I carved the symbol of the rose into the side, like Father taught me. It felt right, like I was giving her a part of our family, a piece of who we are.
I’ve never been this happy. I’ve never felt this much love. Ándor says she’ll grow up strong and smart, that she’ll do great things. I believe him. How could I not?
My baby, Noël, will be happy just like I am. When a white dove appeared today, I gave her water, and Noël, the little darling, got excited in my belly.
It happened so suddenly. I was in the garden, tending to the roses, when Ándor stiffened. His ears twitching, he turned toward the trees and said, “They’re here.”
The tsar’s men. They found us. I don’t know how, but they’re here.
Ándor told me to stay inside. Told me not to worry because one vólkin can kill a hundred men. I wanted to believe him. Iwanted to trust him. But I saw the way his claws flexed, the way his tail lashed. He was ready to fight.
I heard the screams first. The clash of steel, the roar of his voice, the cries of the men who dared to face him. I wanted to run to him, to help, but he made me promise to stay. So I stayed. I waited. I prayed.
And then... silence. No more screams. No more steel. Nothing but the wind in the trees and the pounding of my heart.
I told myself he would come back. He promised he would. I waited by the door, my belly heavy, my hands trembling. But he didn’t come.
When I couldn’t wait anymore, I stepped outside, into the air thick with the smell of blood. The ground was littered with bodies, hundreds of them. The tsar’s men, their swords broken, their armor shattered. He killed them all.
And then I saw my Ándor. My mate. My love. Lying among the dead, his body still, his fur matted with blood. I screamed. Fell to my knees. I begged him to wake up, but he didn’t.
The goddesses didn’t listen to my prayers.
He fought for us. For me. For our Noël. He wouldn’t let them touch us. But the cost...
I buried him by the house. He was so heavy and my belly hurt. If I hadn’t begun my awakening, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. I pressed my forehead to his, the way he used to, and told him I would protect her. I promised him his sacrifice wouldn’t be in vain.
I will raise her to be strong. I will raise her to be ready. She will carry his strength and his honor. She will make this world better for all of us.
My belly is heavy and my heart is broken. I can’t stay here for much longer. I have to find a way to survive. I can’t hunt, can’t even move much anymore.
I’m tired.
My Noël is kicking harder every day.
She is strong, but I am not.
38
THE ECHOES OF THE FALLEN AND THE STRENGTH TO RISE AGAIN
“He came out growling, Vládan. Not crying, growling. I swear the goddesses tucked a storm in his lungs and claws in his smile. This one will lead. His roar will silence storms, and his silence will make tsars tremble. I don’t need a vision to see it. I’ve grown it in my womb.”
—Ánya Volkóva to her mate, Vládan, the night Theron was born
Noël
Shewas supposed to be the leader. The Lidéren.
All my mother wanted was a world where I could breathe without asking permission.
Theron holds my face with both paws, his eyes on mine, grounding me in the storm of emotions. “Noël,” he whispers.
“My mother...” I falter, my throat burns. “My mother was raped and abused for years. She lost her parents. She was so strong, Theron. She didn’t even know it. She had no idea how strong she was!” The words burst out, cutting through the silence in this cold house.
Theron pulls me into his arms. “Your mother was a true warrior.”
“She endured so much, Theron.” My voice breaks as I bury my face in his fur. “She sacrificed everything for me. She went through so much pain... She wanted to raise me here, with my father, with Ándor.”
