Everyone in the room steps forward, each holding a candle adorned with carvings. The warm glow dances, lighting the room against the falling night.
“With this fire,” Elder Aïna begins, “we will light the fire of your awakening.”
“You will walk in the middle,” Essin explains, her tone brimming with excitement, “and the four of us will be by your sides.”
“And we, Ethereal Leader, will follow behind you,” one of the nýmphí says with a kind smile.
Elder Aïna steps closer. “The woman shall walk a moonlit path, for all the witness circle to see.”
“A circle... as in the circle of life?” I ask.
“You learn fast,” she says with a broad smile, and I notice the pride in her voice.
I’m left alone in my home. Maminka and systritsy went ahead to ensure everything is in place. It might not have been the best idea to leave me by myself. Alone with my thoughts. My thoughts... they scare me sometimes. They pull me into places so dark I barely recognize myself. Sometimes, it feels like something takes over, whispering things I can’t ignore. I was never a sensitive person, not much of a positive one either. I’ve always been running, always trying to meet someone else’s expectations. My mother expected me to be the best at everything. My commanders were always watching, waiting for me to make a mistake so they could justify kicking me out. And the soldiers? They saw me as competition more than anything else. I’ve always felt the need to prove myself. Here, it’s no different.
But what I’ve been through so far? It’s nothing compared to what’s coming. Now, I’m a leader—a leader of the whole fucking world.Vathéria.Do I take the north too? Two continents. Two worlds. How many lives will be lost? How many wolves will suffer?
What if I fail? Will I survive? If I die, Theron dies too.
I’ve never been in a war. The last one was lifetimes ago. Did my mother know she was preparing me for this? Did she ever think I’d end up leading armies? That I’d want to kill the tsar?
I do want to kill him. Not just for what he’s done to Vathéria, but for what he did to her. He raped her. Over and over again. I’ll fulfill her wish. When I get to him, I’ll cut off his cock and make him hold it as he watches himself burn, bleeding into the fire. Yes. That’s exactly what I’ll do.
Here they are again. My dark thoughts.
But tonight, I must be free of them. I must let my mind find peace, if only for a while. Not the best timing, considering tomorrow I might die. But... I might not. It’s not all as bad as I fear.
Yes. I’ll free women, children, elders. I’ll break their chains of suffering. I’m healthy. Stronger than I’ve ever been. I’m surrounded by people—vólkins—who trust me, who stand with me. And I know more about my mother now than I ever did when she was alive.
And then there’s Theron.
My big, sweet wolf. Reserved most of the time, but always kind. He takes care of me. He’s strong and steadfast. He never puts me down or tells me I can’t do something. He didn’t laugh or call me insane for wanting a war. He encouraged it. A smile tugs at my lips.
Maybe he’s just as insane as I am. I miss him. The past few days, we’ve barely had a moment to be together.
Heavy thudding reaches my ears. Footsteps. Elder Aïna and the others. I stand, smoothing my dress as I inhale. The blue roses in our home seem to glow brighter than ever tonight.
It’s time.
53
THE NIGHT THE BLUE ROSE CLAIMED HER THRONE
“She will not slip quietly into this world, Ándor. She will be carved out by blood and broken by destiny. One day, she will wear a crown not of gold, but of thorns. And when she binds herself to him, the world will bleed to make way.”
—Eyleen Ársa to Ándor, resting her hand over her belly
Noël
The moon hangs high in the dark sky, bright and beautiful, almost at its peak.
We walk slowly toward the sacred glade. Elder Aïna and Mina walk to my right, while Naïa and Essin walk to my left. Each holds a candle in their paws, their flames flickering in the night air. Two nýmphí follow close behind, holding the edges of my veil, and the rest trail silently after us. My heart pounds, and I feel every step I take. Literally.
Every blade of grass beneath my bare feet, every small rock pressing into my soles—I feel them all, as if each demands my attention. I can count them as I walk.
This isn’t normal.
And I amsohungry.
