Page 137 of Blood of Ancients

Chapter 38

Magnus

RAVINICA HAD A PRICELESSgown splayed across the main bed when the six of us emerged from the hot springs room.

It had taken us nearly an hour of recovery after the intense mating session we’d had. I couldn’t take my mind off it, or my eyes off Ravinica. Only once we were done, spent, and heaving for breath, did it dawn on us how depraved and ludicrous we’d become. How ravenous we’d been in each other’s presence, finally able to consummate something that had been in motion for a year.

Ravinica Lindeen had her family. In her mind, we had rescued her from her pedestrian life living an insignificant existence. Rescued her from her wicked stepfather—a manallof her mates wanted to slay—and her mother’s vindictive wishes and her half-brothers’ cunning.

Silvermoon had replaced the dead weight in her life with people she loved. In doing so, becoming part of her pack, I had discovered how deep my feelings for her truly went.

I would go to the ends of the earth, commit horrible atrocities without batting an eye, for her sake. She only need ask, and I would cut a man’s throat and not blink twice, if it was what she needed.

That kind of visceral attachment and obsession was dangerous, probably unhealthy, and certainly something I’d never felt before. It alarmed me . . . because it made mefeelthings I’d never felt, too.

When you cared for no one, you didn’t care what happened to you or anyone else. That was why everyone thought I was psychotic—because I had gone through lifeuncaring.

But once you found your person—that being you can’t live without—theneverythingmattered. The sensations and emotions running through me were too big to ignore now.

She had changed me, this half-dead bloodrender, scarred and ugly and twisted. Just like she had changed the others.

With these new emotions rolling around in my belly, there was something else I needed to do. We had gotten the fun out of the way, the coupling that needed to happen before we could move forward as a unit.

Ravinica had Lady Elayina to see. The others said they would go with her, and Rav bit her lip anxiously. I could tell she did not want to burden them with more work, and wanted Grim, Sven, Arne, and Corym to rest. Perhaps she simply wanted some alone time with the ancient half-elf from the cave-tree in the Niflbog.

The others wouldn’t allow it. After everything we’d been through—after getting separated from me and nearly losing me when I first escaped the Dokkalfar—no one was going to let Ravinica out of their sight again.

The stakes were too high, the dangers too great. We didn’t know the Ljosalfar well enough to trust them.

I felt content knowing she’d be in good hands with those four. I begrudgingly told her I was needed elsewhere for a short time, and she stared at me with those dark gold eyes and nodded, understanding.

The girl cupped my gaunt cheek, rose on her tiptoes, and kissed me lightly.

“Ravinica Lindeen has her family.”

My own words cycled back to me.

And I must reconcile with mine.

I took the short walk from the spring-hold to the recovery den where Zentha had taken Kelvar the Whisperer.

Our dwelling was located in a circular town square. Other shops, buildings, and green-roofed structures lined the cobblestone road next to our lodge. In the center, a grand elven statue, copper in color, struck a fierce battle pose. The statue was nude, with a resting cock—which I only noticed with some peculiarity because the statue also had breasts.

Letting out a hum of acknowledgement, I realized this must have been a symbol of one of the spirits Corym had talked about, anin’kylin, or intersex elf. Perhaps it was even the monarch here, Vaalnath.

The weather was balmy and serene in the nighttime hours. Unlike the green-hued daylight, night was bathed in purple and silver, much like Midgard. Two moons straddled the sky overhead, one to my right, and a smaller orb left.

In front of the recovery den, two blue-robed elven ladies waited, dressed in their skimpy leg-slit dresses with their hands clasped in front of them. Despite them wearing the garb of healers or handmaids, I suspected everyone in Heira could fight, and that these women were guardians of the infirmary just as much as they were nurses.

I stopped in front of them, clearing my throat. I probably could have used a translator before heading over. “I am here to speak with the human man brought in a few hours ago. The one with the long dark hair and dark clothes.”

The woman to my right smirked. “We know who you speak of, round-ear,” she said in a slightly accented tone. Honestly,her accent was less pronounced than Corym’s, which I found interesting.

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