Heir to Jotunheim | ✔

Chapter Ten

~Tyrs POV~

Mum was quiet as we led the way back to the car park. Her eyes were drawn to the floor, and I could see her mind working overtime as she chewed gently on her lip.

I could hear Cleopatra laughing with her Dads behind us, neither of them upset that she'd been suspended for beating up Nathan. I glanced back to see them fiddling with their helmets, heading in the general direction of their parked up bikes.

"Excuse me!" I jumped as Mum shouted, and all of us stopped walking to look at her. "Would you like to come to ours for a cuppa?"

I exchanged a look with Dad, but before he could say anything, Cleopatras Dad smiled, and stepped forward. "We'd love to. Well just swap the bikes for our car, then pop round?"

"That sounds great!" Mum gushed, waving goodbye to them. She set off to the car with a renewed sense of purpose, and opened the door, sliding into the drivers seat without looking back.

Dad looked confused, and began strapping Brooke into her car seat as she babbled into his ear. "Why are you inviting them round for a cup of tea?"

"To say thank you." Mum clicked her seatbelt into place, then turned to look at us. "Hurry up, the house is a mess and you're taking forever."

Dad huffed, and got in the passenger seat as I shut the door on my side. Mum didn't let on any other reason as to why Cleopatra and her family were visiting us, and nether did Dad and I ask. Instead we sat quietly, except for Brooke who began crying lightly for food as we pulled into our driveway.

***

~Cleopatras POV~

"You have to be on your best behaviour," I stood on the step outside Tyr's front door, waiting to ring the bell, "I really like him."

"I knew it," Jamie nudged Dads shoulder, and I felt my cheeks flame violently.

"Not like that!" I blurted out, but before I could argue my point, the door swung open and Tyrs Mum stood glancing between us. "Hi! Mrs-" I cut myself off, suddenly panicking that I had no idea what her surname was. I knew Tyrs was Lokison, but that obviously wasn't hers after they got married.

"Dahlia, call me Dahlia please." She stepped back, one hand holding the door open as she rested the other on her pregnant belly. "Come in."

We hesitantly walked in, and I almost whistled at the size of the entrance hall in front of us. It split into a living room and kitchen space, and there was stuff everywhere. Ancient paintings covered in gold hung beside baby hand prints, and piles of old school books were placed beside what looked like dusty manuscripts on the shelves to the side.

Jamie cleared his throat cautiously, and moved his arms from behind his back to show the small plant pot in his hands. "I got you a Dahlia plant."

Dahlia looked like she wanted to burst into tears as she stepped forward, "you didn't have to go out of your way like that."

"There's loads at our place." Dad cut in, "Jamie made our home his own personal greenhouse."

Jamie elbowed him with a soft chuckle, "it's our way of saying thank you for letting us come here."

A tear slipped down Dahlias cheek as he spoke, and just as she was wiping it away, Tyr could be seen walking down the stairs. Like me, he'd changed from the strict dress code we wore for school, and had relaxed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, with his hair bundled into a bun on the back of his head.

He looked hot. Effortlessly beautiful.

He caught sight of his Mum crying instantly, and sped over to her side, taking the plant from her hands. "Are you alright?" He murmured softly, his lips close to her face so she could hear.