“As for the women and elders.” My tone softens, and I pull my sword free. “You will be given a choice. These vólkins,” I say, sweeping my hand toward the warriors standing at attention. “I’m sure you’ve heard of them, beasts lurking in the shadows, hunters of those who cross their path.”
A low, rumbling growl passes through the ranks of my warriors, standing tall in front of the women, as they lift their paws to their hearts.
“These vólkins are your shield and your sword. Your muscle and your claw.” I wait a moment to let my words settle. “The first option is to stay in your village, free of the fate that shackled you. We came to set your souls alight.”
A hush settles over the women. Some exchange glances, their faces torn between doubt and a fragile, desperate hope. The children remain distracted, fully entranced by the roses.
At least they understand I’m here to help. “The second option is to come with me. To Ávera.” Mother, Father, I hope you see me well from above. “In Ávera, you will be given a home. A place of safety. A place that glows with life, not decay.” My voice grows stronger. “You will see land untouched by cruelty, filled with vivid color, fruits you’ve never tasted, fresh water as clear as the sky, warmth that is not given as a privilege but as a right.”This is what they were never allowed to dream of.
“And you will be free.”
Some of them gasp, some press hands over their mouths as if afraid to believe it.
“The third option,” I continue, “is for those who want more. Those who want to build something greater.” I let my gaze sweep across the crowd. “I want to educate you.”
A ripple of murmurs passes through the women. Knowledge was never theirs to claim. Not before.
“In Ávera, you will have the chance to learn. I will teach you, and I will have educators to guide you. You will read, you will write, and you will grow.” I take a deep breath. “And I will need healers to mend the wounded. I will need artists to shape the new world. I will need minds to lead, create, and teach. Those who wish to fight—to take up the sword and defend the ones who cannot—I will train you.”
Some women clutch their children tighter, looking into their eyes. A spark.
I clench my fist, raising my voice to the skies. “The old laws have no place in the world I am building.” I point toward the burning remains of Borodýn. “This—this—is what the old world gave you.” I press a hand to my chest. “I offer you something new. First, a home. Then, a future. And lastly, a purpose.”
58
ONE VILLAGE CLAIMED, A THOUSAND MORE TO SAVE
“When Éva breathed life into the world, she shaped it for the bond between spirit and strength—for the woman and the vólkin. In their union, the earth itself finds peace.”
—Elder Aïna
Theron
So many females in one place, and yet not a single warrior has found his mate.
There are too few vólkins compared to the number of females. Too few mates to be found. And none of these females are one of the five we are searching for. But this is only the first village. We have an entire land to conquer, a world to reshape.
Things take time. And no one understands patience better than a vólkin. Every warrior sniffs the air, desperate to catch a scent, to find her. But their snouts do not betray them. When I first scented my mate, my body acted on pure instinct. Had I not overpowered my own desires, I fear what I might have done to her.
Going against nature is a dangerous game.
Locking a few hundred vólkins away, forcing them to exist without their other halves, without their fated mates, was the worst kind of cruelty. Now, I know what it means to be whole. My soul is warm, a constant burn that soothes and heals. As if she is the cure to every sickness I have ever carried. I cannot imagine parting from her. I wouldn’t survive it. The agony, the longing—it would end me.
“We’ve been here our whole lives, child. How can we believe you speak the truth?” An elder female breaks the silence. Among the hundreds of females staring at us with wide eyes, she is the only one brave enough to speak.
It is hard for me to understand their fear. We came here. We took their abusers. We offered them freedom. And still, they hesitate. Why? My mate even thought of the nýmphí, ensuring the females would feel safe. Their homes are nothing but dead trees, their air stagnant with dust and filth. The soil beneath them is lifeless, not a single plant grows where it should. They do not know what it means to breathe freely. They only need to see Ávera, and they will understand what my mate offers them. But this conversation is a human matter. So I will not interfere.
“My name is Noël Ársa, and I come from Tárnov,” my mate answers the elder. I barely register her words before my gaze lands on one of the pathetic males shackled in the dirt. Disgust burrows into my chest. How could any of these females have ever mated with them?
Even if I had the longest claws in Ávera, I wouldn’t lay a single one on them. Let alone take them as a mate.
Gasps ripple through the females. Why?
“You are the girl who is wanted!” one of them exclaims.
Another nods quickly, eyes darting between the others. “Yes! Yes! I heard from the farmers. There were men who helped you escape. They were hanged in Tárnov’s square!”
I freeze. She never told me someone helped her escape. She was??—
