Page 71 of Blood of Ancients

“And why is that?”

“Because harming me would put you at odds with Ravinica. We both know that’s not going to happen.”

My eyes glittered when they met his dark orbs.

“Gods-dammit,” he groaned, looking away. “Grim was right. I’m just as whipped as he is.”

“You love it, Torfen. You can act like a big bad asshole all you want, but I know you don’t hate me.”

He sighed, yet I noticed he didn’t deny it. Instead, he bowed his head to eat and mumbled, “Just stay quiet if you’re going to spy on me.”

I saluted him. “Sure thing, boss.”

There wasn’t a chance in Hel I wasactuallygoing to stay quiet. “Speaking of the Lanfens,” I said, dipping a spoon into some soup in front of me. “Any idea why they’re teaming up with your kin? Seems . . .” I pouted and shrugged, trying to play it off as inconsequential. “Alarming.”

“No,” he grunted, biting into some bread. “Frankly, I don’t give a shit what they’re up to. My father can choke on a bag of cocks for all I care.”

“Hm. Colorful.”

I slurped more soup.

It was going to be just as challenging as I thought wrangling any answers from Sven Torfen.

Three days later, with Ravinica out and about, attending her classes like a normal cadet—yet with her head on a turret—Imet up with her and Grim outside Hersir Axel Osfen’s Advanced Team Tactics class.

Since rejoining the land of the walking, Ravinica had not been sighted without Grim at her side. The huge stoic sentinel was always around, and I appreciated the protectiveness he provided her. The safety and comfort.

Would that I could, I’d be that man for her. Alas, my role was different in this little affair we had going on.

“Well, what do you have for me?” she asked.

“Corym is all right. I spoke to an old village friend of mine, Rolf Blisdan—”

“I remember him.”

“Right. You came on the same ship. His fieldwork is jailer-in-training. He’s watching the cells, so it didn’t take long for me to wrest some answers from him.”

Ravinica’s face took on a worried mien, her eyes blinking incessantly. “And?”

“The golden-haired god will be fine,” I assured her with a firm nod. It was hard not to call him a god when I’d seen what he could do with that cock—in my mouth, no less.

I had something of a crush on the elf. Nothing compared to Ravinia’s sheer lust and love for him, judging by the look on her face. But it was something.

“Tell me more,” she demanded.

“He was beaten up a bit. Nothing broken. Hersir Jorthyr can’t do anything too serious to him because Gothi Sigmund forbade it. Seems the Gothi doesn’t know how to use the elf yet, but I’m sure the time will come.”

Ravinica chewed on her lip. “Okay. I can live with that, I guess.”

“You’re going to have to for now, love.”

My little fox let out a deep breath and glanced up. “I have another job for you. Magnus was supposed to return from hisstint aboveground two days ago. Find out what the fuck is going on, please.”

Gods, with fires this big, even my skill with iceshaping wasn’t going to be enough to put them all out.

I developed my plan over the next day. Magnus still hadn’t returned, and neither had any of the other Huscarls from that troop, according to Hersir Osfen.

That was all the surly commander would tell me.

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