Page 141 of Blood of Ancients

“No, no, he was not Gothi at that time. He did not have the power, will, or knowledge of your existence to do such a thing. Otherwise he’d be dead, like the initial scientists who worked on you.”

I tilted my head. “And if he was dead . . .youwould have been Gothi, no?”

He grumbled something under his breath.

“What better way to assure nothing ever happened to me again, hmm?” I pried.

His piercing gray eyes shot over to me. “I never wanted that position, Magnus. I never wanted any of this. I just wanted Liviana!”

With a sharp inhale, I lurched. Fury showed in his eyes, and I wondered if his “psychosis” had led him to the same berserk state Grim dealt with.

Kelvar the Whisperer was already scary enough. But to have him be a berserker, on top of it?Gods have mercy.

“You say you stayed at Vikingrune Academy . . .” I said, trailing off. “Why?”

“To watch you grow. I broke you out of the testing sites and kept you close to the school. You were essentially raised in the underground tunnels of our academy, son. Which is why I place such high regard on the academyitself, not to any person pulling the strings. It was . . . as close to a home as you were ever going to get.”

I nodded, deep in thought. Finally, I understood more about my origins. Just like the rest of Ravinica’s mates, it was mired in grief, misery, and a horrible childhood.

Unlike those guys though, I couldn’t evenremembermine. How was I supposed to ever heal, or recover from the intense trauma Kelvar explained, if I never knew it?

Lifting my eyes from the ground, locking them with Kelvar’s unwavering, menacing gaze, I threaded my fingers together in front of me. “I need you to remove it, father. The amnesia.”

He blinked. A sound escaped his lips—choked, clipped. Surprised, because he’d never been called that before, and it affected him in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

And perhaps that was all Kelvar the Whisperer ever really wanted from me.

“I know, son,” he replied in a thick voice. “I know.”

He gestured me to him. I scooted forward, going to my knees to get eye-level with him. From his hospital bed, he reached out and put a bare hand on my scalp, closing his eyes.

I closed my eyes too, anxiety rippling up my esophagus like black bile.

“I’m sorry I did not do this sooner, Magnus.” He sighed heavily. “And I’m sorry for what it will do to you. I should have given you a chance to work through this on your own.”

His fingers were trembling on my head.

I lifted my hand, abruptly, and grabbed his wrist with a gentle hold. My eyes were open, his were too, and we stared.

“As you said, you were only doing what you thought was best, Kelvar. Trying to be a father.” I cleared my raspy throat, sniffing loudly to fight back the wave of emotion battering my dead heart. “I do not blame you for the wretchedness of my upbringing. In fact . . .” I gave him a slight smile. “It sounds like you were the one good thing to come of it.”

His eyes never left mine, but his face twisted.

A tear slid down Kelvar’s cheek then, his chin trembling. Unable to form words, he simply nodded in his gruff, distant way.

Then he plied his trade, his magic, his mindshaping—in a new and different way.

And I remembered.

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