Page 82 of Scornful

The weight of that settles on my shoulders.

Not just Astrid, but Fenrir, Charm, Ingrid. The whole family is under my protection. It feels like a test and blessing at the same time.

"Understood," I say simply.

"Communication goes dark," Runes adds. "Burner phones only. No personal cells, no traceable calls. The Patriot's got eyes and ears everywhere—we don't give him shit to work with."

"What about medical emergencies?" Aesir asks. "If someone needs a hospital?—"

"We cross that bridge when we come to it," Runes says. "But nobody travels alone. Always in pairs, always armed."

"And Kraken?" Emil asks. He's been quiet until now, but his concern for his brother is evident. "His family's at the hospital."

"They'll have security," Runes assures him. "Geirolf, put together a detail. Nobody goes near that hospital room without our permission."

"I'll take care of it," I promise.

Runes looks around the table one more time. "This isn't just another beef, brothers. This is survival. The Patriot wants us destroyed—our families dead, our legacy erased. We don't give him that satisfaction. Questions?"

Silence. We all understand how serious this is.

"Good. Then let's get to work. Brothers, we're at war. Act like it."

The gavel slams down, officially endingkirkja.

We file out, each man focused on his assigned task.

The weight of what we're facing sits heavy on every shoulder.

This isn't just club business anymore.

This is about protecting everything we've built, everyone we love.

The main room is complete chaos when I emerge.

Word has already spread about the lockdown.

Women are organizing sleeping arrangements while kids run around, excited by the sudden "sleepover" that their parents are trying to spin this as.

Prospects are already hauling in cots and sleeping bags from storage into every brothers’ room.

Thank fuck we have the room here to even have all the families stay.

Astrid's by the kitchen, helping her mother move supplies.

She looks up when she sees me, worry clear in those sage green eyes.

I cross to her, not giving a shit who sees anymore.

She sets down a box of canned goods."What's happening?"

"Lockdown," I tell her, pulling her slightly aside. "Everyone stays here until we deal with the Patriot. Your mom and Fern are closing the spa for a few days."

She nods without argument.

Three months ago, she might have protested, might have insisted on maintaining her independence.

Now she understands when things are necessary.

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