Chapter 7 | Arne

Chapter 7

Arne

I LOUNGED IN MY ROWING seat, reclined with my head propped up against the hull, one knee bent, my other foot crossed over it. As I lazily kicked my foot in the air, and my man Rolf did the rowing for both of us, I kept my eyes on the new girl.

Eirik had been quick to disembark the shores of Selby Village once she flopped onto the boat like a beached seal. Seeing her sweaty and half-drenched in ocean water with her graceless entrance had made me chuckle to myself.

This one was intriguing, to say the least. Beautiful in an unbreakable way. She looked strong for a lass—stronger than me, perhaps. Then again, I'd never been known for my brute strength.

There was a roguish glint in her eyes while she spoke with her brother, Drengr Eirik Halldan. The broad-shouldered son of Hallan had been made "warrior," or Drengr, in his second year at Vikingrune. It was impressive.

Still, I was more drawn to the new girl. The sparkle in her eyes told me she had done something wrong to get here, which I respected. In my opinion, people needed to do whatever they could to get ahead. I had always been opportunistic in my own way, and Ravinica Linmyrr seemed a kindred spirit.

Besides the prettiness of her face, it was also the hue of her hair that gave her away as a half-blood, bog-bred outsider. Streaked silver, like a blacksmith's sword that's been hammered and beaten, leaving a perfect sheen of impurities behind. I smiled at the verbose thought, thinking her hair alone would be worthy of a song. Maybe I'd write it once we returned to the academy.

Her hair color showed her to be elven in blood. At least partly. Ljosalfar, or light elves, typically had shining platinum or silver hair. Dark Dokkalfar elves had a more brackish hue, sometimes verging on green.

Interestingly, Ravinica had a bit of both. Silver, yet when she turned a certain way and the moon hit her right, I saw that glint of darkness streaking through it.

She'll have a tough time ahead of her for that reason alone, being so obviously of elven descent—whether it's her name or her hair that gets her in trouble. Add to that her defiant posture and attitude, and I already liked her.

Eirik had spoken about her on the way over here. He had read the initiate letter given to him by academy superiors before we arrived in Selby. He'd been dismayed to learn his resilient half-sister would not be joining the Gray Wraith instead of his lackluster, sniveling younger brother.

I had never liked Eirik much. He was too goodly and altruistic for me. That being said, if getting closer to Eirik would bring me closer to this beautiful creature . . . I may have to bite the bullet.

Ravinica kept to herself as our longship sliced through the sea away from Selby. Unlike other boats that weren't magical, this one guided itself. The oarsmen made it go faster, I supposed, but I didn't feel like busying and tiring myself to shed a few extra minutes from our travel. I'd rather sit, ponder, and watch.

Finally, we had someone on board worth watching.

As we carved through the fjords that would bring us to the wider ocean, I tilted my head and kept inspecting Ravinica Linmyrr, who stood starboard, staring out, looking awestruck. I asked myself, What in all the gods is she looking for out there, when we're surrounded by fog and mist? She can't see shit.

Her childlike wonder was endearing. I supposed for someone who had never left their little village, anything outside it was amazing and earth-shattering. Even mist and fog that surrounded us and made visibility impossible just a few feet past the railings of the ship.

My rowing bench was less than ten feet from her. Where she stood, perched at the side of the ship, I was granted a lovely profile view.

The woman had curves to make a man forget his own name. No amount of loose-fitting clothes could hide it. Thick in the thighs, a plump ass that miraculously looked both soft and firm at the same time. A round bust and strong arms and shoulders. A pretty face darker than many pale-folk, with some color to her cheeks. And of course the hair—long, swishing in the breeze like tendrils made of moonlight.

I wondered if she realized how gorgeous she was. I figured she didn't, likely having been ridiculed her entire life. I'd known a half-elf before, and if her life was anything like his had been, it wasn't enviable.

A protective urge settled inside me, matching my frown. It was odd, because I never felt protective.

"Keep staring and she'll notice," Rolf grunted behind me as he rowed.

I scowled over my shoulder at the big man. "Maybe I want that, Rolf." I shook my head. "She certainly won't if she keeps her back to everyone."

"Aye, foolish start, given what she is."

I glared at him again. How the hell would he know? The cunt was an initiate without any damn experience. What would he know of half-bloods?

Before long, I saw the first sign of trouble, approaching her from behind. Instinctively, I sat up straighter. My lazy foot over my knee came down, my eyes narrowed.

The man approaching Ravinica was a new recruit himself. Part of that gods-forsaken Torfen pack of wolf shifters, who infested our academy grounds like multiplying rodents.

I knew who he was because of his family name—Torfen. Ulf, was it? What the fuck do you think you're doing messing with my pretty statue? At the same time, I thought, This is why you don't show your back to strangers, girl. You thought you could escape your problems by escaping your village? Foolish.

Ulf growled in a savage way behind Ravinica. It was ballsy, since the girl's brother—the only Drengr on board, captaining the ship—wasn't far at the prow.

I realized what this uncreative brute was doing. Trying to make a name for himself early on. I see who you are, Ulf Torfen. This is why you don't start fights with people you don't know. When will your stupid fucking pack realize that?

I was upright now.

Ulf growled again, like the animal he was, as if thinking Ravinica was ignoring him.

Ravinica blinked. The firm statue I'd been analyzing for nearly an hour broke, and a pang of loss hit me.

You were worthy of a painting in that pose, Ravinica.

The girl turned to face Ulf. He was taller than her, though not stronger looking. Yet I knew the savagery of the wolves. They couldn't be underestimated. I knew essentially nothing about Ravinica, conversely, which was why she intrigued me so much.

"Yes? Can I help you?" Ravinica asked.

I smiled. Her voice was as pleasant as her face. I'd expected something gruff, given her build. She had an air of confidence and femininity in her tone. It made my cock twitch, and I shifted my weight.

"My name is Ulf Torfen."

My smile flipped and my cock went limp. Ulf's voice, by comparison, was exactly what I expected: stupid, rough, try-hard. Like he was trying to act older than he was, the damn cub. He was much too loud, making sure the whole longship heard him.

A few faces at the rowing benches twisted over their shoulders to look.

"Is that name supposed to mean something to me?" Ravinica asked, defiant. When she noticed Ulf's bare arms flexing beneath his sleeveless vest, she shook her head. "Sorry. It's been a long night. My name is Rav—"

"I don't give a shit," Ulf grunted. "You don't belong here, bog-breed."

Ravinica's shoulders slumped. For a moment, I saw the fight go out of her, and I briefly wondered if I had sized the woman up completely wrong. My heart sank.

Then she sighed and lifted her chin. I realized I'd had it wrong: She wasn't giving up, she was vexed.

I would be too, if I took to the ocean to escape my name, only for some bottom-feeder from a shithole village to follow me across the waves. Give the lass a fucking break. I knew none was coming.

"I belong here as much as any other man or woman, Ulf," Ravinica said, pursing her lips. To her side and slightly behind her was her spear, leaned against the rail. Her fingers twitched in that direction.

I had no doubt she was fast, but fast enough to grab the spear before Ulf—only five feet from her—lunged?

I tapped my chin, curious.

"I was victorious in my village's trials and tribulations," she said. "I scored highest on all marks."

"So did I," Ulf answered. "My family's name from Skarth Village is known throughout—"

"Bullshit," I called out, standing from my bench.

Their heads whipped over. More rowers looked too, hearing a new voice join the fray. From the front of the ship, Eirik turned. He was still too far to do anything immediately, and he probably wouldn't even if he could.

I sauntered toward them from my bench, moving lithely like a leopard in the trees.

"What did you say to me?" Ulf growled.

"You heard me, nepo-baby. You aren't here because of merit. You're here because of your name. The lass is here despite her name. You are not the same."

"Why you little fucking—" Ulf cut himself off and advanced toward me.

Two long strides, then four, and he was close.

Swiftly, I raised a hand and Shaped the air around me with a few quick gestures of my fingers. With my free hand, imperceptibly fast, I drew power from the portal drawn by my rune—from the primordial realm of Niflheim itself, the land of ice and snow—and motioned toward Ulf Torfen.

Ice crackled along the floorboards like a spider's web and curled around his boots, rising up to his shins and knees before stopping and solidifying. Only stopping because I told it to, hardened into immovable glaciers.

The ice blockade stilled Ulf's advance immediately. His momentum pitched the upper half of his body forward, and his arms pinwheeled to keep him upright. He growled at me with dripping teeth, ready to shift.

I glanced up at the moon to see how strong he'd be if he shifted. The mist surrounding the Gray Wraith was blocking anything but a murky glow from up high.

"Fucking runeshaper," Ulf growled, writhing comically but going nowhere. He bunched his hands into fists. "Coward. Unblock me and fight me like a man."

I put my hands on my narrow hips. "The way I see it, you have three choices here, Ulf. I could push you backward and snap your legs in half, since that ice isn't going anywhere until I tell it to. Would you like your shin bones to be jutting out of your kneecaps?"

Ulf's eyes bulged, face paling. "W-What—"

His tune had changed quite fast.

"Or I let the girl push you forward, and you'll get the same thing but the bones bursting out the backs of your knees."

"No bones!" he wailed, hands flailing.

"No bones about it, indeed," I said with a small nod, circling the younger man. "Third choice, I let the lass shank you with her spear. End it all real fast."

Over Ulf's shoulders, Ravinica looked stunned. She was nearly as pale as the scared wolf shifter.

I counted on my fingers, frowning. "Shit. Looks like that's all three options."

When I smiled devilishly at Ulf, he frantically tried to squirm his way out of the ice boots rooting him to the ground.

"What in all hells is going on over here?" Eirik roared from behind Ravinica. "Arne, release him. The whelp's a fucking initiate, for Odin's sake."

I shrugged nonchalantly. "A bully, too. Like the rest of these Torfen scum—"

"There will be no blood spilled on the Gray Wraith, iceshaper."

I pouted. "You're no fun. It's your sister he's harassing. Alas." With a flourish of my hand, I dispelled my rune and the ice melted into the floorboards.

Ulf rubbed his legs and knees, and then glowered at me before scurrying off to another part of the ship to lick his wounds.

Eirik glanced at his sister. "The hell, Vini?"

"I didn't do anything!" she yelled, throwing her arms up.

Eirik shook his head and wandered off. Ravinica rolled her eyes and snarled in frustration. I smiled at the girl as she hesitantly approached me, eyebrows raised.

I held out my hand. "Arne Gornhodr."

She didn't shake it. Instead, she looked at it, then up at my face. "I had that handled."

"Did you? I figured I'd make it easier for you."

"I don't need easy."

My hands rose in surrender. "We're not even at the academy yet, lass. Seems you're quick to make friends, quicker to make enemies."

"You're not my friend."

My chin twitched. I held back a snarky retort.

A quick beat of silence passed between us, and then she sighed. "Thank you. I suppose."

Humility is not a weakness, girl.

"I'm quick to make enemies through no fault of my own, Arne," she said.

"It's your name that's doing it."

"Aye. As I said—"

"No fault of your own."

She took the measure of me, staring into my face with her bright golden eyes that sizzled like the sun. "Maybe I should change it."

My head lurched, surprised at her answer, recognizing the look of a brat on her fine features. " Change it?" I said incredulously. "You can't just go changing your name—changing who you are."

"I am not my name, Arne."

"Then who are you?"

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see."

She pumped her hip out as she finished. Honestly, I greatly enjoyed our little battle of tongues. She was fiery in all the right ways, and I was even more drawn to her than before.

"Guess I will," I said, smirking at her.

Our eyes locked.

She looked away first. "That suffix on your last name. ‘Hodr,' was it? I've never heard of it."

"Aye. You've heard of the god Hodur, certainly?"

"The blind god of winter and darkness."

I bowed halfheartedly. "I was given that name for my specialty in Shaping ice. It's a type of rune . . ." I shook my head, cutting myself off. "You know what? You'll learn about it at the academy."

Her defensive posture relaxed, replaced by the same wonder in her eyes as when she'd been peacefully looking out at the misty sea.

"Fascinating," she murmured.

As a smile grew on her lips, one grew on mine, too.