“This also means they know we’ll perform the bonding ritual at the full moon,” Theron adds, leaning against the table beside him.
“You don’t understand!” The words burst out of me before I can stop them. Noël’s eyes widen at my sudden outburst, butI continue, my voice rising in pitch. “They’re everywhere! They have shadows in every village! I saw one of them returning in disguise, dressed as a blacksmith!” My words spill out in a frantic rush, my fingers gripping my knees so hard it hurts. “They had me discharged from the army!”
“What?” Noël breathes, leaning forward, her wide eyes growing even larger. “How?”
“They brought me to the healer in Tárnov.” My voice shakes as I explain. “At our base. He declared me unfit to serve. It was all arranged so no one would question my disappearance.” I inhale slowly, trying to steady myself. “They hold so much power... I was so scared...” Tears streak down my face as I murmur those last words. The fear was real. It clung to me every day, every sleepless night. And it wasn’t only for me. It was for Linnéa too. Bard had told me how she was holding up.
For months, I hadn’t been able to send her money. My own foolishness burned through it when I started sneaking out of the barracks to the shadowy underside of the market.
The whores had their charms, luring men for prices that seemed reasonable—at least until you realized the madam pocketed every coin. The gambling houses, connected to one brotherhood or another, were even worse. If you couldn’t pay, their enforcer would come, and suddenly you’d find yourself enslaved to their debts.
Those places were dark, dangerous, and of course, I was always stupid enough to go back. Month by month, I lost everything. I had nothing left to send her.
Poor Linnéa.
Bard said she was fine with them, that she had her own room at one of their bases. She’d be safe, he promised, so long as I didn’t make a mistake, but his reassurance did little to ease my guilt.
“What else have you told them?” Theron demands. “It seems like there’s more to your story than you initially claimed. ‘I haven’t told them anything’ doesn’t quite meannothing, does it, Gregor?”
Oh shit. My heart pounds so hard it feels like it might burst from my chest. Cold sweat beads on my forehead, and my breath comes shallow and quick. Did I already screw this up? It hasn’t even been a full day.
“No . . . No . . .” I stammer. “Try to understand!”
“Understand what?” Theron leans in close, grasping my jaw in his clawed hand. His strength is terrifying. I can feel the power in his grip, controlled but on the verge of something far worse.
Oh gods. Oh gods.
“I . . . I . . .”
“You. What?” Theron growls, his teeth bared, his face inches from mine.
“That’s enough, Theron!” Noël’s voice snaps through the room, and she pulls him away from me.
Oh thank the gods. Mama, I’ll never swear on you again. I promise.
“He is lying!” Theron’s voice is thunderous. “Don’t you see that?”
“He is NOT lying, Theron! You’ve never been scared in your life. You don’t know what it’s like to stand before creatures twice your size, to feel so small, so helpless, knowing your life could be snuffed out at any moment.” She slams her hand on the table.
The sound cracks through the silence, and I flinch, my body taut with nerves.Noël. Standing up for me like this.
“Do you think his mind was stable when he arrived here? When the vólkins treated him like nothing more than a piece of horse shit?” Her voice is a cold command when she says, “Get out of here.”
What? How? She just . . . ?
Theron snarls, the sound reverberating through the house before he storms out and slams the door behind him.
I swallow hard. Did that really just happen?
Noël sighs, shaking her head as if she’s used to this kind of display. Without a word, she walks to the kitchen area. She pours water into a small cup, then another.
I hesitate before following her. “Is... is everything alright?”
“Don’t worry about him,” she says, handing me one of the cups. “Vólkin pride is something else entirely, but I won’t let him treat you like that.”
I drink, and the cool water soothes my dry throat. Up close, Noël seems so much smaller than I expected. I’d only ever seen her from a distance during my time in the army, always carrying herself with an air of authority. Seeing her like this, soft and approachable, stirs something in me. She is, after all, a woman.
She takes my hand suddenly, her fingers warm against mine. Her smile is gentle. “Trust me, Gregor, I’ll stand up for you every time.”
