Heir to Jotunheim | ✔

Chapter One

"Tyr for the love of gods can you just tie it neatly for once? This is your first day, you need to make a good impression." Mum barked, her hands fiddling with the knotted tie around my neck.

"Stop it, it's fine Mum. Please leave it be." I tried to gently brush her hands away, trying to squeeze behind her to grab my lunch from the fridge. Note the word: trying. At six months pregnant my mother was not as slim as she once was.

"No Tyr, this is your third secondary school now and you only have to stay there for one year! There are no more in this city and I am not paying for you to have a stupidly long bus journey to and from the school across town every day." She lectured me again, hands on her hips as she pushed the fridge door shut. Freya snickered from her seat at the counter, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she watched me being yelled at.

"I won't get kicked out again Mum, I promise." I tried to persuade her, just wanting the small box of pasta I made last night.

"Dahlia, lay off him for five minutes otherwise he'll be late." I sent Dad a grateful smile as he ushered Mum towards the living room where Maya was battling with her school shoe.

"Nice suit," Freya grinned sarcastically, eyeing the suit the formal-business dress code forced upon all sixth form students. Luckily it was more form fitting and comfortable than the uniform the lower years had to wear, but I was still angry about it.

Freya was attending a local college to study fine art, and she was currently wearing ripped denim dungarees, which she'd hand-dyed purple during the summer, with a disgusting jumper that had appeared from Grandads box of clothes he'd saved from the 70s.

"Zip it." I glared at her, shoving my lunch into my bag, trying to fit it in next to the diary and pencil case that was also taking up valuable space.

"Freya stop annoying your brother." Dad appeared at the counter to give her a reproachful look before he sighed, disappearing as Brooke's whimpering became audible from the nursery.

"Do you want a lift?" Freya sighed, as she slid off the chair and scooped her keys into her hand. She'd decided on driving lessons for her last birthday present, whilst I'd asked for the money to go straight into my savings account. Not exactly a fun present, but it meant I had something saved if there was anything I desperately wanted.

I shook my head, and slid the bag onto my shoulders. "I'm walking Maya to school then getting the bus."

"What about Charlie?" Charlie was our oldest younger sibling, and had reached the annoying age of 13. He was at the school me and Freya had first joined at the beginning of year seven, before I was abruptly kicked out. Freya stayed, and Charlie followed suit.

"What about him?" I frowned, "Maya come on! I don't want to be late." I yelled from the front door. I heard her grumbling about not being able to find her cardigan as Freya stepped outside.

"Charlie needs taking to school too." Freya frowned.

I gestured to the nursery where our father had wandered off to. "Dad can take him."

"I can't take him." Dad appeared beside me in a haze of green, holding our youngest sister in his arms. "Brooke's still not sleeping with this cough of hers, and I'm needed on Jotunheim so your mother is looking after her, and she's can't look after Brooke and get Charlie to school."