For centuries, we have trained as one, guided by raw strength and instinct. But now, Noël brings us something new. She transforms our chaos into precision, our instinct into strategy. She makes us more than brutal beasts.
The time of useless strikes is over. Tomorrow, we fight as a force united. Each warrior will carry more than raw strength into battle, they will carry purpose. Noël’s vision has forged this into being, and from it, we have shaped three main forces:
Claw Force, the backbone of our strength, the fangs of our might. When they charge, the ground will quake beneath them, and nothing will stand in their path. Their purpose is to break and destroy.
Shade Force, the eyes in the shadows, the ears in the silence. They will see what others cannot, move where others dare not tread, and strike before the enemy even knows they are there.
Crystal Force, the healers and protectors, the salvation in the chaos. They will tend to the wounded, shield the weak, and save those who might otherwise be lost. The women and children we free may be hurt, and it will be Crystal Force that keeps them—and us—standing.
When we attack, the warriors will divide into packs, and each pack will carry the strength of all three forces: the might of the Claw, the cunning of the Shade, and the resilience of the Crystal.
This is the structure we bring to the battle ahead. No longer lost wolves, we are an army. Noël has given us this vision, and together, we will show the tsar’s forces what it means when the vólkins rise united.
“Do you remember how Kaël tried to dig under the barrier to find his mate?” Aeson says, amused.
Kaël groans, rolling his eyes. “Oh, come on?—”
“Only to discover the barrier continued underground,” Zephyr adds with a chuckle.
A grin tugs at my mouth as I recall those days. We were frustrated, desperate, and willing to do anything to break free. It feels good to laugh about it now, even if the memory is painful.
“Before you decorate me,” I say, opening and closing my paws, “I want to check on our ‘visitor.’”
My fur is already dry, and soon, I’ll be ready for my bratya to adorn me for my mate. As Elder Aïna explained to us during our bonding ritual lesson, males must always look their best for their mates, as a sign of honor and respect.
This is especially true for tonight. Until women awaken, they don’t feel the bond as strongly as we do. And during the ritual, when the vólkin gives his vows, it is her choice whether to accept them or not.
Tonight, she will choose me.
I walk up to Gregor’s house.
Though calling it “his house” feels like the wrong way to describe it. This is a vólkin home, grown for a woman who doesn’t have a mate to create one for her. A skill this human could never master, no matter how long he lived.
Orïon stands near the entrance, his posture stiff and his expression dark. This is his punishment for reckless behavior, a fitting one.
“How’s our guest?” I ask, stopping just outside the door. Gregor is asleep, snoring so loudly I don’t need vólkin senses to notice.
“Still breathing,” Orïon grunts. He’s angry.
Not surprising. I don’t think I’ve ever had a normal conversation with Orïon. Every exchange has felt like a competition, one I’ve won every time.
“Anything unusual about him?”
Orïon lets out a sharptsk, his ears flicking in annoyance. “No,” he finally says.
Fine. Nothing unusual it is.
“He’s very talkative,” Orïon adds after a moment.
I tilt my head. “What does he talk to you about?”
“Stupid nonsense, Theron,” he bursts out. “Instead of training with the others, instead of preparing for war tomorrow likeeveryone else, I’m stuck here with this human! Standing around, listening to thecrapthat comes out of his mouth!”
“You were assigned to stay in Ávera with your pack,” I say. “You’re fulfilling a mission that is just as important as the rest.”
His empty eye socket has healed, the scars from my claws permanent marks now. Within the vólkins, asserting dominance isn’t new. It’s part of who we are. Most of the time, we respect each other’s achievements, keeping the balance Elder Aïna always preaches: “We are one big family, and we must treat each other as such.”
But even in families, there are prideful warriors who can’t resist the urge to challenge authority.
