Page 23 of Blood of Ancients

The bloodrender said, “What else aren’t you saying, wolf? Your father gave the order, but that’s not all . . . is it? There’s a reason he wanted to depose you after years of having you act as the Torfen pack leader.”

Sven cursed under his breath, scowling. “Fuck you and your perceptive—”

“Spit it out,” I ordered.

“They jumped me because I spend all my time with you, Ravinica.” He indeed spit the words out, with vitriol. “There. Happy?”

My shoulders slumped. “. . . No. Sven, I’m . . .”

“If you say you’re sorry, I’m going to let Dagny wheel my ass upstairs and throw me into the nearest snow patch.”

I wasn’t in a mood to smile anymore, or laugh.

Sven read my face, the fear in my eyes, and answered my question before I could ask it. “If you think I’m going to leave your side because of those weak fuckfaces, you don’t know me as well as I thought, menace. A little scuffling isn’t going to change a damn thing about me. Bastards should have killed me if they really wanted change.”

“D-Don’t say that!”

“Oh, don’t worry, girl, I’ll get my revenge on my brethren. I don’t want you or the usual suspects here worrying about me. Got it? There’s someone else missing from this little entourage who needs your help much more than I do right now.”

I blinked at him, my brow slowly scrunching to a furrow.

When our eyes locked, Sven gave me a tiny nod—almost imperceptible—and turned his head away. To the wall on the other side of his gurney, where no one stood, he said, “I’ll be right as rain tomorrow or the next day. Dagny, for all her faults, has me well in hand.”

This was a man who actively avoided pity. It was a feeling I knew well, so I wouldn’t shower him with it. My entire life had been humiliation at the hands of my kinsfolk, up until coming here.

Sven was one of the men who helped change that. He did it without letting me wallow in self-pity. He went from being asource of humiliation—as my bully—to a champion against it. A booster of my confidence, allowing me to lead the five of us even though we both knew he had more leadership experience than I did.

I wasn’t about to insult him by crying about how shitty his family was, how sorry I was, or anything like that.

I needed to respect his wishes for us to fuck off.

So we did.

On the way across campus, from the eastern region of Eir Under to the western cavern of Gharvold Under, we walked mostly in silence. We stayed mum about Sven’s situation, because all four of us knew he wouldn’t want us bitching on his behalf.

Except Arne. At one point as we trudged through the narrow halls, the iceshaper raised a finger. “The way that man can be a frosty asshole even while helpless on a gurney is truly astounding. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who is so skilled at narcissism.”

We chuckled—even Magnus, who rarely laughed about anything. Arne’s joke opened the floodgates.

“It’s why we love him,” I muttered with a crooked smile.

“Is it?” Grim said. “It’s whyyoulove him, sneak. It’s whyIcan’t stand the furball.”

“Yet you work better with Sven, your rival, than anyone else in the group,” I pointed out.

Grim grumbled to himself, not wanting to admit the truth of it. He repeated a phrase from earlier, as if it answered everything. “Competition breeds innovation.”

I appreciated the callback.

Glancing at Magnus, I said, “Tell me.”

The bloodrender blinked at me, lengthening his stride to walk abreast with me. “Tell you what, silvermoon?”

“Don’t be coy. You said you’re going aboveground. Why? For how long?”

“A week. For field duty, assigned to me by . . . Gothi Sigmund.”

I raised a brow.Why did he hesitate to say the Gothi’s name? Clearly he’s not telling me the whole story. These damn boys, not wanting to rock the boat. Do they think I can’t handle life without them? I spent more than twenty years alone, and I was fine!

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