Midnight Eclipse (Paranormal Viking Romance, Completed)

Chapter 22: Missing

Greenland, Present Day

With an exhausted groan--because this day has tested both my mind and body--I throw myself on Mikk's bed almost immediately upon entering the house. I did have to climb the stairs first, cursing Mikk's choice not to sleep on the ground floor with every conquered step. The blankets welcome me in their soft embrace, while the paintings on the walls soothe my overstimulated mind. I could lay here forever.

Björn told us he needs to rest and feed before he can tell the remainder of his story. Judging from his tone, he wanted to make sure we were nowhere near when his predator self ventured outside the cave in the hunt for prey. Something tells me there are more twists and turns before the tale of the Viking lost in time can come to an end. I hope there's a way for us to help him, however that assistance will look like in such a situation, once it's all said and done.

"That was certainly something," Mikk mutters, arduously--his body must be aching as well--making his way up the stairs.

I mutter affirmatively in reply, letting my limbs sink deeper into the mattress while I wonder if there are fast food deliveries in Greenland. Because Björn is not the only one who's starving currently, judging from the sounds of my stomach, although I'm not yet quite as desperate that I'm willing to go out hunting for my own food.

"I have some frozen pizzas," Mikk says as if he's read my mind. Or perhaps my stomach was growling loud enough for him to hear. "I hope that'll do for dinner?"

Before I can reply, a buzz cuts through the room. I sit up to see Mikk extract his phone from his pocket. "It's my mom," he sighs. "She's probably heard through the grapevine that I wasn't at work today and wants to interrogate me on my whereabouts. Just hold on while I assure her I'm alive."

While Mikk walks down the stairs again, talking quickly in his mother tongue, I lay back down on the bed. But something on the wall-mounted shelves catches my eye while I descend into blankets and pillows. Something I've seen before but not realized the potential significance of. Despite my limbs aching from the trek into the wilderness, I rise to investigate.

Björn's story still rings in my ears as I look upon a small rusty dagger with a handle made of walrus ivory.

Could it really be? I let my fingers trace the worn blade. Mikk told me the first time I visited his home that an ancestor of his probably stole the artifact from an unlucky explorer or whale hunter. But perhaps the truth about its origins has gotten lost in the whirlpool of time.

Perhaps the item is older than Mikk realizes. Perhaps it's a gift from one brother to another. Perhaps it's a link between the past and the present.

"Saga!" I turn upon hearing Mikk's voice, clasping the dagger in my grip. Peeking up over the railing, Mikk wears a look I can't quite read. A wrinkle between his eyes tells me something is amiss. "I think you need to see this," he holds up his phone screen where I can see a video playing.

Momentarily forgetting about my theories about the dagger, I let it fall into the big pocket on the front of my hoodie, which is borrowed from Mikk and has a logo of a white bear and the text Nuuk Ice Bears underneath--apparently the name of his high school hockey team. I'm not sure what an ice bear is, except for a name someone thought would be cool for a sports team. Maybe that's all it is.

I sit down beside Mikk on the unmade bed, focusing my eyes on the small screen in his massive hand. This time, I don't connect the size of his hand to the size of another part of his body. I've already confirmed that theory anyway.

On the phone screen, a news report from the local Greenlandic TV network is playing. The voice-over shifts between the language Mikk just spoke and Danish, so I don't understand much of what is said. But that doesn't matter, as the images speak louder than words.

My image. There's an image of my own damn face displayed on the screen! It appears to be my passport image, taken head-on without a hint of a smile. It reminds me of a mugshot. Underneath the unflattering picture, there are a few rows of text that I am able to read: my name, age, and main characteristics (dark blonde hair, hazel eyes, about 170 cm tall).

I've watched enough true crime shows to know what this is: it's the kind of info put out for a missing person.

"What are they saying?" I ask Mikk. "Are they looking for me?"

He nods. "My mom says every news outlet has your face on it today. TV, newspapers, internet. She's worried I'll get arrested for abducting you. She thinks we should go to the police station right away and show them that you're alive and well."

"I won't let you get arrested," I promise him, putting my hand on his knee. My gesture of affection is rewarded with a small smile.

"I trust that you won't," he assures me. "I just don't want to deal with all of this right now."

We do have to get back to Björn in the evening as he still has a lot to tell us, and the midnight eclipse--which he tells us is of significance for his curse--is fast approaching. But this does seem like the kind of issue that we can't really just ignore.

"I don't understand..." I mumble. "Who has even reported me missing? I messaged my parents at home yesterday. They know I'm fine."

My question is answered as a familiar face appears on the screen. Not my own this time but another visage. One that carries with it bitter memories.

Stefan.

"I don't even know what she's doing here," I hear him say on the screen, speaking in both our Native language of Swedish. His eyes look to be filled with tears and his voice trembles. I can't help but huff at the sight of him. He was never this concerned about my whereabouts or well-being when we were together.

"Saga sent me a message yesterday, with the location marker being Greenland," my bastard ex-fiance continues. "So I had to go here, looking for her. She's obviously not in her right mind. After having been observed in town a few days ago, she seems to have vanished into thin air. I worry she's out there in the wilderness somewhere, injured or worse... She's not used to taking care of herself."

Mikk has to move the phone away from me as I try to snag and throw it at the nearest wall. I can't take care of myself?! Says the guy who fled into another room if there was a spider nearby and whose idea of trekking is to walk between the subway and the office.

"Turn it off," I grunt, settling for pitching a pillow at the bookcase.

Mikk obeys my order, probably because he is worried about the health of his phone otherwise. "Your ex?" he asks.

I nod while letting out a growl that would make Björn proud. "My fucking ex," I confirm through gritted teeth. "My fucking ex is here."

Author's Note: This story is back in action! I took a bit of a break from writing for the last few weeks, because of work, the holidays, and my generally frazzled state of mind. But hopefully, I can keep updating this story once or twice a week from now on, until it's finished (we're a bit more than halfway through).