Page 99 of Challenge Me

“I have no idea. Do I have to say it out loud?”

“If you want them to hear you, yes.”

“I’m not sure they’ll listen to me anyway. I’m not exactly part of their tribe, so to speak.”

“Our ancestors are part of our connection, of course. Does that mean you have to be connected to the gods by blood for them to listen?” I lifted one shoulder. “Some people think so, but the twins themselves came from Vanaheim and were once at war with the Aesir. Besides, who am I to question the interests of the gods? For what it’s worth, I think if you’re offering them something with a good heart, they might just listen.”

“Alright, then to the god who gave his hand for his friends . . .” He glanced at me with a grimace.

“Tyr,” I filled in, trying not to smile.

“Tyr. It’s probably a big ask, but since you’re one for justice, it’d really help me out if you set your sights on a woman named Clara Kessler.” He paused. “Respectfully.” Once he dropped the match in, he clicked his tongue. “I don’t feel anything.”

I breathed a laugh. “It comes from inside you. I’d say you have a poor connection with your own self.”

“Probably.” Turning to face me, he leaned his hip against the counter. “Don’t be so morose about it all.”

“That’s not how I feel.”

“Tell me how you feel.”

While his fingers stroked down my arm, I thought about it. “When Oli got placed in the same house as me, I felt an instant connection with him. He’s always been incredibly pure. To this day, I don’t know how he manages it, but the fire inside of him never dies. That house was a nightmare. The guy was a functional alcoholic and a terrible drunk. If he wasn’t taking it out on his wife, it was one of the kids.”

Amir’s jaw worked. “Why would you stay there?”

“Is that a serious question?”

“Didn’t you have a social worker you could tell? I can’t imagine they’d keep you in a place like that.”

My lips curved, less from humor and more from his hopeful naivety. “You leave enough houses, they stop finding you new ones. Nobody wants to take in teenaged boys, so eventually, they drop you in a group home. Trust me; those make the bad houses look good.”

“That’s . . .” He shook his head, and the despondent look on his face was reminiscent of all those who became jaded by such things.

“I did everything I could to keep him safe there. He became this light, and something inside of me said that if I let it go out, that would be it for me. He was the last bit of hope I had, because if he could survive longer than me—his entire freaking life—in those sorts of places, without ever knowing what love or family felt like, and still find reasons to smile, maybe I could too. Then . . .” I swallowed and moved my gaze past him. “We got separated. I didn’t reach out, but he did. He never stopped. And until the day he showed up at my apartment in Seattle, sixteen and nearly as lost as I’d been at his age, I tried to forget how much he meant to me.”

“And the rest is history,” Amir said with a soft smile.

“Basically, yeah.”

“So, is that how you feel? Like something important has been taken from you?”

“I didn’t mean to get attached. I’m sorry.”

His finger covered my lips. “Don’t you dare apologize for caring about my daughter. You made a goddamn offering because of it. That’s sweet in an odd way.”

“I just want her to be safe and happy. I thought divine intervention couldn’t hurt.”

“God, Remi.” Moving his fingers to grip my jaw, he pulled me close and kissed me. “Does anybody know how deeply you care for things? Besides Oli.”

“Odin. Freyja too.”

He snorted. “Well, don’t get too depressed about it. She’ll be around when I’m home. That’s how it works during the season.”

“But Avery doesn’t want that.”

“We’re very good at co-parenting. It’s been more difficult this past month, but when it comes down to it, this is our deal, written and signed into our agreement. She can’t stop me from having Mal. This was technically her week, so that’s the only reason she got to make the decision.”

“I don’t want to cause a rift.”