ll think my name as hard as you can. Scream it in your head if you have to. I’ll hear you. And I’ll find you.”

  I shivered. “I can do that. Now what’s the second part of the deal?”


  “I promise I won’t ever listen in on you. I don’t want you feeling like you have to censor your thoughts around me.”

  “Done.” I kissed Tyr’s nose and his eyes drooped. “You’re tired.”

  “Exhausted,” he admitted. “Let’s go to bed.”

  Oh. My. Lord.

  My whole body tensed. Who knew four words could carry so much weight? Let’s go to bed. Did he want me to share his bed? Or was I supposed to sleep in the guest room? A few days ago I’d been ready to be with him for the first time, but then he’d dropped the I’m-a-god bomb. What did I want now? Oh, who was I kidding? I knew what I wanted. At least, I thought I did. Did he want it too? Oh god, what if he didn’t?

  “Brain out of the gutter, prinsessa.” Tyr chuckled.

  “You promised you wouldn’t read my mind!” I howled.

  “Didn’t have to. You should see your face.” He grazed my chin with one finger. “Now, up to my room. We need to sleep, and I can’t do that right now if you’re not in my arms. In the morning I’ll take the ingredients to the dwarves. They should have what they need to make the chain. Henrik and I can work on our plan to catch Fenrir after that. But right now, I’m about to pass out.”

  Tyr punctuated his statement with a huge yawn.

  Stop over thinking everything, Ahlström.

  “Okay.” We walked into the hallway hand in hand. Tyr opened the mirror to check on the ingredients in the vault.

  “Everything’s there,” he confirmed, before shutting the mirror and leading the way upstairs. He kept a firm grip around my palm as he walked past the guest room, and into his bedroom.

  My heart thudded against my ribcage.

  “Henrik’s not back with the rest of your stuff yet. Here.” Tyr dug around in his dresser and pulled out a pair of Redwoods sweats and a grey T-shirt. “These okay?”

  “They’re perfect.” I eyed the open bathroom door. “I’ll just go change in there.”

  “Why?” Tyr mumbled, his shirt half over his head. Eight exquisitely defined abdominal muscles framed by obliques—actual, visible obliques—stared me down. They were spectacular. The ribbed surface of his chest called to me, making something stir deep inside. Blood drained from my face, and I licked my bottom lip while Tyr pulled his shirt the rest of the way over his head, then threw it next to the clothes hamper. Typical guy. “Mia?”