Mislav’s voice broke in before she could question him.

“We’re fine,” he said. Although Gene didn’t look back, he knew Mislav was crawling out from under the table. “Sorry for worrying you, Marisha…”

Damaris’s eyes went over Gene’s shoulder as she smiled sadly.

“It’s alright,” she said kindly, “do you two have the books you want to bring back?”

Her eyes dropped to Gene as she finished. She still had that sad smile, but it looked wrong for some reason. And he couldn’t help thinking of creeping rose vines.

Why?

“Oh!” Mislav said.

Gene gratefully used that excuse to tear his eyes from Damaris.

Mislav was already running away, hurrying in the direction they’d come from. He called over his shoulder: “we left them back in the corner!”

Damaris sighed and muttered something under her breath, but Gene focused on his eyes on Misiu, who laid forgotten on the ground. The horrifying thing pretending to be a cuddly bear.

Trying his best to ignore Damaris, he knelt down—leaning against his cane for support—and picked Misiu up.

You’re definitely cuddly, I’ll give you that, Gene thought begrudgingly.

As though the bear could hear him.

It, of course, did not respond. But it was awfully nice to hug.

“Zhenya,” Damaris said softly.

Gene hesitantly looked back to her.

There was an attempted-reassuring smile on her lips as she looked down at him. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not hurt at all?”

Gene unwittingly hugged Misiu tighter, but gave a slow nod.

“Yeah,” he said, though he struggled to get the word out. “I’m fine.”

Damaris’s eyebrows lifted skeptically, but her eyes skipped past him and to her side as—

“Got them!” Mislav’s voice cried cheerfully.

Gene looked over as well.

Mislav triumphantly held their three books over his head as he ran back to them. Their three thick books. Well, two of them—Gene’s—were thick. The last one was thinner. Regardless, Mislav didn’t wobble or show any other signs of struggling as he ran.

Because he wasn’t struggling.

“Mislav!” Damaris cried, starting forward.

But Mislav didn’t pay her any mind. He grinned as he slowed to a stop in front of them, lowered his arms to hug the books, and gave Gene a wink. His mouth opened slightly as he prepared to speak, but Damaris beat him to it.

“Misha!” she said sternly.

Mislav’s eyes went wide as he looked at her.

Damaris scrunched her nose as she looked down at him and continued, “that was dangerous! Don’t do that again! What if you dropped them on your head!?”

How is she able to sound so authoritative while speaking softly? Gene wondered, amazed. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to get used to that.

Mislav just scoffed and rolled his eyes before turning a devious grin onto Gene.

What Damaris didn’t know was that Mislav was a berserker, which meant he was stronger than any normal kid. Especially when he got angry.

Being a berserker meant more than getting stronger with anger, though. It boosted all of his physical abilities and his senses. To top it all off, he healed from injuries more quickly.

So imagine what it was like when he got angry.

Although he’d show off his strength sometimes, Mislav hated that he was a berserker. Not only was it his own curse, gifted to him by Zhrizn—Glavnran’s evil god of nature—after he’d orchestrated the deaths of Mislav’s family, but the people of Kavo hated berserkers. They said they were wild, destructive creatures that did nothing but hurt and kill.

Those were the reasons why Gene never told Mislav what he thought of a berserker’s abilities.

They made for a perfect weapon of war.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me!” Damaris said more sternly. “Is this what you two get up to when I’m not around?”

Mislav wiped his grin from his lips and put an innocent look on his face as he met her eyes.

“Yes ma’am,” he said serenely, “But no ma’am. I’ve never done anything like this before, I promise!” That was a lie.

Finally, he put a clearly-fake rueful expression and said solemnly: “I’ll never do it again.”

Gene’s heart fluttered as he looked at Damaris.

Her eyes were narrowed on Mislav. She wasn’t buying it.

“You better not, mister,” she said.

Mislav’s face twitched as he tried to keep the angelic look, but it was quickly replaced by a devilish grin.

“M-Mislav,” Gene interrupted, taking a step forward and dropping his eyes to stare hard at the bear in his arms. His skin crawled as he felt both of their eyes on him. “Are… you going to be able to hold all of our books and Misiu…? W-we can leave mine…”

Damaris sighed heavily, interrupting him.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I can carry them for you.”

By the time Gene looked up at her, she had finished pulling her knapsack over her shoulder and was holding her hand out to Mislav.

“Hand it here,” she said. She wore an irritated expression, but was clearly holding back a smile.

Mislav’s slightly-obnoxious grin dropped from his lips and was replaced by a genuine, tired smile.

“Thank you, Marisha,” he said sincerely as he held them out for her.

Damaris tutted, but accepted the books and placed them within her knapsack one by one. As her dark, curly hair fell in her face, a fond smile came to her lips. She was trying to hide it.

Gene averted his eyes, swallowing and rhythmically flexing his hands as a blush spread across his face.

Why am I scared? And happy? Gene couldn’t understand his feelings about Damaris. One second, he’d be terrified of her. The next, her kindness and soft demeanor made him want to break down into her lap crying.

So why am I scared!? Gene wondered. She’s smiling!

Something shifted in Gene’s arms, making him look up sharply.

Mislav had grabbed Misiu and started to pull it toward him with his tired smile on his lips, but paused at Gene’s reaction.

Before Mislav could say anything, Gene pushed the bear into his arms, quickly took a step back, and turned to face Damaris instead. Please don’t say anything—

Thankfully, she hadn’t seen the exchange. Damaris was looking over her shoulder, knapsack slung over her back, toward the library’s exit.

She turned her eyes to them with another sigh and a smile.

“Are we all ready to go?” she asked. “Everyone’s waiting for us in the hall.”

Mislav made a sound as if about to argue, but sighed.

“Yeah,” Mislav said defeatedly.

Damaris’s eyebrows furrowed and she looked to Gene questioningly.

Gene just gave her an awkward nod, picking at the handle of his cane.