Page 62 of The Serpent’s Shadow

The Magnus I knew was not a sociopath like everyone else thought. But try telling anyone that now, when he answered in such a cold, heartless way.

“So we let them rot?” I asked, eyes pinching helplessly.

“The gods will not dismay the decision, silvermoon.”

“Fuck the gods,” I scoffed, earning a whip-snap of heads and necks in my direction. Flushing from all the attention, I added, “What about our consciences? Our fates may be preordained by the Norns, but that doesn’t mean we don’t get to fill the moments with our own choices. We can’t use the gods as scapegoats.”

“Wise words, little fox,” Arne said from behind me.

Face twisting, I growled over my shoulder without looking at him. “Fuck you, Arne. I didn’t ask you.” It was ruthless. I didn’t want to hear his voice. I didn’t need the turncoat trying to placate me.

He fell quiet, and I immediately felt like an asshole.

Grim, hulking next to me like an obedient sentinel, spoke in a low voice. “It’s not a matter of gods, fates, or scapegoats, Ravinica. I think it’s a matter of timing.”

I looked up at him, eyes imploring.

“The time it would take to bury a score of bodies? We’d be here all morning, inviting more Huscarls to find us. Then we’d have to kill them too. And bury them. And the next lot. When would it end?”

For some reason, his words made me smile, probably making me look like a madwoman. I agreed about the timing, but the never-ending loop of murder and burials? It sounded ridiculous.

“You agree with Magnus, then?” I asked him point-blank.

The man had thrown on a dead man’s garb, and looked like a Huscarl. I thought he was much better off without the clothes, personally. Then again, it would have been utterly distracting to have him walking next to me and carrying on a conversation with that thing slapping around his thighs while I was fully clothed.

Small blessings? Massive blessings?I sighed. I was hopeless.

“Sadly, I do agree with Magnus,” Grim said. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Around me, I want everyone to speak their minds without fear of retribution.” I paused, lifting a finger. “Except Arne. He should fear retribution.”

Sven snickered behind me.

Hearing my bully laugh made my shoulders stiffen, and I shook my head.Ugh. I’m sounding like him. That’s why he finds it funny. Shit.

With great reluctance, I stopped walking and turned to face Arne. After nearly running into me with his head bowed in humiliation, he lifted his chin to gaze into my face. His bright eyes sparkled, dewy with remorse.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you,” I spit out.Though I shouldn’t be sorry . . . I can’t act like a bully just because he’s on my shit-list. It’s not me.

Plus, the iceshaperhadbeen in the group that saved my life. I couldn’t forget he had joined them when it mattered most—when my life was on the line.

Gods above, we may not have even won without him. That ice shield he cast on the trees to keep the other group away from us long enough may have been the thing that tipped the scales.

A slight sliver of a smile showed on Arne’s pretty, bruised face. “It’s fine. I deserve it.”

Great. Not only is he ashamed about what he did, he’s also wallowing in self-pity.

He needed to snap out of it. I hoped he would realize it sooner than later, or else he’d never live up to my high expectations.

I didn’t want Arne Gornhodr’s apology. I wanted him to make amends and prove to me he could be trusted. I also didn’t want to have totellhim that’s what I wanted.He should realize it on his own. Sink or swim.

Tilting my head, I nudged my chin toward him. “Who did that to your face?”

His eyes danced to the men around me. “You’re looking at them.”

Sven raised his hand proudly. “It was me.” His eyes darted to Grim across the way. “Mostly.”

I didn’t need to know what that look he gave Grim was about. I’d let the shifters keep their little moments together forthemselves. If it meant them not killing each other, I was all for it.

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