Page 83 of Scornful

Her voice is barely above a whisper. "How bad is it?"

"Bad enough," I admit. "But we'll handle it. We always do."

"I need to—" I start, but Emil appears at my shoulder.

"Geirolf. Got a minute?"

I glance at Astrid, who nods and returns to helping her mother.

Emil leads me to a quieter corner near the hallway that leads to the offices.

"What's up?"

He runs a hand through his hair—a gesture so like his father's it's almost funny. "I wanted to... fuck, I'm shit at this." He meets my eyes. "Thank you. For killing Laken. For protectin’ my sister when I couldn't."

His words surprise me.

Last time we talked about Astrid, he wanted to put me in the ground.

"I heard what that piece of shit said before you put him down," Emil continues. "About hurting Astrid. Making her suffer." His jaw clenches. "I should have been the one to handle it. She's my sister. But you... you didn't hesitate."

"Never would," I tell him honestly.

"I was wrong about you two," he continues. "Seein’ how you handled that piece of shit, how you've stepped up today... She's safe with you. That's all that matters."

He extends his hand. I clasp it, feeling the dam of tension breaking. We're good now. Really good.

"I'll always protect her," I promise.

"I know," he says simply. "That's why I'm not pissed anymore. Well, that and Dad would probably kill us both if we kept fighting."

Before I can respond, Tor appears. "Geirolf! Why aren’t you at the fuckin’ hospital? Kraken's family needs security. You put together the detail yet?"

I nod, already moving. "Leavin’ now. Emil, come with me."

"Right behind you."

I gather a small crew quickly—Magnus, Rio, Hakon, and Bodul.

Six brothers should be enough to lock down a hospital wing.

As we gear up, I pull each man aside, making sure they understand the stakes.

"This isn't just guard duty," I tell them. "The Patriot already hit Kraken's family once. He might try to finish the job."

Rio's face hardens at that.

He knows better than anyone what it's like to lose family to this war.

The ride there is tense, everyone looking for potential threats.

Every car that passes too close gets scrutinized.

Every pedestrian who looks too long becomes suspicious.

We ride in together, bikes rumbling through the city streets like a warning.

The hospital is a maze of white corridors and smells too much like antiseptic for my liking.

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