“You will have them too, my mate,” I say, releasing my cock as the tension becomes too uncomfortable. My sac growing too tight.
“Me? What do you mean?”
“After the bonding ritual, you will awaken. You’ll become your true self. Every spiritual being has crystals, and you are no exception. They will be blue like mine, like the blue rose.”
Her eyes widen. “How? What?”
“My mother had crystals, Kaël’s mother, Aeson’s mother, they all had crystals.”
Her expression shifts, something I can’t quite place.
“Your mother was human... right?” she asks, leaning close and resting her hand in my paw.
“Yes,” I confirm, tilting my head as I watch her. “What is it?”
“How did your parents die?” Her voice is quieter now. “Ánya and Vládan.”
A smile tugs at my mouth. “You know their names. Let’s sit, and I’ll explain everything.”
I lead her to a calloused tree, its shadow shielding us from the warmth of the spring sun. Sitting down, I motion for her to settle between my thighs. She grips her gown before sitting—carefully avoiding my cock—and looking up at me.
“Before the barrier appeared, a curse of flesh swept through Ávera,” I begin.
“A sickness?” Noël asks, her brows furrowing.
I nod. “There is a plant, an apple from the tree of knowledge, that can cure such harsh diseases, but it only grows in the far north, far beyond these lands. Elder Aïna said the grown vólkinsdecided to travel there together to gather enough of the herb and return safely, as humans roamed the land at that time.”
“Did Elder Aïna go as well?”
I shake my head. “She stayed with us, the pups.”
Her expression softens, her eyes glistening as she leans back against my chest. “And they never came back?”
The words are heavy on my tongue, the pain fresh even after all these years. “No, they didn’t.”
I do not remember my parents, only the stories Elder Aïna told me. She always says my mother was like dawn’s first light, happy, and always seeing the good in others. My father, she said, loved her deeply. He was more serious, and Elder Aïna often remarks that I resemble him.
I tug my mate against me, wrapping my arms around her, shielding her from my own words. “The barrier appeared the night they left Ávera.”
“Maybe they’re still alive! Maybe they settled near the barrier, hoping it would disappear so they could come back.” Her eyes shine with so much hope it pains me.
“Elder Aïna said,” I begin, exhaling, “that all their souls have reached the skies.”
Her expression softens, and she leans closer, wrapping her arms around my neck. She presses her forehead to mine and whispers, “I am so, so sorry.”
My sweet mate. Even with all her strength and fire, she holds compassion like no other. The goddesses chose the perfect female for me, and I will carry gratitude for that with me for the rest of my days.
“Let’s start training, my dove.”
34
A BROKEN SOLDIER
“I hate askin, Gregor. I know yu have nothin left to give, and stil I ask. But when yu stoped writing, I new... I’d asked too much. I’m sory. I just didn’ know who else too turn to. You’re all I hav.”
—Linnéa Fenrówe, in a letter never sent
Gregor
