“Come. I’ll show you to where you’ll be staying. I sense a chill in the air in the coming days. I’m not sure how well your kind handle the cold, but it gets quite chilly in the mountains,” Freya was vaguely aware of Vistra leading her to a tent near the center of the camp. It was one of the larger rounded tents and could easily fit a small family. She was too tired to protest at the Wolfmother leading her around by the arm, even if she wasn’t on the verge of drunken sleep, she wouldn’t dare speak against her.
Vistra Fargrim was kind to her now, but that could change in an instant. The fear of Vargar was still ingrained in the back of her mind and she knew sharp teeth and claws were just waiting under Vistra’s skin to burst free if they were needed. Freya didn’t want to be on the receiving end of those beastly claws currently hidden from sight.
None of the celebrating Vargar paid her much mind as she walked past with their leader. The walk to the tent helped to sober her up from the effects of the strong mead but did nothing to help the ache in her bones. Freya was relieved when she entered the tent to see a bed covered in blankets and furs.
She took a moment to take in her surroundings and try to commit them to memory. A thin animal skin rug covered the earthen floor to protect from dirt and grass, and there was a small brazier giving off just enough light and warmth to give the tent a cozy feeling. Freya’s belongings must have dropped off earlier since they were stacked to the back left near the bed.
“I’ll have someone bring you some water to wash up. I’m sure the day has worn on you,” Vistra offered. Freya could only manage a slight nod as she longingly stared at the bed.
“Thank you,” she squeaked out before Vistra left the tent. She heard the Wolfmother pause in her steps, but after a moment she left Freya alone. It wasn’t too long after that someone had come by to bring a bowl of hot water to Freya.
She accepted all to happily as she stripped down from the restrictive clothing tied around herself. It felt good to be out of the binding layers of cloak and expensive silks she didn’t enjoy wearing. There was no mirror in this room like the room at the mansion had contained.
Freya was thankful for that. She didn’t want to know how worn out she looked. Being carried through the air for most of the day had being tiring enough. Staying awake for hours past when she normally went to bed and observing the Vargar had drained her thoroughly.
However, she couldn’t help but think of how majestic the Vargar had been as their wolves. They were massive creatures she had always known to be savage beasts, but that’s not what she saw tonight. She had seen their beauty in the power they held and how carefree they were.
After a quick and thorough wash with the hot water Freya dug through her belongings to find something acceptable to sleep in. Quickly she did her best at braiding her own hair, she still wasn’t used to doing it without her sister’s help. Raga had done it so perfectly and with ease. She was sure it looked akin to a rat’s nest now. Without any hesitation she crawled into the already warm bed and let her eyes close under the strength of the last vestiges of mead putting her into an exhausted sleep.
Chapter 7
Cain was suffering more than he ever had in his entire life. He couldn’t stop moving as he paced around the tree line around the entire camp. His legs carried him back and forth the entire boarder where the trees met the clearing.
The chill of the night air didn’t faze him as he continued to stew in the new thoughts and feelings bombarding his mind. It was like a wild fog had settled in his brain and he couldn’t see past it.
Of all the outcomes this day could bring Cain believed the least likely would be that he would have any semblance of interest in the Adaryn girl. However, as soon as he’d broken through to the clearing with that nightboar carcass on his shoulders and looked up into those blue eyes he’d lost himself.
Those blue eyes would be the end of him if Cain wasn’t careful. They were like crystal clear pools of the bluest water and just imagining them made him feel like he was drowning. He wanted to run his fingers through her platinum hair and taste the pale skin of her slender neck.
“Freya,” He whispered her name over and over as he continued to wear a path into the dirt. His hands ran through his hair with frustration and confusion while the sounds of the celebration in the distance continued without his presence.
This Adaryn woman who had been given to him was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in his entire life. Cain was left speechless as he’d watched her stare at him and eventually accept his offering. Even afterwards no words would come to him as he imagined trying to talk to her.
It didn’t escape his notice that she trembled like a leaf in the wind at the sight of him. Her lower lips had quivered, and it looked as though she would start wailing at any moment.
Cain had hunted prey for long enough to know when he was smelling fear. And Freya had been so devastatingly afraid of him it caused an unfamiliar ache in his chest to remember the sorrow in her eyes as she stared at him. Cain didn’t want her to be afraid of him, however he didn’t have the slightest clue on how to approach her and ease those fears.
It didn’t bother him that she didn’t have wings. Ivar’s words taunting the little bird and trying to stir up trouble didn’t matter to him at all. Cain just thought that at least now the Adaryn wouldn’t be able to fly away from him. Even though she looked as if she desperately wanted to.
Ivar had called her the runt, but she was nowhere near that. If anything, Cain thought Freya was like the embodiment of the moon. Living light come down to grace his life with her presence. Beautiful and pale, yet shy and timid.
Perhaps it was the pain in his ribs from his injury clouding his judgement. Despite Cain’s rational brain telling him that he needed to speak to the Adaryn and show her that he was no threat the thoughts in the back of his mind that told him to avoid her and the fear in her blue eyes was winning.
From the tree line, Cain could see Freya sitting with his mother at the head table. Even now her brows were furrowed, and her lower lip jut out with a slight frown in between each massive gulp of her drink. Although she didn’t seem to be afraid of the Alpha and noticed Freya give a slight smile whenever his mother talked to her.
What could they be talking about? Was she talking about him? Did she have any interest in Cain at all? Or, as he feared, would she be afraid of him for the rest of their lives?
Cain wondered if he could live happily the rest of his life pining after a woman who was terrified of him. His instincts were to sink his claws into her and never let her go. The beast within his mind wanted to devour her in a way he’d never felt before.
This wasn’t bloodlust, this was something more.
Cain growled and threw his fist into the nearest tree. The bark cracked and his knuckles splintered on impact at the same time the chirping insects in the trees went silent at his outburst.
Every part of him wanted to turn back and go to the celebrations where the woman bathed in moonlight was drinking away her sorrows. Did she have a family she had to leave behind to come here? Was she going to resent the Vargar for the rest of her life because she happened to be the unlucky bird promised to the ones her kind assumed were monsters? Did she think he was a monster?
With the way she cowered away from his gaze, Cain assumed she did.
Cain stopped in his tracks to look down at himself. He was covered head to toe in hog’s blood and some of his own was still dripping from his side where the boar’s tusks had gouged him in their fight. A groan left him as he began to realize just how horrifying he looked.
Even a Vargar pup would have been afraid of him at the ghastly sight he was now. This wouldn’t serve him if he had any hopes of approaching her. Freya was an Adaryn lady after all, she wouldn’t be impressed with some filthy beast. Cain decided to go to the nearest stream and wash the filth and blood off.
“I see you finally cleaned yourself up,” Vistra observed as Cain walked back into the camp dripping wet. She noticed
a difference in his step as he looked around the drinking and dancing wolves, searching for something or someone. “You should have that wound looked at.”
Cain lifted his arm to look at his ribs still glistening and raw at the sight of his wound, “It’s fine.” He continued to flit his eyes over the crowd and to the head table where Vistra had been sitting with Freya moments ago.
“If you’re looking for the girl, she’s retired for the night,” Vistra tilted her head as she observed his reaction. His brows drew together, and Cain’s lips twitched into a momentary frown before he straightened out again to stand at his full height. “Your new mate is in your tent.”
“Mate?” Cain jerked his head to look at Vistra.
“What else did you think she was? You made an offering to her and she accepted. So, by our laws she is your mate.” Vistra looked at her son as though he was perhaps missing his head.
“She-She will not have me,” Cain faced his mother and turned his back on the direction of his tent as he did so. There was a desire within him to seek Freya out, however the memory of her frightened blue eyes halted him. Eyes he could drown in.
“How do you know that if you haven’t spoken to her?”
“It’s easy to see that she’s scared of me.”
“The young woman is merely nervous, Cain,” Vistra reached out and placed a firm hand on her son’s shoulder. “You may have seen her initial fear, but I have raised you not to linger on first meetings.”
“She looked at me the same way prey might look at a predator,” He sighed deeply before turning to look up at the night sky and glowing stars. This longing for the Adaryn woman was baffling him. All it took was one look at her and he began to feel like his body was going to burn up.
“Be the one to help her adjust to the pack, Cain. While you stormed off to clean yourself up the little bird seemed to grow more comfortable with her new surroundings. It seems to me that she has a more open mind than her fellow birds,” Vistra admitted her observation.
“Perhaps because she is not like them. The Adaryn council seemed eager to hand her over. She is different, but…” Cain hesitated to follow through on that thought when he realized where they were leading. Although his mother wasn’t going to let him drift off topic.
“But what?” Vistra quirked her brow and watched the conflict flit across Cain’s face as he considered his reply.
“But she is beautiful,” Cain nodded his head before he looked into his mother’s eyes.
“Yes, Freya is quite pretty,” Vistra hummed and attempted to hide a smile as she stared at Cain. The Wolfmother knew her son spent more of his time focusing on training to be the next Alpha and less on the women of the pack. It was a bit of a surprise to see him so interested in the Adaryn after his anger when this alliance was suggested.
Cain only grunted in response to his mother as he realized he was talking about his feelings for an Adaryn. Feelings of attraction that were far from what he’d experienced before.
“Like I mentioned, she is in your tent if you would like to join her,” Vistra seemed to be attempting to encourage him.
“I’m not going to interrupt what could be a moment of peace for her after the day she’s had. I’d be a fool to barge in on her while she’s already frightened of me and essentially abandoned by her kind. No, I will leave her alone,” He rubbed his hands over his face as his exhaustion began to catch up with him.
Cain thought that if Freya was resting peacefully in his tent then he would just have to leave her alone. It would be inconsiderate of him to intrude on her even if it was his tent.
The thought of her sleeping in his bed had his heart suddenly hammering in his chest and Cain took one step back in that direction. He had to take a deep breath and remind himself that they were still strangers, even if they were tied to each other for the rest of their lives.
“There will be time for us to get acquainted. However, I will let her adjust first. The Adaryn want their own ceremony under the Blue Moon so we have time to get to know each other before we go back to the mountain.”
“Indeed,” Vistra smirked at Cain as he shuffled from one foot to the other repeatedly. “Also, plenty of time for you to get the gash in your side looked at by the healer,” Cain knew by her tone it wasn’t a suggestion.
“Of course, I’ll go to her now.”
“See that you do. And please heed my advice on the little bird, will you?”
Rather than answering Cain just glowered at his mother to avoid being lectured further. He knew she was right, but his stubborn nature wouldn’t allow him to admit it. Cain turned away and began marching in the direction of the healer’s tent, although he had no intention of actually speaking with her.
Instead Cain veered back around into the celebrating pack where his fellow warriors were still dancing. Although he was too exhausted from his fight with the nighthog to join then he believed enough mead could help get platinum hair and blue eyes off of his mind for the night.
Despite the pain in his side and severe fatigue, Cain couldn’t bring himself to go anywhere near his tent where Freya was now resting. It occurred to him that his mother had taken the Adaryn there on purpose. His new attraction to the little bird was plainly obvious to Vistra and it just aggravated him further. Mothers’ know best, as the saying goes. The Wolfmother knew too much, Cain thought.
By the middle of the night wolves were passed out all over the camp with empty mugs strewn about. The Vargar didn’t waste any opportunity to get wild, and this alliance was a great excuse for them. Cain only smiled as he walked over each sleeping form. He lost his smile when he stopped outside the entrance of his tent.
Freya was sleeping soundly inside, and he listened for a moment through the silence of night to her shifting around in the bed. Would his bed smell like her? Did she smell as sweet as she looked?
His fists clenched at his sides as Cain closed his eyes tight.
One day. The little bird had been here less than one day, and he was already obsessed with the vision of her in his mind. Cain sat on the ground and lowered his head in his hands.
Chapter 8
A couple of days passed, and Freya was astounded at how well she began to fit into the daily life at the Vargar encampment. Everyone was an equal in everything they did in every aspect of their lives. The initial stares went away as she got to know the Vargar her time was spent with. The hundreds of people in the camp were getting more familiar as she worked alongside them.
Her affinity for sewing was greatly appreciated and by the end of her second day Freya was helping to fix ripped articles of clothing or leather armor. Their clothing was soft, and she found herself envious of how they moved freely in it. That made her think of all the things Kestrel had made and packed for her. The silken dresses were of amazing quality, but they weren’t right for her and made her stand out.
The older she-wolf she spent time sewing with told Freya that she would stand out on a hunt in the clothes she wore. Her cheeks had flamed in embarrassment, but she knew it was true.
When she used her arrows in the treetops and the older plain clothes, she grew up with it never occurred to her that prey would be aware of colors that stood out. The higher up noble Adaryn wouldn’t have to worry about anything of that nature either. Their meals were prepped for them and they rarely hunted. Freya doubted the councilmen her father grew close with even knew how to shoot an arrow. They left they work to the soldiers and Valkyrie.
During the day she tried not to think of her family at all. Her father had willingly given her away as soon as he’d been welcomed into the elite of Adaryn society. Her mother was withering away, and Freya didn’t know how much longer she would last. And Raga was still gone.
Her father hadn’t even been a part of the group that had brought her here. He hadn’t been there to tell her goodbye. She didn’t know if he was glad to see her gone or if it hurt him too much to see his last daughter given away. Going into the future it didn’t matter. None of it matte
red anymore. She had a new people and new way of life to get ready for.
Moreover, she noticed the Vargar she was now tied to for the rest of her life was avoiding her like a contagious disease. Vistra told her that Cain was out hunting with other warriors during the day, but it seemed more like elusion. Any time they got anywhere near other in the camp Freya noticed him run for the hills. Cain might as well have been shunning her, she thought. Yet, there were moments she caught him staring. As if he was studying her, perhaps.
Whenever she caught sight of him her childhood fear of the Vargar would come creeping back up to the forefront of her mind. She hated that it did, but he was awfully intimidating. His sharp features and dark wine-red eyes almost haunted her like the beast from her dreams. That lead her to the realization that she no longer dreamt of the black beast now that she was surrounded by the Vargar.
The Vargar were not the savages she had been brought up to believe. Every day that passed with them she felt a sort of comfort. She didn’t need to look up to the sky enviously. There was nothing keeping her apart from them. Well, the ability to shift into a massive wolf-beast kept her slightly disconnected. Even so when she was with them, she felt more like she belonged than she had with her own kind.
At the end of the second day Freya had given away her fancy silk materials to the she-wolves who showed interest. The bright fabrics got dirty easily and she didn’t want to feel even more disconnected from them. They had laughed when she gave them away, but it was a good and joyful laugh as they shared their clothing with her as well. It didn’t take long for her to take in the new clothes.
The Vargar clothing didn’t have the traditional Adaryn open back style to make room for wings. It was easier to hide the feathers along her spine and shoulders this way, and she could imagine she fit in with them even more when they were hidden.
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