Hex Breaker (The Fenearen Chronicles Book 1)

by Taryn Noelle Kloeden

  She threw her arms around his shoulders and pressed her cheek to his chest. “I have parents. I have you and Silver. Don’t ever think I blame you for losing them. You want this war to end so no one else has to die. I want that too, Bayne. I’m just scared.”

  “I know.” His chin bristles tickled as he kissed her forehead, “I am, too.”

  Rayna pulled away. “You are?”

  “Of course. I know this is a risk; it won’t be easy. But Rayna, the right choice is rarely the easy one. The path to peace may be rocky, we may lose even more than we already have, but if there is a way, we must take it. I would have given anything to protect your parents, and I will give anything to protect you, and all of Fenear, now.”

  “So what happens now?”

  Bayne sucked in a breath through his nose. “You’ll find out tonight. Silver and I have heard from the Alphen council. We will make another announcement tonight. All I ask is that you keep an open mind.”

  Rayna bit her lip. “I can try.”

  Bayne squeezed her hand.. “That’s all I ask.” He glanced at the sun’s position. “I have a meeting with Gar and the other True Wolf leaders. I’ll see you tonight.”

  Her uncle disappeared into the southern forest, and Rayna made her way to Channon's den. Whatever else would happen, she needed to see him.

  “Ray, are you all right?” Channon dropped the boots he had been mending and crossed to meet her. “You look pale.” He lifted her chin, his concerned gaze searching her face.

  "I’m fine. I just have this sinking feeling about the alliance.” Rayna allowed Channon to guide her onto his pallet. “I understand why Bayne and Silver need to try, but I can’t shake this feeling that this is all wrong. What’s the matter with me? Am I such a coward?” As she spoke, unfamiliar images swarmed through her mind like half-remembered dreams—soldiers with golden snakes striking out from their breastplates, Densites burning, people and wolves covered in blood. Horrified, nauseated, unsure from where the pictures came, she shut her eyes and doubled over into Channon’s arms.

  “Ray, listen to me. Rayna!” Channon’s warm arm circled her back. His forehead pressed into hers. Breath returned to her lungs, and as she opened her eyes, tears splashed onto his neck. “Rayna.” His voice was soft as she gazed into his brilliant, cornflower blue eyes. “You are not a coward. You are the bravest person I have ever met. And the most stubborn,” he added with a crooked smile. “Put those together, and there is nothing you can't do.”

  She could not help but return his smile. She wiped her eyes and sat up, drawing in deep, steadying breaths, trying to erase the horrifying visions she'd just seen. She had to speak to Thera about her sleeping potion. Perhaps her nightmares reached her while she was awake because the medicine prevented them while she slept.

  With her tears dry, Channon's den resolved into greater clarity. He was far neater than she was. His leather and fur clothing rested in organized stacks beside his well-tended hearth. Clay cups dotted the mantelpiece along with a collection of knives for dressing prey. She had given him those for his fifteenth birthday, the day he had become a man according to their laws.

  Rayna glanced sideways at his familiar features. Fair bristles half a shade lighter than his suntanned skin flecked his chin and jaw. His nose, slightly bent from the time he had broken it falling out of tree, nevertheless looked right in his soft, high cheek-boned face. He noticed her stare, and she felt the heat rise in her neck.

  “What?” His mouth gave a self-conscious twitch.

  “Nothing. I just…” She cleared her throat to cover the fact that she did not know what she had intended to say. The day had already been stressful enough without her sudden urge to close the distance between them with a kiss. She wondered what his lips felt like. She knew almost everything else about Channon, but she'd never touched his lips with her own.

  “Ray?” He lifted an eyebrow. “You're blushing.”

  She cleared her throat again. “I— it's hot in here. Listen, Bayne said he and Silver were going to make an announcement tonight. What do you think it will be?”

  He did not answer for several moments. He studied her, his cornflower blue gaze scattering her thoughts in every direction. Rayna's heartbeat drummed in her ears, and she licked her lips as she repeated her question. “What do you think they will say?”

  Channon sighed and turned away. “No idea, but how about we do something to get your mind off it for a while?” He leaned forward and finished a few hasty stitches on his boots before slipping them on.

  “What did you have in mind?” Rayna pulled her unruly red hair into a knot.

  With a wink, Channon shifted into a golden wolf and sprinted from the den. Rayna formed and raced after him. They chased each other along trails, hopping onto boulders and leaping across gullies until they reached the coastline. Channon, surefooted in his wolf form, made his way down the steep, sedge grass-lined dunes. Rayna followed. Soon they stood at the shore, the icy, autumnal ocean nipping at their paws. Salty air whipped Rayna's fur as she stared over the blue-green water.

  Rayna. Channon’s quiet bark could barely be heard over the wind. He formed human, and she mirrored him. “Whatever happens with Maenor, you have your aunt and uncle. You have the pack. And we have each other. Right?”

  “Right.” So much was unknown, and so many things could go wrong. But she had her pack, her family, and her friends, and in the end, for a wolf, that was what mattered. Ominous clouds darkened the horizon as they spent the day tracking minks, visiting True Wolf friends, doing whatever they could to pretend their lives were not about to change.

  When they returned to the Southern Densite, rain pelted the forest. As if an omen from Wolnor himself, the rain still had not let up when the waning moon rose in the darkening heavens. It was time the pack settled into their dens to spend the evening with kin, but Rayna worried Bayne's surprise announcement, whatever it might be, would ruin the night for them all.

  Rayna watched from her own den as Bayne, in his black wolf form, left his and Silver's. Reaching the fire pit, he stopped and howled. His deep baritone song filtered through the trees, sliding from note to note. As he closed his jaws, the pack members left their dens, likely bewildered by their leader's summons.

  Every pack member crowded around the extinguished fire pit that marked the site's center. Rayna moved to a nearby moss-coated rock. Her red fur was soaked through from the persistent rain, but she had never minded being wet. She spied Channon weaving through the crowd. When Channon saw her, he sprinted toward the rock. Under the tree cover, he took his two-legged form and sat beside her, his floppy hair dripping wet, his leather clothing soaked. Rayna glanced at him and took the same form. They watched in silent anticipation as Bayne quieted the crowd.

  "I'm sorry to interrupt you all on this less than perfect night." Bayne ran his hand through his thick black hair. "But I have news on our burgeoning alliance with Maenor."

  The silence broke as the pack burst into voices. Silver stood beside her mate, and raised a hand to quiet the crowd.

  "The Council of Den Alphen has approved a request from the Overlord." Bayne took a breath before continuing. "To mark the occasion of our alliance, he will visit this Densite on new moon."

  Chapter Four

  Bayne stared at the shocked, confused, and furious faces of his pack. There were too many of his brothers and sisters to count crammed near the fire pit and all around the raised stone platform where he stood. Crossed arms and hard faces extended beyond his range of vision. It cut him worse than any blade that his own people looked at him with such distrust. But leadership was a burden, not a privilege. He would bear any amount of pain to keep his pack safe, even if they hurt him. The audience was still and silent until Nero spoke.

  "Rhael wants a visit, he gets it. What next? Our territory? Our resources? No. I refuse to be Rhael’s lapdog!" Several murmurs of support came from the pack.

  Bayne ground his teeth. Of course Nero would seize this opportunity to
sow dissent. "I know it is sudden—"

  "Sudden? It's unfair and weak! If you were any kind of leader, you would not stand for this treatment!"

  "Oh, shut up, Nero!" Rayna carved her way through the crowd.

  Bayne exhaled his relief. He knew she would understand. She had needed time, as he had.

  "What? What did you say to me?” Nero snarled as Rayna shoved past him and faced the pack.

  "Think for a moment,” she called. “If we make peace with Rhael, it all ends. The fighting, the fear!"

  "Yes, but then we'd be allies with Maenor,” Nero argued. “This entire alliance idea is a deer-brained one! Rayna, Aquillo died in battle against those monsters, your mother was murdered—"

  "You think I don't know that, Nero? I'm saying an alliance would prevent more deaths." Rayna's eyes burned into Nero. He fell silent.

  "Thank you, Rayna." Bayne took the lead. "None of us are admirers of Maenor, but orphans and fruitless wars will continue if we oppose this alliance." Rayna looked at him and half-smiled. Bayne's heart lifted.

  Silver joined them. "We all have reservations, and rightfully so. But allowing Rhael to cross our borders will help us to end this war and protect our children from the terrors and losses we have known too well." Silver's voice seemed to reassure the pack. Nero grumbled, but otherwise remained quiet.

  Four days of preparations went by for Rayna in a flurry of fear, wonder, and even hope. The Maenoren Overlord was expected today, and Channon had gone hunting for the feast to be held in Rhael's honor. He had invited Rayna, but she had declined. Her sleeping tonic had failed again, and this time she could not ignore the dream. She remembered every detail. Thera would want to know the medicine had lost its effectiveness.

  "I’m sure it’s just nerves and nothing to worry about," Channon had said, but Rayna wasn't convinced. Over the last few weeks she'd had flashes of nightmares, but nothing as vivid and real as her dream last night.

  As Rayna walked toward Thera's den, a wolf streaked past.

  Gar! The True Wolf Alpha had a distinctive color. He was mostly pale brown, but along his spine a darker maple adorned his fur.

  He turned and dipped his head. Rayna. How wonderful to see you.

  Where are you heading so quickly?

  Just bringing news from Georg and Declan to the Alphen. I was visiting my northern cousins and spoke with them about their impressions of the Maenorens who passed through a few days ago on their way here.

  Georg and his mate Declan were the Alpha pair of the Northeastern Densite. Rayna had only met them a handful of times but knew them to be loyal, kind, and staunch defenders of the northern borders. Fewer Fenearens lived in the Northern and Northeastern Densites close to the Maenoren border because of the constant threat of violence. Those who did had to be fierce and guarded. Rayna wondered what they thought of the impending Maenoren alliance.

  Gar raised a paw and sprinted toward the Alpha's den. He always traveled so much that Rayna wondered when he had time to lead his pack. He must have found the time somewhere, because the True Wolves were thoroughly unified under Gar.

  Rayna found Thera with her hands filled with firewood, emerging from the woods into her clearing. Rayna took the burden from her as they went inside.

  "Thank you, Rayna." Thera sat on her willow bark chair beside the hearth. Rayna put the wood down and settled in the chair across from her.

  "Now, my dear, you did not come here to help an old woman with her chores, did you?"

  Rayna bit her lip. "I should have told you earlier. I think your tonic to prevent nightmares might be losing its effectiveness."

  Thera looked up from the fire, eyes narrowed. “Why do you say that?”

  "A few nights ago I started having… flashes of dreams. Nothing that I remembered. Then last night, I dreamed and I remember all of it.”

  Thera scrunched her nose. “You’re right. You should have told me earlier. Was it a good dream or a bad one?”

  “It wasn’t a nightmare. It had nothing to do with my mother or anything like that. It was odd—meaningless really. I dreamed of a mountain, covered in ice and snow. There were two figures at the peak, a man and a woman."

  "Did you recognize them?" There was a strange hitch in Thera’s voice.

  “The woman had white hair past her waist. Her eyes were yellow-green, like a True Wolf's. I think she was ... I think she was Lumae.”

  Thera exhaled. “And the man? What did he look like?”

  Rayna closed her eyes, remembering the dream that had felt so real. “He was tall with long black hair pulled away from his face. He had the bluest eyes I have ever seen.” Bluer than Channon’s. Where Channon’s were the vivid cerulean of cornflowers, the man in her dreams had eyes as deep and clear as the ocean itself.

  “Alvo,” said Thera.

  “The founder of Alvorn?” Rayna tried to remember if she had ever seen a drawing of the Alvornian founder, perhaps in Thera’s scrolls.

  “And Lumae's companion. It would make sense that you saw them together. Did they say anything?”

  “No.” Rayna fidgeted in her chair. “Now that I say it out loud, I'm not sure why I bothered you with this. I'm worried about the alliance, and my mind spins tales while I sleep because I can't relax.”

  Thera did not respond for some time. “You know, when Roxen was six winters old, he found an injured yellow warbler, prettiest little thing. He brought it to me, its wings broken, barely alive, and asked if I could save it. I took the little creature from him and tried everything I could.” Thera stood and leaned against her mantelpiece. Rayna had no idea where the story would lead, but did not interrupt. “I couldn’t save it. That evening, Roxen asked me, hazel eyes bright with worried tears, if the bird had made it. Do you know what I told him?”

  “Er, no.”

  “I lied. I told him I had patched up the bird and it had flown away. Maybe that was wrong. Maybe the truth is always the best option, even when it hurts. But when you have children, Rayna, you only want them safe, happy, and loved. You never wish them pain, even if, in the end, it might be better. Do you understand?”

  “I suppose so. But,” Rayna picked at her chair, “what does that have to do with me or my dream?”

  “I’m about to tell you something your mother made me swear long ago to keep from you. Before I do, I need your promise not to think badly of your mother for asking me to lie, Rayna. She asked because she loved you. I’m not saying she was right, or that I was right to agree, but that is the truth.”

  For one wild moment, Rayna wondered if this were a dream as well. Nothing Thera said made sense. But Thera’s urgent stare dissolved her disbelief. “You could never make me think badly of my mother. She loved me. She died for me. Whatever she did, I’m sure she had reason.”

  “Good, good.” Thera composed herself. “Do you remember when you started having nightmares?”

  “It was after my mother died. I would dream of her, of the Maenorens, but of other things, too. I don’t remember much, just that I woke, screaming and terrified. Bayne and Silver brought me to you for medicine.”

  “Yes. I told you your dreams resulted from the trauma of your mother's death and that the potion would help you sleep. I told you that lie for twelve years.”

  “What?” Rayna was on her feet before she fully processed Thera's words. “What do you mean?”

  “I told you the dreams resulted from your experiences, but I knew that was not the truth. They weren’t nightmares, Rayna, they were visions.”

  “Visions?”

  “Aye, of the past, the present, the future. All mixed together in a muddle that would overwhelm anyone, let alone a child who had lost the only parent she had ever known.”

  “Thera.” Rayna gripped her former nursemaid’s arm. “What are you talking about? How do you know they were…visions?”

  “Because your mother had them, too, and they nearly drove her mad.”

  Rayna released Thera’s arm. “You aren’t making any sense.”


  “I know, and I’m sorry. Let me help you understand.” Thera gestured for Rayna to sit down. She obeyed; her legs wobbled anyway.

  “Your mother was the first daughter to your grandfather, Eron, and the first female Blackclaw–that is someone descended from the ancient hero Blackclaw as you are through Eron– in four generations. Eron loved Mya, but her birth troubled him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your great, great grandmother, Cassa, killed herself after a life plagued by strange dreams and impressions that often, though not always, turned out to be true.”

  “What? Why would she…?” How did Thera know more about Rayna's own family than she did?

  “Imagine dreading sleep every night, never knowing what you might see. Perhaps only some innocuous moment, or perhaps a gruesome murder of a stranger, a friend, a family member, even your own. Imagine that no matter what you did, you could not change what you had seen, and you feared that your actions caused the vision to occur. Imagine the guilt, the terror, the agony of such power. Can you not see why someone would be desperate to stop it?”

  “So the visions drove Cassa mad, and it wasn’t until my mother was born that the curse passed to someone else?” Rayna could visualize her ancient ancestor with red hair like hers and her mother’s, tormented every time she closed her eyes. With a jolt of fear, Rayna wondered if she were seeing her.

  “Yes. When Mya was born, your grandparents, Eron and Elion, hoped the rumors about Cassa and about women in your family were fanciful exaggerations. But as soon as Mya was old enough to communicate her dreams, they knew the stories were true. With my help, they raised her to accept, to control in some part, these visions. She would tell me every dream, and together with her parents we would decide what to do if a vision warned of disaster, so that Mya did not bear her abilities alone. More often than not, the dreams were harmless or too vague to interpret.”

  “But what about Silver?” Rayna interrupted. “She’s a woman born into the Blackclaw line.”