Chapter 52

52

Freya peered out the small aircraft window, watching as the narrow gray line of the airstrip appeared beneath them, surrounded by dark volcanic rock and patches of green brush.

Home.

She’d only been away for a few weeks, but it felt like a lifetime. So much had changed.

A warm hand closed over hers.

She turned from the window to Abe at her side, his broad frame squeezed into the narrow airplane seat. Leo had offered them a private flight, but Freya had wanted this—an ordinary return, nothing elaborate. Just her, the familiar landscape below, and the man she loved.

She hadn’t been back to Hellisheidi yet, and the boxed raw calculations transported to Norway were useless without the formula from her laptop—just puzzle pieces with no guiding picture. With the archive gone, only Tinna remained to pull her back—Tinna, who had stepped in for Einar while he awaited trial for aiding Korolov.

She was still on leave, and with time to reflect, she’d discovered there was more to life than work and reports. There were people she needed to be with, people she loved. People who had become her real home.

Abe was based in Norway, and his work with Guardsmen Security was more than a job—his team was his family. And here she was, realizing for the first time that she had no one in Iceland who truly mattered. Before, she’d had her career, but that wasn’t enough anymore.

“Glad to be heading home?” Abe asked, a smile lighting up his face despite the cramped seat.

Freya exhaled. “It feels strange.”

He nodded. “It often does. After an op, it takes time to settle back into reality, especially when you’ve been staring down life or death.”

“I’ve started looking at new research positions.” She hesitated, then gave a little shrug. “I guess my contract sort of went up in smoke when I, well, deleted the archive.”

“Of course.” A small crease appeared between his brows, his eyes searching hers. She knew he’d support whatever she wanted, that he would go anywhere for her happiness. But going forward, things had to be for both of them. She wanted to make him happy, too. And maybe she’d discovered a way to make herself happy as well.

She reached up, smoothing the crease with her thumb, and pressed a kiss to his temple. “In Oslo.”

His eyes flicked up, a flash of hope in them. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

He cupped her face between his hands, his gaze holding hers with fierce tenderness. “It doesn’t matter where we are, as long as we’re together. I could do contract work from Iceland?—”

She lifted one of his hands from her cheek and pressed a kiss to the center of his palm. “I know. And that means everything to me. But this is something I want, too. A fresh start.”

“There’s still a lot to figure out, but this?” She rested her hand over his heart. “This feels like the right direction.”

He leaned in and kissed her hard, leaving her breathless under the amused gaze of the flight attendant. But she didn’t care. As long as she was with Abe, she needed nothing else.

At baggage claim, Abe collected both their bags and carried them to the rental car. She’d stopped insisting on helping. Over the last few weeks, she’d seen how much it meant to him to take care of her in small, simple ways. So now she let herself enjoy it.

Abe drove them through the familiar countryside, fields of black lava rock and stretches of low hardy greens under a sky of moody grays and fleeting patches of pale blue.

He stopped the car at the crest of a hill, and they looked down into the valley below. Asta’s house lay below, a single wisp of smoke curling from the chimney into the crisp afternoon air. Metal mesh winked in the afternoon light.

“Shall we?” he asked.

She nodded, reaching across to squeeze his knee. Abe understood what this moment meant to her, and as he guided the car down the hill and pulled up outside Asta’s house, she felt her heart lift. She’d spoken to Asta on the phone, but it wasn’t enough. She needed to see her friend, to hug her, to know in her heart that Asta was okay after risking so much to help them.

The front door of the house swung open before Abe had even turned off the engine. Asta stepped out, her silver hair tucked under a cap of woven metal mesh.

“I see nothing’s changed,” Abe grunted, shooting Freya a sidelong look.

Freya laughed. “I’m glad.” Everything was just as it should be.

She jumped out of the car and ran to Asta, taking her silver-gloved hands in hers. “Asta. It’s so good to see you.”

“You too, Freya.” Asta’s sharp eyes sparkled, her lips curving upward. “Those men—I made sure they couldn’t follow you, heh?”

Freya hugged her tightly, the relief of feeling her friend safe and well making her a little giddy. “You did amazing, Asta. But you shouldn’t have to put yourself at risk like that.”

When they broke apart, Asta’s cheeks were flushed. “Us old birds are harder to kill than we look.” She winked at Freya before turning her attention to Abe. “And I see you kept this one.” She wagged a gloved finger at him while throwing Freya an approving look. “Good choice.”

Abe grinned and engulfed Asta in a bear hug, lifting her right off her feet. “Asta, it’s great to see you.” He set her back down with care. “We wanted to thank you in person—for everything. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

Asta waved her hand dismissively. “Pshaw. Enough of that. Come inside! You must be tired, hungry. I’ve made a special tea just for your visit.” She headed toward the house, beckoning them to follow.

Abe shot Freya a dubious look. “Special tea?” he murmured, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t wait.”

Freya smothered a laugh, squeezing his hand. “You survived it last time. Just pace yourself.”

With a dramatic sigh and a grin, he lifted her hand to his lips, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. “Anything for you, Duchess. Always.”