Vistra spent time every single day in the morning and night with Freya. They broke their fast in the morning and had dinner together. All the while Vistra told Freya about the Vargar culture, and shared stories of her childhood and how she had been groomed to take her leadership from her father.
“I’ve trained Cain since he was able to crawl. If he’s to take leadership from me one day and provide for his future family, then he must be strong. I’m proud to say he’s one of the strongest in the pack,” Vistra went on proudly about her son while digging into a plate of roast rabbit.
Mention of a future family made Freya inhale sharply. How had she not thought of that?
Vistra had told Freya that after an offering is accepted Vargar normally start trying to grow their family immediately. Most couples had pups shortly after the night their courtship came to end. Her mind had been willfully ignorant to think about what all that meant. Perhaps it was Cain’s presence in the camp that night that drew it to the front of her mind.
Cain was as far away as he could be from his mother and Freya, yet she knew he was watching her. Freya did her best to avoid his heady gaze and enjoy Vistra’s company. They weren’t likely to have any family they way he glared through her. Perhaps he agreed with his uncle that she was a discarded runt.
Ivar had looked at her so angrily as she had entered this camp leading her to think they would all hate her the way he seemed to. And yet none of the others did. She’d quickly gotten along with everyone. After they’d had their fill of admiring her feathers, which had been embarrassing in the beginning, it was like she’d always been one of them.
She fit right in on the forest floor, and Vistra was the warmest of them all. The Wolfmother had already taken to calling Freya her daughter. It made her sad to think of her own mother, but she tried not to. Vargar took family very seriously, so Vistra was more than willing to take Freya in. It was more than she could have ever expected from them. More than once Freya had to hold back happy tears with her new friends. How drastically her life had changed.
Cain’s apparent angry presence drew her attention again as he stood from his far away seat at one of the opposite tables and stalked off into the forest.
“May I ask something, freely?” Freya hesitantly asked Vistra between gulps of mead for courage.
“Of course, daughter, don’t fear and hold your tongue from me. Your wit has proven sharp in these few days together and I’d hate to see you hold back,” Vistra’s warm smile turned inquisitively to Freya.
“I fear Cain doesn’t like me. I know it meant a lot that he even gave me an offering and he’s not breathed a word against me, that I know of,” Freya went on in a rush with her words tumbling from her mouth.
“How are we supposed to have the future you envision when he doesn’t speak to me, instead all I receive are glares,” she whispered. Freya had become conscious of her own thoughts of Cain. She knew he was the most attractive man she’d ever laid eyes on.
Those moments with Aurik disappeared from her thoughts as if they’d never happened. Her body reacted to Cain’s presence in a way she was almost disturbed by. She could very well visualize what it would take to start a family with him. At the mental image her face flushed red, knowing she was still talking to his mother about his assumed hatred for her.
“If you think he’s glaring we might be looking at him differently,” Wolfmother laughed heartily with her head thrown back with mirth. Freya could only manage a chuckle as she tried to understand what Vistra meant. She was sure he didn’t want anything to do with her.
“He’s most definitely glaring at me. Your son hates me. I’m sure of it!”
“And rain falls up little bird,” Vistra only continued to laugh. She nearly splashed her mead all over the table while laughing at the little scowl on Freya’s face that creased her brows together.
As the sun went down Freya retired to the tent and followed through her new normal night routine. She washed up with hot water, did her best to braid her hair like her sister used to, and then dress in the oversized white tunic she been given. It was more freeing and far more comfortable to sleep in than anything she’d had before.
Vistra had been right and a chill was beginning to creep in each night. The trees were nearly bare of leaves. Freya had already been finding wild winter berries growing at the edges of the camp. Apparently, they didn’t grow in the mountains and the Vargar had been enjoying them with each breakfast when Freya shared them.
There was a calm smile on her face while she crawled into the bed and piled up under every fur blanket available. The tent was cozy, and Freya was glad to have her own space to fall asleep in.
It had to have the dead of night when noises woke Freya from her sleep. The tent was dark as the brazier fire had died down and it took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to see the movement in the usually empty space.
Someone was sitting on a stool next to the dying fire. Even if the dark Freya recognized the wide muscular back as Cain. She couldn’t help the audible gasp that escaped her lips when she fully awoke and realized who was in the tent with her.
“I’m sorry to wake you,” he remarked gruffly. This was the first time he’d spoken to her directly and she wanted to be careful not to make him dislike her more than he already seemed to.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him cautiously. He had to have a good reason for being there. The past several days since the first moment he saw her Cain seemed to be avoiding her at all costs.
“Well, seeing as this is my tent, I’m here to fix my bandages,” he replied with a short and dry chuckle. Her face must have drained of all its color when he stated this. This entire time she’d been staying in his tent unaware.
“I didn’t know this was your tent, my apologies,” as quickly as she could Freya leapt up from the bed not taking into account how disheveled she looked with her hair tousled from sleeping.
“No need to apologize. We’ll be sharing space eventually,” Where she thought she would hear resentment in his tone there was only a calmly stated matter of fact. They’d be living together one day, and he was acting as though it didn’t bother him.
“Well, then why haven’t you been staying in here?” she finally asked while watching him clean a rather nasty looking open wound along his ribs. This was the first time she’d seen the gash and she knew it had to have been from the nighthog.
He was silent for what felt like ages before he finally replied, “I won’t stay here while you’re afraid of me.”
She sat on the edge of the bed and laughed at him. The sound must have startled him because he jumped and turned on the stool to look at her in the low fire light.
Cain’s eyes were deep and blazing red like their own fires while reflecting the light from the brazier. His brows were knit together in bewilderment as he looked at Freya shaking with laughter.
“You’re mighty intimidating, but I’m not afraid of you,” she finally admitted to him. The confusion on his face only deepened and Freya couldn’t help the second bout of laughter that bubbled past her lips.
While she laughed Cain turned away shaking his head and attempted to continue cleaning the wound on his side. It was high up on his ribs and almost reached under his right arm. It was obvious it was difficult for him to reach the top of the gash as he winced while he tried.
After a few deep breaths Freya thought she should prove to him that she really wasn’t afraid of him like he seemed to think she was. What better way to prove she wasn’t scared than to get so close as to help him with a serious injury. She moved to sit on the floor next to the stool.
In the close proximity Freya couldn’t help but admire the way the dancing light from the brazier played across his perfectly sculpted muscles. Cain was massive and built larger than any warrior she’d seen with the Adaryn. At this proximity she noticed feint scars all across his body, no doubt from the years of rigorous training he’d gone through. Training since he could crawl as Vistra had said.
“Please, let me help you. I knew a few things about caring for injuries,” and in the moment while he was distracted Freya was able to take the rag from his hand that he had been cleaning himself with. His face looked suddenly tense again with his lips pursed tight before he slowly raised his arm to give her access to the gash.
His body was on fire with heat, she could feel it burning even through the fabric of the rag. After cleaning the wound in silence, she took the clean bandages he’d brought in and wrapped his ribs. It took her longer than she would have thought as she tried to avoid touching his skin directly. He might have a fever from the gash the Nightboar had given him. If he didn’t rest an infection could spread and do a great deal of damage.
“You’re not well. Have you been sleeping?”
“Not really, there’s been a bird in my bed,” He replied with a smirk lighting his usually grim face in a way that made Freya feel a tightness in her chest.
“Well birds don’t usually share beds with beasts,” Freya replied teasingly. Something about the mood in the room was starting to change her mind about Cain. Perhaps he didn’t hate her like she thought he did. “And rain falls up,” Vistra had told her.
The massive Vargar chuckled heartily at her words and Freya was mesmerized by the way his muscles rippled across his form. His long hair was pulled back behind his head and she could see the thick muscles along his shoulders shaking with his gentle laughter.
Suddenly Cain sighed and started to shift in the stool. He was starting to fall over with his eyes barely open. Freya managed to throw her hands up and stop him from toppling right onto her. At the full skin to skin contact she could feel that Cain really was burning up and a fine line of perspiration was beading along his brow.
“Oh, sky above me, Cain you’re on fire!” worry tinged her voice as she attempted to stand and keep him upright at the same time. If he’d been injured several days ago and then spent all the time since running around the woods and not sleeping, he was only making himself incredibly sick. That’s when Freya realized he’d stayed away thinking she was afraid of him.
This terrifying man she’d been worrying would be a monster had been avoiding her because he’d thought this entire time, she was scared of him. He hadn’t been sleeping in his own tent for her sake, and that thought brought a shocked giggle to her lips.
All the nightmares she’d had of their kind seemed wrong now. Cain was meant to be the next leader of the Vargar and here he was making himself sick on behalf of a little bird.
With all her might Freya stood up with Cain in her arms. The fever was quickly taking over him, and she was struggling to wrestle him to the bed. His eyes were barely open and in his current state he wasn’t doing much to help get into the bed. No wonder he’d finally caved and come into the tent to clean the wound. Freya rolled her eyes at him even though he couldn’t see her do so.
“You’re a heavy thing Cain,” Freya grunted out as she finally released him onto the bed. Once he was away from the heat of the fire, he began to shiver but Freya knew he needed to stay cool to fight the fever.
“You silly brute,” Freya was admiring the lines of Cain’s face as he fell into a deep sleep. None of this situation was as she could have ever imagined. Just that morning she was more than sure he hated her guts and instead he’d been avoiding her to give her peace of mind.
It was true he was quite the sight, and covered in blood, when she’d first seen him, but he hadn’t acted as a monster towards her. She knew that their kinds had been enemies for ages and yet he injured himself in the process of providing her with a large offering and then kept his distance. It was one of the kindest and yet most ridiculous things anyone had ever done for her. Aurik’s friendship and pity flights would never compare to Cain’s actions.
Suddenly Cain’s arm swung out and caught Freya. As he rolled over, he took her down onto the bed with him. His heavy arm was holding her against his warm chest and Freya whimpered out realizing the situation she was now in. No matter how much she squirmed she couldn’t get away from the heated body at her back.
Cain must have been deep into the fever fueled sleep he’d fallen into because he was now pulling Freya tighter against him. She could feel his breathing against her ear, and it was causing chills to race up her spine and her gut clenched.
“Pretty little bird,” Cain mumbled in his sleep. If he hadn’t been right next to her ear, she might not have heard what he’d said. But she had, and now her face was flushed like a ripe berry in the spring. She might as well have been the one with the fever at how her cheeks now blazed with heat. This was going to be the longest night of her life.
Yet, she couldn’t deny just how content she was. The feeling of being held so tight was astonishingly reassuring and comforting. It made her feel blissful and the warmth at her back made it easier to fall back into the clutches of sleep.
Chapter 9
For two days Cain slept off his fever. The entire time Freya was at his side caring for him. She used her sewing skills to stitch his wounds and forced water in him like she had with her mother.
Vistra stopped by several times throughout each day to peek into the tent. She didn’t stop for long, but each time had a frighteningly conniving smirk. It was as if all her plans were falling into place. She didn’t hide her aspirations to have grandchildren and Freya had to ignore each mention of it.
Even though now Freya knew Cain didn’t hate her she still didn’t know him. Taking care of him while sick wasn’t going to magically make them fall in love. There were still high tensions between their people and dark thoughts weighing at the back of Freya’s mind.
Word got to her that Ivar was missing. Freya had heard enough to know that he’d been responsible for the attack that lead to Raga’s death. None of the surviving Vargar from that fight were here in the camp, most had been punished by Vistra for acting against her. As the leader of the rebellion, Ivar had been given to the Adaryn for punishment and he'd slipped out of their grasp.
The Wolfmother wanted peace for her pack after the death of her mate. Cain’s father had died in a battle when he was very young and Vistra was hesitant to go to war. Ivar had been hungry for blood and riled up other restless warriors to stir up trouble. Freya knew she would never forgive him.
His actions had led to the death of her sister and with the way her mother had been, her death was sure to follow. Her father had grown distant and taken the first opportunity to get rid of her.
That seemed to be too perfect timing the more she thought about it. Her sister died and after months the Council decide to honor Raga’s name? She thought back to those times at the market where she felt she was being watched. Allen Grouse had known they could only offer a noble’s daughter to the Wolfmother’s heir after the suggestion for a union had been made.
It was the perfect excuse to throw a title on Freya’s family name and get rid of the shame her people would have for her. Although she’d always known she was different it did break her heart to know they had sacrificed her so easily. In the silence of the tent it was easy to weep out her sorrows while Cain slept off his infection.
The void that Raga left behind would never be filled, not completely. Her sister had been her greatest friend and ally in the world. It had become such a dark and cruel place without her presence. Freya thought it would be a betrayal to Raga if she forgave Ivar for what he’d done.
Yet, Freya was wise enough to see it wasn’t the fault of the entire pack that she’d lost her sister. Vistra wanted peace just as badly as she did and had offered up her only child in the hopes of an alliance. The stakes were too high, and Freya couldn’t bring herself to hate them.
The Vargar had such a feeling of inclusivity and strong family ties that in some instances she was almost overwhelmed. She’d been we
lcomed so easily it almost broke her mind at how wrong the Adaryn scholars had been in their vague writings about the world of Vargar.
Just because they could turn into a beastly wolf-like creature didn’t mean they were in turn as savage as an everyday wolf. They cared about the thrill of the hunt and the safety of their pack. Freya had even been told about how children were raised and cared for by everyone. Their family bonds were an unfathomable concept to her.
Adaryn were all so concerned about status and gossip it now astonished Freya to think of how she might not have ever fit in with her own kind even if she’d never lost her wings. Her own people would have preferred if her illness has a child had taken her life, just because she couldn’t fly.
With the Vargar she didn’t have to feel like she was missing out on anything. It was easy to join the flow of everyday life on solid ground at their sides. Sometimes she wasn’t as socially adept as she’d like to be, but most of her interaction had been solely with her family. Except her time with Aurik.
Although Aurik had been a part of the group to come to the decision for an alliance he hadn’t been there to bring her to the camp. He hadn’t even come to tell her goodbye, that was all she needed to know.
It seemed to her now that perhaps he just wanted a plaything while he was bored. The way he so quickly attempted to use her body for his own needs on one of the worst days of her life could have made her sick. Aurik would never truly love her, just the idea of her or how she could make him feel. Surely, it made him feel superior when he was flying Freya around like the pitiful thing she was. Or used to be.
Here she didn’t feel broken or pitiful. Her help around the camp was appreciated and not once did she look to the sky with envy. In fact, once she started to take care of Cain during his fever, they seemed to grow a great deal of respect for her.
It was noon on the second day when Cain’s fever finally broke. He continued in a deep sleep muttering to himself and tossing and turning more than before. Freya didn’t even realize she was smiling at the signs his strength was returning, or that she was admiring him in his muscular glory.
The Bird and The Wolf Page 9