He was going to kill her.
This was a true beast. One who would start a rebellion just for war, and when he didn't get his way, he'd kill his own family. A true monster. This was the mongrel responsible for Freya losing her own beloved sister and then start the spiral that lead to her landing in Cain's lap.
An image of his face came to mind and Freya knew she couldn't die out here in the woods when she'd only recently found true happiness.
Ivar's claws grasped at empty air and his bite landed on no soft flesh 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 Ivar's 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 and the one moment she had taken to pause and get her bearings before attempting to rise again was all the time her attacker needed.
A growl ripped from the throat of the monster leading up to his jump and throwing himself into her body 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 as she could only wait for that now inevitable moment when his jaws would crush her. Take the life from her.
Ripping out her throat. Just like what had happened to Raga during that battle on the boarder. She'd die like her sister; except she wouldn't 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 and jaws itching to clamp down and end her life. Ivar had been ruthless enough to try and start a war and kill his own sister.
His hunger for bloodshed had no end in sight.
Suddenly, 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. Raindrops pelted against the trees overhead and only the sound of wailing in the distance disrupted the sound of the storm.
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 and sent a chill up the spine of anyone who heard it. It caused an involuntary sob to wretch itself from Freya's chest when she heard it.
Ivar's jaw snapped shut just behind her head and the force of his empty bite sent air dancing across Freya's shoulder and all of the damp feather 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 had to take this moment to inhale and breathe in as much as she could while claws weren't pushing the air out of her lungs. Although all she could manage was a gasp before 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 Freya's 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 in this moment.
"We can't stay here. I can't risk them finding me yet, I'm not ready to take Cain on with the entire pack backing him. Killing you will make him weak," he sneered as he pulled Freya's 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. "You reek of my weakling nephew. I'll take great pleasure in killing you, filthy bird."
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 in that moment. 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.
"I'm going to kill all of your fellow birds, just like I did your sister," Ivar's 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 life's assumed mission.
And for him to slap Freya in the face to say he was the one responsible for her sister's death left her shaking in rage. First her sister was taken away, followed by Freya being thrown into a new and unknown life, finally losing 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.
"You're a monster. Even if you kill me now, they will come for you. The Adaryn will want you dead, as they already do. Now, you've 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!" Freya shouted at Ivar with all the rage and confidence she could muster despite the fear causing her to tremble without control.
Just as Ivar clenched his fist tighter around her hair there was a deep howl in the distance that made the feathers along Freya's spine rise up. That was Cain.
Almost on instinct Freya could recognize the sound of him. In his wolf he would howl at the loss of his mother undoubtably, but the pack would now look to him for leadership and guidance. Cain was now the Alpha.
But those howls were getting closer. Not only Cain's distinct growls met her ears. The rest of the Vargar would be following him as he came after Freya and the traitor who killed Vistra.
"We're leaving now," Ivar snarled as he jerked her head again to encourage her to move. "I need to plan before I face them again," And he began to swivel his head around, lifting his nose into the air to sniff out a path to take.
Ivar begin to stalk through the woods and jerked Freya by the hair to encourage her to follow him. Not like she could have fought him anyway. Her dress was now soaked full of rainwater and torn from her run through the underbrush of the forest. As Ivar tugged her along by the back of her neck with clawed hands digging into her scalp Freya could feel blood begin to drip from where his nails pierced her flesh.
Her feet stumbled along as Freya tried to keep pace with Ivar's long strides. At some point her shoes got stuck in the mud and slipped from her feet leaving them bare. Her bare feet slipped in the sludge of the forest floor and acquired scraps from various rocks and broken limbs along the way. Ivar didn't even stop to look back at Freya as he tugged he
r along. The brute was confident his captive could not get away.
It felt like so much time had passed that Freya was hauled through the trees with rain pelting them through the branches above. The light of the blue moon was casting an eerie glow through the black storm clouds and down into the forest. Fog was quickly seeping up from the dark edges of the woods. Their path was obscured with the curtain of rain pouring down through the treetops. Even Freya's advanced vision was unclear, she didn't know how Ivar was able to find his way. She knew his sense of smell would be hindered by the rain. That was why the pack hadn't been able to catch up to them yet.
Freya hoped with an ache deep in her chest that Cain would be able to catch her scent even with the rain that would be washing it away. She wanted him to come to her and save her from the monster who was taking her away for the sole purpose of ending her life on his own terms.
Her feet were aching, and her body sagged with the exhaustion of running in the freezing rain, Freya's pain and the tears streaming down her cheeks were the constants she tried to focus on. These told her she was still alive. If she were still alive that meant that there was still a chance she would continue to do so.
Ivar pulled Freya until they broke out of the forest and onto a ledge overlooking the wide canyon separating the lands of their races. The rain now pummeled them harder without the protection from the trees and Freya felt weighed down. Exhaustion was attempting to pull her to the ground the moment Ivar brought their running to a halt.
The sound of the pack was so far away, loud howls coming through the thunder and rain as no more than a whisper.
"Here. We go down," Ivar growled and tilted his head down towards the canyon below. In the black of the night they couldn't even see the bottom. But that is where he intended to take her.
Would she die at the bottom of the canyon in the dark of the night?
Even in the dark of the night with torrential rain pouring down at their backs Ivar was able to traverse a slim path through the rocky crags down into the rift. He was dragging Freya along as if she was no more than a disobedient animal. Each time her foot slipped the beast would grab her by the hair and yank her upright and back to her feet to continue this path he seemed to be familiar with.
With the freezing cold and rain Freya was starting to turn a frightening shade of blue. Her breath coming out in ragged gasps as she was dragged along the steep edges. The only thing keeping her upright in her exhausted state was her proficiency with climbing over the years. If she hadn't learned to take advantage of ascending the heights, she was sure that Ivar would already be dragging a corpse along. Though she was not far from being one already.
Although she was skilled in climbing Freya hadn't really practiced this talent in the rain, or such devastating weather. She knew well enough that it would be dangerous if she attempted to move through soaking limbs, and now that theory was proven correct. One wrong step and she'd be gone.
There was no telling what time of night it was anymore. The sky had stayed black as ink and wasn't showing any signs of when the day would come. Only rain and darkness as even the stars and blue moon were lost to sight. It seemed like so long ago that she had safely been in Cain's arms enjoying the start of their new lives together. The newly anointed couple that was the symbol of their two races finally putting generations of war behind them and taking the first steps needed for peace.
The thought occurred to Freya that Ivar could surely hear her frequent, broken sobs as they maneuvered his path. She knew he didn't care. He was going to kill her regardless. Once she was dead the Adaryn would retaliate. He would get the war he so desperately craved.
It didn't matter that she was their easy sacrifice, she was still Adaryn. They would avenge her death not for themselves, but out of principal. Decades of war and hatred didn't dissipate with one quick union, no matter if the new couple was actually in love or not. Loathing was built into their bones, down to the very basics of who they were as beings.
"Here," Ivar growled as he tossed Freya into the freezing muck at the bottom of the canyon. Cold mud stuck to her dress and covered her hair weighing her down even more as she attempted to push herself up. She felt as though she needed to keep at least slightly aware of her surroundings.
Freya managed to lift herself upright onto her knees where she turned her head to look up the tall craggy walls of the canyon she was now at the bottom of. Would Cain be able to find her in time? So much doubt was clouding her mind as time continued to pass without any sign of hope.
There was howling high above them. Wolves hunting at the top of the canyon. Freya knew there might be a chance they could hear her. If only she could get a sound through her dry throat. The cold and her gasping for breath left her throat parched and pained when she tried to make a sound now. Her body shook as she let out an inaudible whimper.
Even with her superior sight she couldn't see movement at the top of the gorge. She wanted to see them in the hopes they had followed her scent and would know she had been taken down here. But there was too much wind and rain and mud. The chances of them being able to pick up her scent in these conditions were so low. All hope was nearly gone from her.
But the howling was still too close for comfort for Ivar. He stiffened and she could see he was also scanning the tree line far above.
"I need to get this over with. Down here I should now have the time to at least enjoy your death for a moment," Freya's shoulders drooped and her lower lip trembled as she took in Ivar's words. He swung his arms around and began stretching his shoulders followed by rolling his neck around. It seemed his was preparing himself to shift again. "I am definitely going to enjoy this. My shit eating nephew doesn't deserve the pack after agreeing to take you, and my sister wasn't worthy agreeing to this plan. But after we kill your kind, I think the pack will thrive rather well."
"You're the disgusting one. Killing family over ideals that are no longer worth following?" Freya's voice came out barely audible, yet she knew he heard her. Ivar froze from his movements and turned his head to look down at Freya. His mouth was turned down and his brows were scrunched together, and he clenched his fists at his sides. When Freya spat on the ground at his feet Ivar snarled and leapt at her.
A choked gasp left her throat as his heavy body crashed against her and a meaty fist was wrapped around her throat. Ivar's foul breath was against her ear as he growled like the beast he was. The rumbling in his chest from his snarling was making Freya feel sick.
He was too heavy and wasn't holding back as he pressed her into the jagged stony ground at the canyon's bottom. Clawed nails were digging into her neck. One wrong move and he would pierce her flesh so easily.
Freya's right arm was trapped between her ribs and Ivar's chest. She could feel the cool armor inlaid into the fabric as her corset. The sharp end of the material was digging into her forearm. One wrong move and Raga's armor could tear into her skin.
"You filthy bird. How dare you speak to me like that. My sister and her brat are not worthy of leading this pack into the future we deserve," he hissed into her ear and she could feel him moving against her as Ivar started to let his body shift into the monster hiding under his skin. "And oh, how I'm going to enjoy tearing out your slender little throat."
Ivar pulled his head back enough for Freya to see the sharp canines elongating in his mouth and the fur that was starting to emerge from his neck. His eyes were starting to glow like blood under the moonlight.
Freya could feel her heart beating against her chest as though it wanted to escape from her body. Fear was coursing her veins. Maybe it was the adrenaline now flooding her system, but she knew now she had to fight him and try to run.
She began to squirm and kick under Ivar as he glared down at her while letting his beastly nature take over. When she pulled her arm in an attempt to get it out from being stuck between them, she could feel the hard metal armor tear at her skin. If it could wound, her maybe she could use it.
As she continued to pull her
arm and fight against the shifting beast on top of her Freya managed to dig her nails into the triangular piece of metal. The fabric of her dress was so soaked and torn it was almost like pulling a knife from butter as she ripped the part of Raga's breastplate from her bodice.
The metal was as cold as ice in her hands. Chilling her fingers down to the bone. Freya was gripping it with such force that she could feel it starting to cut into her palm.
She didn't know what Kestrel was thinking in placing such a potentially dangerous piece on the dress. Yet, she was grateful for it in this moment.
Ivar's chest was heaving as his chest and sternum cracked and the bones inside were starting to reform. In one moment, he took a deep breath accompanied by a low growl. On the exhale Freya had just enough room between them to move her arm.
In the blink of an eye she pulled her arm back against the solid, wet ground. Freya's wrist angled upwards, holding the pointed edge of what was once armor. Now it was a weapon.
As the beast let his weight collapse back onto Freya, she thrust upwards. There was a terrifying guttural noise that escaped Ivar's partially transformed throat. His body froze, no longer moving to continue his change to beast. Neither of them was breathing as rain continued to splatter down on the ground around them.
The Bird and The Wolf Page 18