Valkyrie's Harem (Academy of Immortals 1)

The unmistakable scent of sweat hits me before I even get to the training room door. I should find the smell repulsive but the musky, familiar odor draws me in. Physicality, using my hands, fists, feet, has always been part of my life. Just crossing the threshold makes me feel more balanced.

Various people are working out in the room. I keep to myself, not worried about the guys lifting weights over in the corner or the two girls stretching on the mat. I head to the punching bags, ready to let off some steam. I also need a distraction from what Marielle just said about Marshal.

She must be confused.

I pull on a pair of boxing gloves and strap them around my wrists.

Sex with Marshal is good—mind-blowing—what we had was a means to an end. Scratching an itch. An old-fashioned booty call. If anything, it muddies the waters with what the professor theorized. Marshal and I are far from having any kind of soul-melding relationship.

Armin, on the other hand. What we experienced was…wow. Two lost souls meeting in the middle. Seeing him let go and release some of his pent-up emotions had been amazing.

The two of us are definitely going to need to talk.

I stand in front of the swaying bag and take my first swing, then another and another. I pummel the bag, releasing all the pent-up stress of the last few days. Marshal, Marielle, fighting Agis in the ring. I let go of my worry about Marielle and my suspicions of my fellow classmates. I try to free my mind of obsessions over the stone and the fact we’ve made no progress since we arrived. I work my arms, my legs, and every other muscle in my body.

“You need to lift your elbow higher,” a voice says, breaking my concentration.

I spin, breathing heavy, fists raised defensively. Agis stands before me, shirtless, body ripped with corded muscle. He’s coated in a thin layer of sweat.

I turn away and resume my workout.

“When you drop your elbow, you lessen the impact of your punch.”

“My impact is fine,” I reply, slamming my fist into the bag. The chain shakes from the force.

I feel him shift behind me, his presence equal to one of a giant. Agis is huge, his frame actually causing a shadow from the gym lights. His hand lowers on my shoulder and he says, “Like this,” before mimicking the motion he wants to see.

Unfortunately for him, I didn’t ask for help.

I ignore the flare of heat that travels up my arm and take step back, smashing my heel on his foot. My elbow connects next, landing in his ribs, eliciting a deep grunt. Without pausing, I turn, raising my fist, angling it toward his gut. He’s too tall for me to punch in the face, but his stomach, rock hard and vulnerable, will do. My fist sails through the air, but it doesn’t land. Agis catches it in his massive hand. His eyes are dark, gray like steel, and he yanks me forward until my body hits his chest.

Gods, his muscles are big.

I glance up and see the smug smirk of satisfaction tugging at his lips. I wait a second for him to relax, to think he’s bested me, and then slip from his grip. It’s a perk of being small, sweaty, and fast; I get behind him and slash my feet at the back of his knees. He buckles but doesn’t full fall and I walk backwards, yanking off the gloves. It’s then that I realize the gym is empty.

“All of this because I offered a suggestion about your form?”

I shake my head. “Just a little payback for class the other day.”

&nb

sp; “You’re the one that volunteered.”

“Then maybe for the bullshit with Luke.”

He smiles and runs his hand through his dark hair. I can’t help but eye his body. It’s like he’s carved from marble, from his shoulders down over his curved chest, to the ladder of muscles on his abs. The sharp arrow of his “V” leads my eyes downward, where the only softness comes from the scattering of hair at his lower belly. A flare of curiosity overcomes me. I want to touch that hair.

“I don’t think either of us want to get into that again.”

He’s right.

We eye one another, bodies alert, both of us ready to pounce. “You don’t think I have what it takes to lead you guys, do you?”

“I think this is less about leadership and more about the Guardians not trusting us,” he admits, eyes roaming my body. “Not completely.”

“Should they?” I ball my fists, hoping to distract him. I can’t take the way he’s looking at me. Most men would be repulsed. I’m drenched in sweat and probably reek. Agis’s dark, broody eyes cling to me with intense interest.

“Should they what?”