FREYA
Only a few days had passed since the Adaryn had come to check on the status of what they assumed was still an uneasy peace. They were still afraid of the Vargar and what might happen. No one wanted war.
With Ivar on the loose, the Adaryn were more on edge than they had been in years. Freya had heard different stories about how heâd gotten loose. Most said it was the Adarynâs fault, but a few were willing to blame the Vargar who were supposed to be guarding him. Freya didnât know what to think. She just wanted him under control.
Even now, she hated Ivar with every fiber of her being. She couldnât understand how Ivar and Vistra could be siblings. They were so different.
Vistra, the wolf-mother to the Vargar, their unwavering alpha. All she wanted was peace. It was her dream for her people to not have to look over their shoulders for their entire lives awaiting an attack from above. Hearing about that was news to Freya. She had always been told the Valkyries were a force that only defended the Adaryn people and their land. But the Vargar made it sound like the Adaryn forces sometimes led attacks, over the years.
Freya didnât entirely care whose fault the war was at this point. It had been going on for generations, and she intended to put a stop to it. Vistra said she would rather settle down and live out the rest of her days surrounded by a litter of grandchildren.
And Ivar was the exact opposite. Vistra told Freya of how he was born the runt of the pack. Heâd spent his entire life fighting to become a warrior the pack could respect. Their sibling relationship was good, until Vistraâs mate died, and all she wanted after his death was peace. To never lose a loved one again.
But Ivar wanted to avenge the life of every wolf lost to the hand of an Adaryn. Heâd built a small following of wolves who went with him, against Vistraâs orders. This led to where they were now.
Raga was dead. Freya was given away. Some form of peace was being made as each day went on. Cain was doing his part to bring the pack together and plan a beautiful future.
The day Freya had been given over to the Vargar was the day Ivar had disappeared. Vistra and Cain had told Freya that he was intended to be given over to the Adaryn. Part of the peace agreement was that they would take the one who had instigated the battle. But Ivar had escaped.
Cain told Freya that his uncle was dangerous. He went on patrols with his fellow warriors for hours every day, guarding the campsite and searching for any sign of Ivar in the Adaryn territory.
When Aurik and Alvyna had visited only days ago, they told Vistra that Ivar had to be found. At any cost. He was a risk to the peace they were trying to build and if he wasnât found and contained, he would lead another attack.
***
The days got colder, and as they did, Cain got warmer. The immediate attraction between them was turning into more than just the physical.
Freya could feel the heat of him sneaking his way into her heart. Every time he emerged from the woods or joined her in their tent, a new heat bloomed inside of her entire being. If he wasnât patrolling or training, Cain was at Freyaâs side.
He began looping her into the plans of the pack with his mother. What they were doing that day. Who was going with who and where to hunt or search for Ivar. What they were doing to plan for the Adaryn ceremony or their seasonal hunt.
Each day Vistra took steps to groom and train Freya on what it meant to lead the pack, and what would be required. Vistra had grand plans of extending Freyaâs knowledge of Vargar culture once they returned to the mountains. There was too much planning to be done now.
But now that Freya knew Ivar was a threat, it made it all the harder to sleep at night. Even with Cain keeping her near exhaustion in bed and keeping her warm when the air at night was frigid, sleep didnât come easily.
Knowing Ivar was lurking out there somewhere made the nightmares come back. She dreamed of the beast with bloodied claws tearing her to shreds. Feathers and flesh flew through the air. Blood splattered the ground, followed by soundless screams. She called for help. No one answered.
Every morning Cain was there. Holding her tight as they both said nothing. Just loving each other and understanding their need to have one another. Though he seemed like a man who could be rough, he was undeniably gentle. Each feather-light touch and kiss sent Freya deeper into a feeling she was beginning to believe was love.
She wished she could tell her sister that she was falling in love. There were so many things she wished she could tell her sister.
***
Cain was crouched down behind Freya, picking at the overgrown grass and weeds in the woods. Freya was comfortably picking mushrooms and herbs for the day. It brought a smile to her lips to have him with her even though she was doing something so simple and mundane.
It was a cold day and they both wore thick fur coats.
Ivar was lurking out there. His scent was picked up every so often in the woods. No matter how far they went to find him, the trail went cold. He was clever, as was to be expected from the brother of the alpha. Perhaps he was plotting something. He must have allies in the pack, others who wanted revenge or questioned the wolf-motherâs leadership. But nobody would say who they were.
Freya turned to Cain and smiled. A cold breeze rustled some of her pale hair loose from her braid, and she giggled while pushing it out of her eyes.
âMy mother tells me the Adaryn believe weâre hiding Ivar from them. Did they say anything to you?â
She frowned. âNo. It would be like them to lie, though.â She looked down at her basket. âLook.â She started to tell him about the colorful bits of fungus in her basket that were mixed up with greens sheâd collected earlier.
Cain smiled. âYouâre adorable. I love how happy simple things make you. I want you to always be happy. No matter what it takes. Iâll keep you safe from Ivar.â