Valkyrie's Sacrifice (Academy of Immortals 3)

“Anything that happens during all of this is my business, Valkyrie, like it or not.”

“No, Marshal, it isn’t. I don’t know where your loyalties lie. Sure, you came back to find me, but you were also dying. You betrayed me—us. All of us, including Morgan and the Guardians. How dare you make demands.”

I narrow my eyes at the woman in front of me. She’s furious, letting loose on something she’s obviously wanted to say for a while. Her anger is dark—sexy. “Do you think it was easy falling in line under Roland? Could you really not see it was a ruse? Someone had to stay close to him, someone needed to be on the inside so that he didn’t let Victorine wipe us off the map.”

“You’re not that good of an actor. You’re greedy, Marshal. You want unlimited power, riches and women. You said it yourself, Roland could give you those things. The Immortals couldn’t.”

I laugh. “Gods, you’re foolish. Do you not remember when I saved you from Marielle berating you in the dormitory hallway?”

“How gracious of you, since the next thing you did was demand I clean your sex-stained sheets.”

I clench my jaw. The truth is on the tip of my tongue. Did I fuck any of the girls at the Academy while playing my game? No. I haven’t had anyone but the Valkyrie since being released from the Shaman. She’s the only one I want. The only one I desire. The thought of her body consumes and possesses me. Will I tell her that? Fuck no. Not when she’s keeping secrets from me, too.

I want to know the truth about those rings.

“If you really think so little of me, then why did you help heal me? Why do you think I’m still here?”

She eyes me warily, exhaustion evident on her gorgeous face. “I don’t know. I really don’t. There are pieces in this game that I don’t understand. You’re one of them.”

I reach out and touch her chin, feeling the zing of electricity shoot down my arm. Hildi swallows thickly, letting me know she feels it, too. Chemistry and attraction have never been our problem. Trust has always been the main issue. “Tell me one thing—is one of those rings for me?”

“It’s not for me to decide,” she replies, eyes shining. “Do you deserve one? Have you earned the right?”

To what? Wear the ring like my brother? To be bound to Hildi? I’d done her wrong by choosing Roland’s side at the Academy, even if it was for strategic reasons. Downstairs, I’d wondered how I could hurt her by flirting with the waitress. I’d let my jealousy become irrational, picking this fight with her. Do I deserve to wear one of the rings?

No.

I knew the answer. She’s right. I’m greedy. Petty. Jealous.

I’m not the kind of man Hildi needs in her life. Not now, maybe not ever.

I hold her eye, pale blue like a summer sky, then I bend, kissing her hard on the mouth. Sparks crackle between us and I wrap a hand around her waist, pulling her to me. Our tongues sweep against one another—a deep groan rumbles in my chest—and gods, I want her. I want this. I want all of it, but I release her, pushing her back against the door.

“Go take care of him,” I say, gruffly. “He needs to be ready for what lies ahead.”

I turn before she can reply, before I make this worse. Those rings—the bonds, they aren’t given lightly. They have to be earned. Agis earned his with his loyalty, to the point of near-destruction. I’m no good to the Valkyrie until I’ve proven myself.

If that’s even possible.

9

Hildi

Marshal storms off, and I make no effort to stop him. My lips burn from the kiss—my body always reacts to him. It’s

a curse, and it muddles my instincts. I know Morgan told me that he’s part of this, but I still don’t trust him.

How can I?

I enter the room and get a good look around. The space is incredibly small and feels even smaller with Armin’s massive frame stretched out on the bed. My anger soothes as I take in his bare, muscular chest. A thin sheet covers his hips, low enough for me to soak in his tight abs. Any wounds from the arena are gone—illusions from the tricks of Limbo. I feel his gaze on me as I walk to the small dresser. There, I remove the sheath strapped to my thigh and unlace my boots. There’s a basin of water on the tabletop and a bar of soap. I scrub my hands, removing the dirt and grime from the day. Or has it been days? I can’t tell. I pull the tie from my hair, letting it fall over my shoulders. I look at his reflection in the mirror, eyeing his body and his handsome face. Our eyes meet in the mottled mirror.

“What?” I ask.

“I like it when you look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you see me. The real me. You always have. In that place,” he swallows, “I couldn’t reach you no matter how hard I tried. I couldn’t get to you. I should have known it was fake because the Hildi in that arena never looked at me the way you did.”