Thorsteinn
Sorrel turned from me, her jaw tight. Her dark hair fell across her face, a veil between us.
Did you have to interrupt? Vik tossed his knife at me. It bounced off my bare chest, handle first, which is how I knew he wasn’t trying to kill me. Not that a simple knife throw can kill a Berserker. I retrieved the knife and tested the blade against my palm. The sharp edge sliced a stinging red line across my rough and calloused skin. It healed immediately.
“Was I wrong?” I asked aloud. “Sorrel, did you have something to say?”
“No. Nothing.”
I raised a brow at Vik. See? She does not trust us.
She never will if you taunt her.
You taunt her all the time.
That’s different. He held up his hand, silently ordering me to throw his knife back. I let it fly at a mark just past him and he
