Page 21 of The Last Valkyrie (Vikingrune Academy #4)
Chapter 21
Grim
ONE OF THE Wraith ships was missing from the dock. The Yellow , which typically hauled in students from the frozen north, though occasionally went east.
It was the first thing I noticed when we got to the shore. I didn’t have time to think much more about it, or what it meant, because Salos Torfen and his two goons arrived shortly after.
The second thing I noticed was how pompous and austere Salos was. I understood now why Sven had never gotten along with him, and why he was so skeptical of the cunning alpha.
He reminded me of my own biological father—the few moments I remembered of him from my youth before he sent me off to die in the woods alone. Father had been the polar opposite—no pun intended—of my foster parents, Koll and Kerr.
Nothing was ever good enough for a man like Salos Torfen. Everyone who didn’t meet his impossible standards was a disappointment, and that included Sven and perhaps even his fallen son, Olaf.
I was glad Sven had managed to rid himself of the burden of trying to please a man like that. It would never happen. He would be fighting his entire life for a fragment of love and affection that would shatter the moment something, anything, went awry.
Salos Torfen was a fake. I didn’t trust him one bit. Now that he was here, I was inclined to snap his neck to prevent him from moving ahead on whatever “shift” he was talking about. Sven was of the same opinion, and he would have done something too if I hadn’t been here to rein him in.
My coming here was a good idea after all, I suppose.
As we left the shore and headed into the heart of the Isle through Delaveer Forest, the four of us stayed far back from Salos and his kinsmen. We shared looks of concern but said nothing, knowing that Sven’s father would have preternatural hearing just like his son did.
Vikingrune Academy waited in the distance, sitting atop Academy Hill like a shining beacon in the rainy, grisly-gray morning.
I feared the school had no idea what was coming.
Neither did I, truth be told.
We didn’t see Salos Torfen again for days. He and his men disappeared into Fort Woden where Gothi Sigmund stayed, and I imagined they housed there as well.
Sven and I returned to Ravinica, cherishing her warmth and holding her close night in and night out as we waited for the others to come back. The only thing we could do to keep the worry from our minds—especially hers—was fuck like wild animals, so we made sure to do plenty of that.
We had no idea when we’d be able to again.
Before we knew it, nearly a week had passed. It was almost time for her trek to Selby Village, to find out what was going on with her mother’s sickness.
Why Gothi Sigmund wanted to join her to her homeland was certainly concerning. He was another man none of us trusted, Ravinica least of all. We kept playing over the notion that he knew she was a dragonkin.
“If that’s the case, why would he make the effort of hauling you away from Vikingrune Academy?” I asked one afternoon, four days into our weeklong standstill. “Surely he has assassins that could try to take you out in your sleep, here, where he’s strongest.”
Sven grumbled from the bed where he lay naked, propped up on an elbow, cock draped across his thigh. Ravinica, pacing, kept glancing his way, and I had to admit the statuesque young man was hard not to look at.
“Maybe he’s planning something where there will be fewer witnesses,” Sven posed.
“In Selby Village? Vini’s own damned mother will be there, not to mention the other villagers.” I was leaning up against a wall, shirtless, arms crossed. “Here, he could have zero witnesses if he wished.”
“Yes, yes, if he stuck a knife in her while she slept. You keep saying that.”
We were both growing frustrated, but it was nothing compared to Ravinica’s nervous silence. I had to know her mind, what she was thinking.
“Is there a chance he doesn’t know what I am?” Ravinica stopped pacing to ask the question. “I mean, he didn’t see me shift. He has to know for himself, for sure, no matter the case, right?”
I glanced at Sven, our eyes locking, wondering if we were thinking the same thing.
He said, “There were countless witnesses, little menace. Besides your brothers, there were their friends and the other cadets we gathered along the way in the forest. If even one of them said something . . .”
“Plus,” I added when he trailed off, “I don’t trust your brothers, sadly.”
“Well maybe we have to,” Ravinica pushed back with frustration in her tone. “They both said they told Sigmund nothing. Maybe we have to take them at their word.”
“Even if we managed to get through to Eirik, which I’m not certain we did,” Sven said, “Damon was filled with vitriol. He hates you, Rav, and there’s no way around that.”
She bowed her head, saddened. It was no big surprise what Sven had said, but it seemed to fold her, and I glared at Sven for opening his stupid mouth so carelessly.
“Wherever you go, we go, love,” I told her, putting a hand on her shoulder, hoping to soothe her. It usually worked, but right now it had little effect. When she smiled sadly at me, I added, “If you choose to believe your brothers, then we will too. Won’t we, wolf?”
My scowl brooked no argument, and Sven rolled his eyes, flopped onto his back, and nodded. “Yeah, okay. Maybe you’re right.”
That afternoon, Arne returned to the academy. He fell into Ravinica’s arms, and we gave them an hour alone in her longhouse, Sven and I stationed outside as guards. If anyone was going to try to harm Ravinica while we left, they’d have to get through us first.
That hour was filled with shaking walls, wet moans, and the thudding of flesh. I was jealous of how eagerly Ravinica jumped Arne’s bones at his return, though Sven kept smiling impishly.
“What?” he said. “It’s not like we haven’t gotten our fair share of her while he was gone. Be happy for the dandy.”
“I’m just surprised to see you growing so fond of him,” I coaxed.
He became flustered. “I’m not fond of the ice—”
“I’m sure it has nothing to do with him dominating the dominator and railing—”
“Enough!” Sven growled. “Don’t pretend to know my feelings, Grim, when you don’t even know your own.”
My smile faded. “The Hel is that supposed to mean?”
“I saw the way you judged me for how I reacted to my father’s appearance on the shore. How you stopped me from getting at him.”
My face sank. “Sven, brother, that wasn’t judgment . That was . . . pity. Sorrow. For how I know he’s treated you all your life.”
“You know nothing of my life, Kollbjorn. Don’t act like you do. I am nothing like you! Just because your father sent you off to die in the woods as a whelp, doesn’t mean mine did. And I don’t want your fucking pity, either.”
He stormed off, leaving me stunned and wondering how things had fallen apart so swiftly.
I tried to give him grace, thinking, He’s just resentful and worried like the rest of us. Eager to make sure Ravinica is safe. And, most of all, he doesn’t want to show weakness or vulnerability.
Yes, we were certainly more alike than I’d even realized.
The abrupt blow-up showed me that my initial thought all those months ago was true: Ravinica was the key to keeping us from each other’s throats, because even at our best, Sven Torfen would always see me as a rival.
A day out from our scheduled journey, Magnus and Corym finally returned. It was at the most hectic, anxiety-riddled time—they couldn’t have cut it any shorter.
The duo wrapped Ravinica in hugs and the rest of us fucked off so they could have a smoldering threesome alone before we returned to get to brass tacks about tomorrow.
We were all ecstatic the entire pack had survived. No one looked worse for wear. Even the bloodrender and the elf, gone the longest, were unscathed and pleased with how things had gone. The elf, I noticed, had a bit of a forlorn, concerned expression on his face, however, as if he was hiding something.
Arne had said, “Dieter will do the right thing with the Lepers Who Leapt when the time comes,” though none of us really knew what that meant.
Magnus told Ravinica the Skogalfar forces were mobilizing in Kiir’luri Forest and would go through the portal before too long. Hunter-Chief Jhaeros would lead their contingent in the coming battle. Their battle prowess in forested terrain would be greatly appreciated.
Rav asked Magnus what he had to give Jhaeros for his assistance, and he didn’t hesitate.
“Access to my blood.”
“Magnus, no!” Rav wailed. “It’s been months since the last blood-leechings and tests! I can’t let you do that, for my conscience.”
“Silvermoon,” Magnus said with a small smile, “it’s different this time. That was extortion and blackmail. This is voluntary. More importantly, it’s . . . for you. For all of us. I would gladly give my blood to anyone, so long as they’re willing to help us.”
Ravinica let the argument die there.
When it was Corym’s turn, he said the Ljosalfar would also be sending a small army to assist the humans. It was a revelation, history-making, and we wished we could tell Gothi Sigmund the good news.
However, everything was so up in the air right now, we simply couldn’t trust him enough, even though Sigmund had authorized their journey through the portal.
“What did you have to give in exchange?” Ravinica asked. “I’m sure Maltor Vaalnath would want a lot in return for brokering an unprecedented peace agreement between our people. Unless he was satisfied with the glory and accolades that will come with such an agreement.”
“He . . . was not,” Corym mumbled.
I raised my brow, along with the other mates. Magnus wouldn’t meet anyone’s eye.
Then Corym said, “I cannot lie to you, Ravinica. I had to swear an oath.” He sighed deeply. “It’s one I don’t intend on keeping.”
“An oath to do what?” Suspicion colored her question.
“An oath to . . . erm.” Corym scratched the back of his neck. It was the first time we’d seen him so out of sorts, the proper, cool light elf fumbling his words. Finally, he composed himself and spoke slowly. “I had to guarantee a union between my family and another, to stop rebellious elves from attacking Heira’s Eastern Crossing.”
“A union,” Ravinica said, her voice flat. Her eyes narrowed with deeper suspicion.
“I am to marry Zentha E’lain, lunis’ai .”
Complete silence and shock. Ravinica’s mouth fell open.
Corym put out a hand, saying, “I am not going to do it, my love. Please, understand that I love only you. And fiercely. Zentha understands, too. But I had to make it look to Maltor Vaalnath that I’d go through with it . . .”
The expression on Ravinica’s face was all her worst fears coming true—the initial jealousy she’d had over the beautiful elven handmaid being completely founded, rather than childish doubt.
I hated to see her break that like, and Corym’s words did little to appease her.
She was speechless for a moment. Then, with her voice cracking and tears in her eyes, she said, “What do you mean Zentha understands , Corym?”
“Well, my love, as it turns out, Zentha has no desire for men. None at all. Only women and in’kylin. Furthermore, she isn’t exactly enthusiastic about the idea of becoming the Maltor ’s broodmare, which is exactly what she would become if we were to marry. In my world, our liege and mother-father has jurisdiction to impregnate any spouse of their children. A Court-Prince from Zentha, who is related to the warring family rebelling against Heira, would shore up their alliance. It’s all a farce, you see?”
When her face scrunched in confusion, trying to work through the complex hierarchical mechanics of Alfheim, Corym wrapped her in a tight embrace.
“It will be okay, lunis’ai , and we will get our army to help win this battle. You let me handle the messy politics on the other side of it, yes?”
She nodded dumbly, still at a loss for words.
Magnus thankfully broke the awkward silence, before any of our hearts could continue breaking for Ravinica.
“I think that’s quite enough fun for one night, friends. Should we not talk about the big day tomorrow? Because I’m not feeling good at all about traveling across the seas with Sigmund fucking Calladan.”
We were all in agreement there, at least.