Valkyrie's Harem (Academy of Immortals 1)

“Trust you?”

He reacts on the offensive, lunging at me with both hands. The sweat and quick reflexes allow me to get away but not before landing two more hits. I know he’s taking it easy on me, because not once has he really made a move. The low burning rage that he always carries is just beneath the surface. Christensen is right. This man needs balance.

“I think the instant we fell through that portal, all bets were off. The rules changed. I can only hope that you’re loyal to the cause.” I swallow. “And me.”

I take a series of swings, pummeling him. He blocks each one easily, his big hands knocking them away. I don’t really mean to inflict harm, I just have so much wound-up energy. I need to get it out. I may not be able to overpower him, but I can make a nuance of myself.

He must get fed up because a second later, he reaches out, slamming my chest with both hands. I stumble backward, scrambling to hold onto my footing. When I look up again, it’s not Agis standing in front of me.

It’s the God of Death.

He’s summoned his cloak, shrouded over his handsome face. His scythe is in his hand, curved and glinting.

“What are you doing?” I ask, feeling uneasy. One swipe of that blade and this is over. I’m over.

“You talk a good game, Valkyrie. You press and harass. You speak to me like I’m lesser, unworthy. People have lost their heads for less, you understand that, right?”

His voice is barely recognizable, deep and otherworldly.

I take a deep breath and brace myself, then step toward him, not stopping until I’m a few feet away.

“I understand that you’ve lived a thousand lifetimes with people trembling at your knees, begging to be spared.”

“But not you,” he says, voice a whisper. “Why aren’t you afraid?”

The angles of his face are harsh beneath the hood. I reach up and touch his chin. “Because I already lost the most important thing to me, Agis. There are days that death would be welcome. There are days when I called for it after Andi died. I’ve seen what the gods are capable of, including death. Camulus may have given you that title but in this realm and all others you’re still a man, immortal, but a man. You’re made of flesh. Your heart beats. And although I have no doubt you can strike down anyone in your path, I don’t think you’ll do that to me.”

His chin lifts and the cloak and scythe vanish. I hold the hard gray of his eyes. “Why not?”

“Because we’re the same. Lost. Angry. Confused.” I take his hand, still warm from holding his weapon. His hands are rough and there’s the slightest tremble underneath. “We both just want to feel something other than the pain of the past.”

“We’re not the same, Hildi,” he says, jaw tight. “I’m not a good person. I don’t feel guilt for my past like Armin, or long for the days of gluttony like Marshal. Camulus saw the darkness in me that day on the battlefield. He drew it out and bound it to my soul. Everything I touch turns to ash. Every realm I enter threatens to crumble, look what happened back home.”

I frown. “You think you’re the reason the Crusade is happening?”

“Why shouldn’t I? Destruction follows me. You do realize that the day Camulus found me, my entire regiment was slaughtered? Sparta fell, Hildi. I’m not a hero, I’m the reaper.”

I laugh, and he tilts his head in question. “You realize my job is to literally choose who dies on the battle field, who goes to Valhalla for eternity, and who is sent to nothingness. You’re not the only reaper here, Agis, you’re just the only one questioning your value.”

A spark flickers between us, one created from solidarity and understanding. His hand reaches for me, touching my cheek. My stomach twists with unmistakable want, that need to feel. I long to know the explosiveness of his body, experience everything he’s been holding back.

“Agis—” I start, wondering when was the last time a woman propositioned him. My heart hammers, my body craves. I want to see if Christensen is right. Am I the scale that balances these men. Am I the answer to—

“There you are,” a voice calls from the doorway. A shiver runs down my spine at the sound. Marshal. “Hildi, Armin sent me to find you. You’re on patrol duty with me tonight.”

I look over and see Marshal’s handsome face in the doorway. He’s dressed casually—out of uniform, but still looks deadly, with a slight, knowing grin on his face. I glance back at Agis, the wall between us snapped back into place, the connection between us lost.

“You should go,” Agis says. “And I should prepare for my lesson tomorrow.” He nods at Marshal. “Be careful.”

“Always,” the knight replies, not waiting for me to join him.

I stare at Agis again, wanting to hold on to the intensity between us, but the wall I’d pushed through is gone and the warrior is back in front of me. Dark and angry.

I grab my stuff and head toward the door. Marshal is up ahead, and I’m pissed he interrupted us. This guy is freaking everywhere, always popping up when I least need him and not around when I do.

I’m walking down the corridor when Marshal tosses out, “Don’t you look thoroughly worn out. Find another outlet for your aggression?”

“Why do you give a shit about my outlets?”