CAIN
Cain grumbled to himself. She was right. If he was going to be tied to this stranger for the rest of his life, then he was going to have to ensure that this alliance worked.
He was going to be the next alpha. It was his responsibility to make sure his people had peace in their future.
Despite the quiet the pack had enjoyed for most of his lifetime, they all knew they were now on the brink of war if this alliance fell through. A few bloodthirsty warriors had gotten ahead of themselves and now the Adaryn and Vargar were in this position. Cain hadnât started the fight, but he was going to make sure it was finished.
Once more he turned to look in the direction of the forest. He let his flesh turn into fur as he fell on all fours and ran into the forest on his paws. His claws dug into the fresh dirt as he ran, and the wind ruffled his fur as he sped through the underbrush.
This forest was different than what the Vargar had back home. The trees smelled different, and the animals were smaller. Cain was used to hunting shadow elk and giant rabbits, not the night hogs and laughable hare on this side of the canyon.
Day turned into night as Cain stalked through the surrounding forest to catch the trail of something he deemed worthy of hunting. Even if his kill wouldnât matter to the bird, it would matter to him and the rest of the pack. His fellow warriors could mock him if he didnât do something mildly impressive.
He was going to be the next alpha and he needed to show that he was able to provide for his mate, even if she had been chosen for him. Even if he didnât like her.
As the massive wolf stormed through the forest, his mind began to wander. Cain had to admit that he was curious about the Adaryn he was going to be tied to. What would she look like? What color would her feathers be? Would she be kind? Would he be able to trust her?
If she didnât like him, perhaps she would just fly away and leave him.
The wolf let out a beastly huff that could have been a laugh. As snobby as the Adaryn were, he wouldnât be surprised if the bird up and flew away from the sight of him.
He wasnât sure how long heâd been running through the woods anymore. It was deep into the night. Or perhaps it had been days. He didnât know.
He scented something interesting. The rest of the pack had left him alone up until this point, but he could hear their howls in the distance as they attempted to call out to him.
His nose lifted to the air. A monstrous snarl slipped through his sharp teeth. His red eyes turned in the direction of several creatures shuffling through the debris of the forest floor.
Instinct took over and the thrill of the hunt snapped into place as Cain began to thunder through the forest. His paws flew over the ground as he moved toward the herd of boar oblivious to his existence and intent on killing the next thing he saw.
***
FREYA
A day passed, and Freya kept herself tucked away in the room she occupied at her fatherâs mansion. As time blurred around her, she took on the stoic face of one ready to do their duty.
She wanted to see her father, but he was always busy. Lonan never stopped to question his daughter on why she had been with Aurik at the palace. She wondered if he couldnât face her. Was Raga right, that he loved her? Or was Raga being kind by saying their parents loved her? She wasnât sure they did.
Before the upcoming winter was over, Freya would be tied to the ancestral enemy of her people and across the border, hidden deep within mountains sheâd never seen.
Freyaâs few belongings were still mostly packed from the last move. She was told it would only be a few days until they came to get her.
In the meantime, she sat at her motherâs bedside. She again wondered at what Raga would think of the situation, or if her sister would have let it happen. Freya knew if Raga was still alive, her sister would kill to stay at her side, no matter what.
Most days, Kestrel came. She created more clothing for Freya to take with her.
Freya didnât have the heart to tell her new friend that she had no idea whether sheâd ever wear the highs of Adaryn fashion where she was going. Freya enjoyed the company of the girl and felt a twinge of sadness that sheâd be leaving before she had the chance to spend much time with her new friend. Today was the last day she would see Kestrel.
âFreya, would you like to see the wedding dress?â Freya knew Kestrel was trying to sound excited about the dress she had worked on, but not why it was needed. âIf not, I understand. Itâs not exactly time to wear it yet.â
âI wish I could, but I donât think Iâm ready. Iâm sorry.â
âPlease donât apologize. Ladies arenât always happy to wed. This is the hardest one Iâve helped to make. Not every day you make a dress that will be worn in a ceremony to ensure peace between two warring races.â
âI have no doubt itâll be lovely. Youâve listened to me and taken into account what I like. Iâll have more clothes for the next few years than Iâve had in my entire life.â
âOnly the best for a soon-to-be princessââ Kestrel was interrupted by a multiple loud voice attempting to speak over one another.
Freya opened the bedroom door and walked to the top of the stairway to see several Valkyrie, guardsmen, and members of the council all trying to talk to Lonan at once. Freya turned back to the room before she could be spotted.
âKestrel, I think itâs time.â Freya leaned against the door. âI think theyâre here to get me. Are my things packed?â
âYes, theyâre all here.â
The voices began getting closer as the group downstairs came to retrieve their peace offering.
Kestrel was wrapping her arms around Freya in a tight hug. The door was opened. Alvyna stood in the doorway adorned with her armor, a scowl on her face.
Freya was surprised to see her. They hugged.
âThey really had the nerve to ask me to take you out there. Iâm supposed to lead the party to where the Vargar are camped.â Alvynaâs scowl turned into a morose frown. âThey want me to be responsible for handing my dead loverâs sister to the very ones who killed her! Itâs a sick joke. Sorry.â The warrior removed her helmet and threw it in the direction of the fireplace where it clanged against the stone wall.
âRaga did what she had to do for her people, and now we will do the same. I donât want anyone else to die, Alvyna.â Freya picked the winged helm off the floor and gave it back to the Valkyrie. âAnd now itâs time to go. Iâm as ready as Iâll ever be.â
Alvyna took her helmet and begrudgingly put it back on. âYour sister was right. Youâre as brave as she ever was.â
Her father didnât even find her to say goodbye.
Freya was bundled in a dark fur cloak as she was carried to the border where the Vargar encampment was. The day was cool. The flight was long, and the group of Adaryn was flying fast with unspoken rule that they wanted to get this ordeal over with.
No member of the royal family had been appointed to join their party. Freya was more than thankful. It hurt to think sheâd never see Aurik again, but it was probably for the best.
By midday Freya could make out the line of a distant mountain range. She knew Vargar made their home in those very mountains, on the other side of a deep canyon the Valkyrie patrolled. It was out there where her sister had died.
They landed in a small clearing at dusk not far from the canyon. The trees in this part of Adaryn territory were all types of tall evergreens that were smaller than the trees the colony made their homes in.
âTheir encampment is a short walk through the trees. No doubt they would have seen us land. Theyâre supposed to send a sort of greeter to guide us in through the temporary camp theyâve set up,â Alvyna was telling Freya.
Then Freya heard rustling in the underbrush at the edge of the small clearing. Her eyes narrowed in on dark shadows approaching.
Fear blossomed in Freyaâs chest as she caught sight of the beastly form of a Vargar for the first time in her life. The illustrations of their kind did them no justice in just how terrifying and large they really were. They were the equivalent of massive wolves that could stand on long hind legs, but so much more. Four of them had emerged from the tree line and stood to look at the envoy of Adaryn.
Alvyna held her hand out for Freya.
Freya let Alvyna squeeze her hand. She was trembling like a leaf in the wind. She felt like her legs would collapse underneath her at any moment.
âWe have to go to them,â Alvyna said. âThese arenât the ones who killed your sister.â
Freya nodded and followed Alvyna. When they started walking to the four Vargar standing at the line of trees, it seemed as though her legs were working under someone elseâs command. Freya was glad to have Alvynaâs strong hand to hold her up. Without it, she was sure that she would have fallen.
Freya admired how easily the Vargar moved through the underbrush of the forest while the Adaryn had to pick their way around the fallen debris and overgrown brush. It was easy to see the beasts ahead were used to the difficulties of forest overgrowth while her people would prefer to be in the air.
It would have been simple for the Adaryn to fly directly into the camp. But the Vargar had wanted to walk the Adaryn into their temporary camp.
She tried to breathe normally, but when they passed through the thickest of the forest at the edge of the canyon, they came to another clearing where a few ancient stone columns were crumbling. Freyaâs eyes widened as she took in fantastic tents unlike anything sheâd ever seen before. They were tactfully crafted together with cream and dark red or green fabrics and a rounded top.
While being led into the camp, she noticed the Vargar there looked different. The four who had met them in the clearing looked like wolves. Now Freya was seeing men and women who looked similar in body to the Adaryn, with only subtle differences. All the same, the history her people told of them being dangerous and violent made her spine shiver in fear.
~What was going to happen to her here?~
The Vargar were a tall and tanned people wearing furs and soft fabrics adorned with buckles and leather straps. Many of them had their faces painted, and little jewels or silver bands woven into their hair. Those not wearing clothing were transformed into their more beastly form.
Freya felt dark glowering eyes on her as her party made their way farther to the center of the camp where the tents seemed to be spaced farther apart.
When they got closer to the center, she saw why they were farther apart. At the center of the camp were rows of long makeshift tables where hundreds of Vargar were communing and drinking. At the forefront of the tables was a massive wooden throne-like chair.
Freya audibly gasped when she saw the incredible woman sitting upon the throne with her deep-red hair falling around the layers of black furs she wore.
This could be none other than the wolf-mother. Sheâd heard their people called their kings the alpha.
This regal woman didnât move from her chair. She barely paid any attention to the Adaryn in their midst. An air of hostility was permeating the air as the age-old enemies stood in each otherâs presence.
Silence took over the camp as Vargar surrounded the Adaryn with wide, glowing eyes.
Freya heard growling and teeth gnashing. She thought perhaps the idea of peace was always going to fail. Perhaps this was how she and Alvyna and the other soldiers would die.