FREYA
Freyaâs breath fogged around her as she tried to keep from tripping in the slippers that sheâd worn to match her dress. The ruined gown was weighing her down as she tried to get away. All those layers of soft fabrics were now soaking up the rain as if the entire dress were no more than a drenched dishrag.
Ivar had appeared in the space between her and the forest fire where Cain was currently fighting back the blaze with his fellow warriors. She had no option but to run in the opposite direction from where her potential saviors would have been. If her assumption that Ivar had started the blaze was correct, then heâd planned this attack perfectly. His prey had been separated from the safety of their pack.
Most of the wolves had been drawn to the flames to do what they could to keep it from reaching the camp. It had left Freya trapped between Ivar and the canyonâs edge. Neither option would ensure she made it out alive.
Freya wished she could fly. If she had wings, then escaping the monster at her back would have been a simple feat. She had enough of a head start that any normal Adaryn would have flown away without a second thought.
But she didnât have wings. All she could do was run.
That head start sheâd had moments ago had slipped away. Her breath came in ragged as Freya tried to run through the line of trees at the canyonâs edge. If she could run fast enough, maybe she could run around the camp and make it to the pack. Just maybe she could make it to Cain. If only she was fast enough.
Heavy paws were pounding on the damp forest floor. Each beat of those massive beastsâ claws on the earth were driving Freya further from safety and flooding her frame with a fear unlike anything sheâd ever experienced before.
The monster that was Ivar was getting closer. She could hear his massive body crashing into the brush behind her. It was all too easy to imagine his open jaws ready to catch her as the sound of his strenuous panting reverberated in her ears.
Despite the slight advantage Freya had in being small and nimble as she ran through the trees, she was no match for the sheer size of Ivarâs wolf and the distance he could traverse on paws.
Jaws snapped just behind her legs. Terror shot up Freyaâs spine, but she continued to run. For a moment she dared to look over her shoulder and then she couldnât help the scream that ripped from her throat as she saw Ivarâs fur-covered form leaping at her. Fangs flashed in moonlight. Claws reached forward, ready for blood.
He was going to kill her.
This was a true beast. One who would go against his leader just for revenge, and when he didnât get his way, heâd kill his own family. A true monster. This was the mongrel responsible for Freya losing her own beloved sister, and then starting the spiral that led to her landing in Cainâs lap.
Freya knew she couldnât die out here in the woods when sheâd only recently found true happiness.
Ivarâs claws grasped at empty air as he went soaring over his intended target.
Freya had used his leap as an opportunity to let herself slip to the ground and just barely miss Ivarâs jaws by seconds. She tried to control her descent to the wet ground as much as possible with the intent of continuing to run while Ivar was distracted.
His heavy body crashed into a bush and ripped the entire thing out from its roots deep in the soil. Freya needed to use this moment of him lying on his side in the torn shrubs and mud to run back in the direction of the fire.
However, her feet could not find purchase on the soft soil as she slipped and collapsed after trying to rise from the mud. Cold rain was pelting her down.
He threw himself onto her while she was already down. The air left her lungs as she was crushed between matted fur and freezing muck.
She could feel his wet nose press roughly into the back of her neck causing gooseflesh to raise across her skin. Her horror was growing, and she realized that she was now paralyzed with fear as Ivar began to lower his head. His sharp canines were inches from the back of her head, ready to crush her skull in his powerful jaws.
Fresh, hot tears spilled from her eyes and down her cool cheeks. Freya closed her eyes and waited for his jaws to crush her.
Just like what had happened to Raga during that battle on the border. Sheâd die like her sister, except she wouldnât be going down fighting. Freya was going to die cold and wet in the forest while being held down by a beast whose claws were tearing into the flesh of her arms. Ivar had already killed his own sister.
His hunger for bloodshed had no end in sight.
Then there was a low keening howl in the distance back in the direction of the Vargar camp site. The sound was full of heartbreak and sadness. More howls from mourning wolves followed and were almost washed away by the sound of the now heavily pouring rain.
The pack had found Vistra.
Loud keening could be heard coming in the direction of the camp. The sound was followed by wailing howls that echoed through the forest. The sound of grief caused an involuntary sob to wretch itself from Freyaâs chest when she heard it.
Ivarâs jaw snapped shut just behind her head, and the force of his empty bite sent air dancing across Freyaâs shoulder. All of the damp feathers down her back were pressing against her flesh in her fear. But then something started to happen. The oppressive weight of the monster at her back started to change as she heard bones cracking and flesh tearing apart. He was shifting on top of her.
Freya tried to take a breath. Her head was pushed down into the wet muck of the forest floor. Dead leaves were sticking to her drenched frame, and mud was sticking in her hair, all the while rain was starting to pound even harder into the trees above.
Her shoulder and back ached tremendously where claws had been pressing into her petite frame. But the relief was short-lived as rough and calloused hands grabbed Freya by the back of her hair and yanked her abruptly upright until she had stumbled to her feet with the force pulling at her.
Ivar jerked Freyaâs head in his direction to look back at him glaring down at her. She was in a daze, but still noticed his wild eyes leering at her and his nostrils flaring. He appeared to be truly feral.
âWe canât stay here. I canât risk them finding me yet, Iâm not ready to take Cain on with the entire pack backing him. Killing you will make him weak,â he sneered. He pulled Freyaâs face closer to his until his wreaking breath was blowing across her face and burning her eyes with its stench. He licked his cracked lips and jerked her head back before pressing his nose into the skin of her neck just behind her ear. âYou reek of my weakling nephew. Iâll take great pleasure in killing you, filthy bird.â
Freya spat in his face. In the heat of the moment, and with terror bubbling through her, it was all she could think to do.
Ivar wiped her spit from his grimy face and snarled his hot breath over her once more. His chest rumbled with a long growl as his face twitched in anger at her.
âIâm going to kill all of your fellow birds, just like I did your sister,â Ivarâs nose scrunched up and his face began to contort as if the beast within the man was trying to break free.
Freya could see in his eyes that he wanted to brutally rip her apart.
His anger and ideals that the Adaryn were his enemies were too far ingrained into his brain to try and talk any sense into him. As far as Ivar knew, it was his duty to kill Freya and her people, and it always would be. His rebellion had been thwarted when the two warring races had decided on peace, yet still he would not stop in his lifeâs assumed mission.
And for him to slap Freya in the face to say he was the one responsible for her sisterâs death left her shaking in rage.
~How dare he?~
First her sister was taken away. Then Freya was thrown into a new and unknown life. Then she lost a new member of her found family. Freya felt broken inside. As though she had been shattered into a million tiny pieces of glass being crushed under the foot of this dangerous man. Even now he held her head back at an agonizing angle to glare down at her with his teeth bared in threat.
âYouâre a monster. Even if you kill me now, they will come for you. The Adaryn will want you dead, as they already do. Now, youâve turned yourself into the enemy of your people by killing their alpha. No one will follow the path you pave with all the blood that is on your hands!â Freya shouted at Ivar with all the rage and confidence she could muster.
Just as Ivar clenched his fist tighter around her hair, there was a deep howl in the distance that made the feathers along Freyaâs spine rise up.
That was Cain.
Almost on instinct, Freya could recognize the sound of him. In his wolf form, he would howl at the loss of his mother. But the pack would now look to him for leadership and guidance. Cain was now the alpha.
And those howls were getting closer. Cainâs distinct growls met her ears, along with others. The rest of the Vargar would be following him as he came after Freya and the traitor who killed Vistra.