Page 83 of Blood of Ancients

The stout warrior chuckled with a glint in his eyes. “Doubtful, Whisperer.” He nudged his chin over Kelvar’s shoulders, to where Corym and I stood. “You lose the elf, you’ll never see him or his weapons again.”

“I don’t plan on losing the elf, friend.”

Axel chuckled as he wandered off. “Aye. It’s no matter to me if you do, mate. He probably fits in with his own people better than he does here, anyway.”

Then he was gone, leaving us with a conversation between two Hersirs how Iexpectedit to go. Some back-and-forth chatter, nothing alarming or threatening.

We left Gharvold Under to let Hersir Osfen prepare for his Advanced Team Tactics class, which I would be missing for the foreseeable future. He had given me an extension to his class when I was bedridden, and now he was being forced to do itagain for a situation out of his control—one that Gothi Sigmund had ordered.

Corym moved slower since leaving the dungeon, which added to the time it took us to exit the academy. I grew more anxious as the minutes dwindled away.

He tried not to show the pain on his face, once he was fully clothed in his soft elven tunic and pants, but I knew him too well by now. He could present a stoic, regal air, and only I could see through it to the pain he was nursing.

Pain, and also . . . excitement. He kept assuring me he was fine for traveling. I wasn’t sure if I believed him, because I knew limping his way through the treacherous snowfall could endanger all of us. He knew that too.

When Grim made mention of it on the way out of the academy, Sven chuckled and said, “You can ride the bear if your legs stop carrying you, elf.”

Arne laughed, and I smiled.

It was good to have my mates back, even if they annoyed the shit out of each other.

Corym said, “I would never lower myself to such an undignified position on my own accord . . .” As he trailed off, I looked over at him, raising my brow. “. . . but I would not turn down an invitation if it was offered.”

We paused, and then I burst out laughing, which was contagious to Arne, and even Sven.

Finishing his laughter, Sven clapped Corym on the back and made him wince. “It’s all right, pointy-ear, it was simply your time for the rite of passage.”

“Rite of passage?” Corym asked, not reacting to the slurring title of “pointy-ear” that got my blood boiling.

Sven smirked. “We’ve all been fucked over by the academy as tests to stay by Ravinica’s side.” He tossed a thumb over hisshoulder at the others trailing behind us. “Arne was held captive and mindshaped by our dastardly leader here, Kelvar.”

“I was also imprisoned and beat up by you and Grim . . .” Arne pointed out in a mutter, trailing off.

“Aye, but that had nothing to do with the academy. That was just for fun.” Sven beamed at the elf beside him, ignoring Arne’s complaint. “Grim was falsely accused for murders and imprisoned, and never jailed for the one he actually commited!”

“Low blow, wolf,” Grim murmured.

“Magnus was taken and tested like a lab rat because of his spooky magic blood,” Sven continued, willy-nilly throwing everyone’s painful stories into the open, like the asshole he was.

When he fell silent, Corym glanced over with a peaked brow. “And what’s your story, Sven?”

The wolf shifter blinked at him, acting like he didn’t hear him. “Hmm?”

“What was your rite of passage to stay bylunis’ai’sside?”

Sven babbled for a moment, cheeks slightly blushing.

I laughed.

Grim shouted out, “He doesn’t have one. Because he’s a whiny mongrel.”

“I had to stay in the infirmary and listen to you bellyaching bastards fordays!” Sven cried out, trying to defend himself.

My laughter only grew at his discomfort, being put on the spot.

Arne said, “Doesn’t count, unless the time you walloped me also counts. Theacademydidn’t do that to you.”

Sven flared his nostrils. “Well I sure as Hel didn’t do it to my damn self.”

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