Ever so slowly, Ivar's head tilted down to look at Freya laying beneath him. She shivered at seeing the blank look in his eyes before his sight trailed to his own chest were only a small portion of the metal could be seen. Almost the entire fragment had been shoved into his chest.
Hot blood began to drip rapidly from the wound and down onto Freya. Ivar's nostrils were flaring, and his dark eyes were knit together as though he wanted to react to what was happening. However, all he could do was peel his lips back from his monstrous teeth and let out a last snarl that turned into a low groan. Blood dripped from his lips and directly onto Freya's face.
His furred arms that had been holding him up lost their strength and Ivar collapsed fully into Freya. This knocked the breath right out of her. The man on top of her was weighing her down and crushing her chest, leaving no room for her to breath.
Freya wriggled and shoved at him, drawing on what strength she had left to push him off of her. After moments of struggle she was able to shove him enough to slip out from under the body. Ivar’s form rolled over and Freya looked to see his partially transformed body blankly staring up into the blackened sky.
Dark eyes flickered to her movement and in that moment, lightening flashed in the sky behind Freya as if she was surrounded by white hot wings which illuminated the red blood in her hair. In his final moments Ivar saw a Valkyrie warrior and knew she was his death.
Then he was silent. His eyes saw nothing, and no breath escaped his lips. Freya wanted to sigh with relief. Even to start crying from what this traumatic experience had done to her. But her rational brain knew now was not the time.
Freya had killed Ivar. However, she wasn't safe yet.
The beast who had been stalking her and scheming against his own family, all of his people. He was gone by her hand using the very armor of her sister he killed many moons ago.
She sat in the cold and rain for moments that almost began to feel like eternity as she tried to process what had happened. How in one moment she'd gotten the strength to plunge the part of Raga's breastplate that had been fixed onto her dress into the chest of the monster that pursued her.
All those dreams she had before meeting Cain were never about him or a terrifying future with the Vargar. No, it was about this one creature lying dead at her feet. And he would never be able to hurt Freya or any of her family ever again.
Shakily, Freya stood onto her frozen bare feet. Her knees were knocking together, and her shoulders were trembling with the force of her body nearly being ice itself.
After her brief moment to rest after Ivar drew his last breath, she now believed she had enough energy to make it back up the canyon. Although it had been some time since she used her ability to climb Freya thought she could manage it. The path they had used to come down to the bottom of the gorge didn't seem so steep from the bottom and from the perspective she was no longer being dragged against her will.
The main thing that concerned her was that she could no longer hear the rest of the pack in the forest above. Their howls had long since gone quiet and it was easy to assume, they had lost her trail and gone in another direction.
But Freya wasn't going to give up. In the heat of the moment she had managed to kill Ivar and ensure her freedom. All she had to do now was get back to her people. More importantly, to Cain.
It had been so long now that even in the dark Freya knew that day would soon be coming. The storm was raging on, but the light of the sun would help brighten her path back to the camp. As long as she followed the canyon's edge Freya knew she could find it in the clearing.
The walls of the canyon were steep, and her bleeding hand was making each grasp onto the rocky surface nearly unbearable. Freya's arms were trembling with the exertion of pulling herself up each step of the way. It didn't help her situation that she had already been so exhausted before the fire even started.
She wasn't even a quarter of the way up when she collapsed on a short ledge with just enough room for her to lay on her side. Her body was aching all over and the shower from the sky was beating down on her with no sign of easing up.
Freya was too cold. The air was frigid, and the rain was near sleet at this point. Her dress was shredded to mere scraps of fabric. She glanced at her hand laying on the chilly rock surface next to her face and saw her fingers were draining of color and were almost too stiff to move anymore.
Her mind was telling her that she should get up and keep going. Freya knew she needed to keep moving to keep her body warm and active otherwise she could shut down or get sick. But she was too tired. Her body was heavier than it had ever been, and her strength was failing her now.
All the energy she had used to fight for her life in those last moments had sapped the last bit of energy away from her. Now she was frozen bones and frigid flesh.
She wished so badly that Cain was with her. Freya needed his warmth and his touch to comfort her. No one would ever be able to soothe her the way he did. These were the moments she needed the Vargar heir, now Alpha, more than ever.
He'd lost his mother tonight. Would he have to lose his new wife as well? An empty sob left her throat at the thought. Even though she had ultimately defeated the enemy, she was also done for. Left to freeze to death in this canyon where she was all alone.
The feathers across her shoulders and back didn't do enough in the way of warming her.
Perhaps if she'd had wings, she could have been wrapped up in them. Or maybe she could have flown far away from Ivar when he first showed up. Freya began to think that being different would be the death of her. That thought was always there in the back of her mind, but now it was blaring loudly. Like a scream warning her death was coming....
But maybe it wasn't her mind. There was a scream, or no, it was more like a hawk’s shriek. Loud and full of body as it carried through the air high overhead.
Freya's eyes opened up to the dark and vicious storm over her. The droplets were pelting her face and it made it so difficult to keep her eyes open. Her eyelids fluttered, trying to open fully when she heard the shrieking again.
Was it a hawk or was it the Valkyrie war cry? A war cry met with howling of wolves as though they were communicating with one another.
As her eyes began to flutter closed as her will to keep them open left her, Freya thought she saw the sun shining through the clouds. A small spot at first, circling in the sky above. It got closer and closer. The sun coming to devour her.
Her last thought was that the sun was coming for her. Then she fell unconscious.
Chapter 17
Freya’s mind was shrouded in darkness. It felt as though a fog had drifted into her mind where it settled and now blocked her from thought.
The few times her lids fluttered open she was under the impression that wind was whipping at her hair and she was being carried. Yet, all she saw was still void of light.
Consciousness was still out of reach, her mind too clouded and her body too weak to grasp her surroundings. Freya wouldn’t know how much time had passed when she felt her body jolt. The one carrying her landing a little too roughly on the ground as if they were in a hurry.
“Give her to me!” The growling voice echoed in her mind. Despite the sound being able to make those in the area tremble from its power, all it did was make her tense and aching body relax fractionally.
“Why should we give her to you? This alliance was supposed to ensure things like this didn’t happen. And yet, here we are. The one Adaryn you were personally responsible for is near death and would have been already had we not found her!” Freya recognized the commanding voice of the warrior who held her. But she was too weak to speak up and her body still fought her to sleep.
“She is mine! Your people don’t get a say in what happens to her anymore.”
“Would you have let her die then?”
“Of course not! I was out looking for her, I’m the one who sent a messenger to your outpost!” He growled again.
“This incident could have started
a new war, mutt,”
“I’ll start one right now if you do not hand me my wife.” The threat was followed by a menacing snarl, sounding more beast than man.
Alvyna tensed with Freya in her arms. She looked down at the too small and frail Adaryn in her arms and back up the new Vargar Alpha, grimacing with monstrous fangs bared in threat.
It seemed as though it took her forever to come to a decision, even though only seconds passed. The one now dying in her arms looked all too familiar, reminding her of her failing to protect the last person dying in her arms.
If this wolf did love the girl, then she had no choice but to hand Freya over. They were at the Vargar camp and she had a handful of her soldiers standing with her. Freya needed medical attention now. She might not make it if they had gone back to the Valkyrie outpost.
With her jaw set tight Alvyna stepped forward and passed Freya into the arms of Cain. She observed how eagerly he jumped to take Freya. His mouth was parted, and his brows furrowed as he examined her. Alvyna could hear his breath leave him as he realized just how beaten Freya was, and just how blue she was turning from the cold.
“Get blankets and water. Bring the healer to my tent,” Cain barked orders to the wolves around him, but Alvyna could hear the slight tremor in his voice. One last time his red eyes looked up at her and he nodded his head in a slight show of gratitude before turning to walk away.
Alvyna thought of the way he handled Freya. Cain held her as though she was the most precious thing in the world that was moments away from breaking. He almost looked a broken man himself.
When the lone wolf had made its way to the Valkyrie outpost howling for their attention Alvyna had been the first one to jump out the door. That howl held so much raw emotion in it. Anger, grief, and desperation.
A she-wolf had relayed the news that a fire was blazing just outside the camp site. In the chaos that followed their Alpha had been murdered and Freya had been taken. With all the rain they couldn’t track her. The Vargar needed the help of Valkyries.
Ten Valkyries had been sent to aid with putting out the forest fire and fifteen had flocked to Alvyna’s side to patrol the sky and look for any signs of Freya and Ivar. It was easy enough to fly overhead and follow the direction of the trail that the Vargar had been able to track before the scent was washed away.
From there Alvyna had the flock split up into teams of three and take off into five different directions. They flew as quickly as they could with the weather conditions, they were under. Luckily the Valkyrie are the best of the best and trained in conditions such as these.
When the Commander had spotted the pale girl, she had stood out against the dark stone, lying in a heap on a portion of rock jutting out from the steep canyon walls.
Flashbacks of Raga’s last moments had spurred her on. Alvyna had spiraled down to Freya as quick as the wind fighting her would allow. In those moments Freya had looked so much like Raga that an ache had started in her chest. Worry had begun to consume her.
Now the Commander was responsible for sending word back to the outpost of what had transpired. King Aurelian and the Councilmen were still there, waiting for the storm to pass before they returned to the mountain.
The wolf they were supposed to take prisoner for instigating the battle that took Raga’s life was now dead. Although it filled her with rage that they hadn’t been able to find the damn beast after his escape, she was finally beginning to feel relief.
Maybe there was some hope going forward.
Cain was on the edge of the bed next to Freya. One of the older warriors that now acted as a healer was tending to her wounds. His heart skipped every other beat each time a new bruise or cut was revealed under the massacred fabric of her dress.
It had only been hours ago that she was sleeping so peacefully in his arms. Their two races had finally come together, and things were beginning to take a turn for the better. Cain of course hadn’t expected all animosity to disappear overnight, but they were taking the right steps.
Freya had started to forgive her father for letting her go. The death of her sister was no longer haunting her. She was finding her place within the pack and finding a voice that she’d never been allowed to have before.
What would her abduction change? How would their lives change now that he had to step up as the Alpha in his mother’s place?
His heart beat painfully in his chest to think of how Vistra had been found. His uncle had killed her in cold blood because of some ideals he couldn’t let go. Family didn’t kill family. It was unheard of, and yet they were now having to suffer through this loss.
If Freya couldn’t beat the chill taking over her body now, he couldn’t imagine going on without her.
“Is she going to be alright?” Cain asked in a hoarse voice, straining not to howl curses at the moon and sky.
The healer seemed tense, moving carefully and delicately. She didn’t want to say anything that would further upset the new Alpha.
“I believe Freya and the pup will survive as long as she is kept warm and gets rest. She went through much trauma tonight and the cold was not in their favor,” the older she-wolf nearly whispered as she continued to clean the cuts that run up and down Freya’s legs.
“What did you say?” Cain’s heart stopped beating entirely as he thought back on what the healer had just told him. A shiver ran up his spine and Cain rose from the bed, standing to his full height.
“I’m sure Freya will be fine, Alpha. She’s just cold and exhausted-” she tried to respond but was interrupted.
“No, what do you mean pup?”
“She’s carrying, Alpha. Did you not smell it on her? Though the scent is not the same as a Vargar’s would be. Though barely there, it is still distinct,” the healer tapped her finger to the side of her nose showing she trusted what she could smell. There was a hidden smile behind her light eyes that increased the intensity of the new wrinkles forming around her face.
“A pup. Mine,” Cain’s voice slipped out as barely a whisper on the wind. He fell to his knees beside the bed and looked down at the battered Adaryn in his bed. This little bird he’d given his heart to was going to be the new Wolfmother and give him his heir.
His hand lifted to brush back the platinum hair plastered to her forehead from the freezing rain. Every part of her that the healer wasn’t working on was covered with layers of blankets and furs as they worked to get her back to a comfortable temperature.
He looked over her pale face and lips almost blue from the chill that seemed it wanted to take over her entire being. Even now she was so beautiful.
“Please stay strong, little bird. I need you to stay strong. Our child needs you to stay strong. I can’t lose you,” he whispered into her ear. Even though she was asleep he believed Freya heard him. Her head tilted just slightly in his direction as though seeking him out even while unconscious.
Cain placed a gentle kiss to her temple before going back to running his hands through her hair. Brushing out the tangles and picking out whatever forest debris he found.
His little bird was going to be fine. His pup was going to be fine. Cain had to carry that hope with him because he knew if anything else happened to Freya he would be lost to the darkness.
The warmth had finally settled over Freya like a comforting blanket. All the chill in her bones finally seeping away and her usual color returning to her cheeks as the heat chased away the last blue evidence of nearly freezing to death.
Her eyelids fluttered and the little bit of light leaking into the tent caused her to promptly shut them completely once more. Freya's head was pounding, and her body was still throbbing as the aches and pains ran through her. Although they were nothing like they had been.
Admittedly, she did feel so much better.
As her senses began to return fully Freya was beginning to feel aware of the radiating warmth in the body next to her. One arm was behind her head and a large palm was against her stomach, holding her tight and protectively.
"Cain..." she groaned when her eyes fully opened, and her light blue eyes landed on the crimson orbs staring down at her. She lifted her hand meekly and placed it against Cain's cheek, caressing the scruffy beard there.
Cain lifted his hand from her belly and gently clasped her wrist, holding it in place while he turned his head and placed a kiss against the sensitive skin on Freya's wrist. Cain closed his eyes and his brows furrowed together with worry lines creasing his forehead. He let out a deep sigh against her wrist and his hot breath caused goosebumps to race up her arms.
"Freya... I'm-I can't even begin to," he started, his voice coming out shaky as he struggled to find the words he needed. "I'm so sorry." Cain's breath came out shaky as he finally got out the apology he'd been sitting on since the moment he realized Freya was gone.
The Bird and The Wolf Page 19