Chapter 11
Lyall
What if Soren never remembers?
The question haunts me as I get a fire going.
I lay Soren’s soaked clothes as close to the flames as I safely can.
Nearby, Soren rests beneath my furs, sleeping away the stress of the day.
Having him beneath me, flesh to flesh, had felt like a dream.
The urge to kiss him had nearly consumed me, but I’d sooner cut off my arm than take advantage of him in such a vulnerable state.
I must have patience and trust that this is all part of fate’s plans for us. Surely if we were so incompatible after so much time and change, we wouldn’t still be meant for each other? I have to believe that.
When I wake later, Soren still slumbers.
His clothes have dried so I drape his coat over him and take back my fur cloak.
He’ll no doubt want to wake up to a meal, and my wolf and I are more than happy to provide for him.
I leave the cave and pull up my fur hood.
The shift takes hold, and I gallop on four paws along the shore.
One day Soren will join me on hunts, and we will run on all fours side by side.
My heart will finally be complete when he returns my love.
Cold water laps at my paws as I venture out into the frothing waves.
I catch us each a fish, and when I return to the cave, Soren’s dressed and ready for the day.
“Morning,” I say. “I caught your favorite. Salmon.”
Soren stiffens, and when he smiles, it’s forced.
Oh no. Have I done something wrong already?
“Thanks,” he says.
“Something’s wrong. Tell me.”
“No, no. I just—”
“Soren.”
His shoulders slump. “Thank you so much, Lyall. I’m not the biggest fan of seafood.”
I work hard to keep my expression neutral. We used to sit on the shore together, light a fire, and cook our catch together. He’d smile as I hand-fed him pieces of salmon. He’d lay his head on my shoulder and sigh as the waves crashed on the shore.
This is perfect, Lyall. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
I try to smile, though I’m unsure how convincing it is. “That’s all right. No need to force yourself.”
So what if he doesn’t like fish? Tastes can change. It doesn’t mean anything.
Soren sighs heavily. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. That was rude of me. I’m sure it will taste great if you cook it.”
“Sit tight. It’ll be ready soon.” I grab my tools from my pack.
“Do you know where we are?” Soren asks.
I sharpen my hunting knife. “I’ve brought us to the island of your birth. Your village is only a few miles from this cave. After we break our fast, I will lead you there.”
“What’s there that’s so important?”
I look over my shoulder at him, needing to see his reaction to make certain he is comfortable with this. “Your childhood. Your parents. The fate of your village.”
“Fate of my village…” Soren wets his lips. “Guessing it wasn’t a happy ending.”
I set down my knife and reach out to take his hand. “Was I wrong to bring you here?”
Soren shakes his head, and his eyes burn with resolve. “No. I need to see them. My parents. Fergus lied and told me that my mother had abandoned me. I want to know who they were. That’s all that matters.”
Then I will support him in this. I lift the knife and bring it down hard, preparing the fish for roasting.
“Oh. That’s a lot of blood…” Soren’s faint voice alarms me. When I look back at him, he’s astonishingly pale. I look down at my hands, red and wet, then back at him.
“So?”
Soren swallows thickly. “Nothing. Just… Excuse me.” He lurches to his feet and stumbles outside.
Before I can ask what’s wrong, the sound of puking makes me wince. The sight of a dead fish did that to him? The man I knew didn’t bat an eye at the sight of blood. This version of Soren is soft and sheltered. Nothing like the man I fell in love with.
Are we too different now to share a life together?
I lead the way to the village of Soren’s birth. I’ve visited here many times over the years in my search for anything that reminded me of my mate. I made sure to send us back only a day before the attack on the village so we could witness it together, but now I’m second-guessing myself.
Soren said he wanted to know, and I must respect that, but I fear seeing such a painful memory will do more harm than good. I’d only wanted him to see our story from the beginning.
“Mayhap we should visit another memory.”
Soren shakes his head. “No. I want to see my parents.” He moves past me, quickening his pace. “Can anyone in this time see us?”
I shake my head. “No. We cannot change events that have already come to pass. It goes against the laws of time travel. There are exceptions, of course.”
“What kind of exceptions?”
“Meeting those we are destined for. The witches could never find a way to prevent those fated for each other from altering the timelines. Some things are simply meant to be.”
Soren looks back at me, frowning. “Fated? Like soulmates?”
I nod slowly, worrying that he will ask if that’s what we are to each other. I want to explain, but at my own pace. He’s already been through quite a shock.
The wind carries the sounds of civilization toward us.
Before I know it, we’re walking the dirt road into Soren’s village.
The market is packed. Farmers sell their goods.
Children chase each other through the crowd, passing right through us as if we aren’t there at all.
I reach for Soren and take his hand before I can stop myself.
He tenses, cheeks flushing as he looks my way.
I clear my throat. “Best to stick together, aye?”
“Y-yeah.” He smiles sweetly and doesn’t pull away as we venture farther into town. “Everything looks normal,” he remarks.
If only he knew how quickly things can turn for the worst in this time. “It will happen soon.”
Soren worries his lip. “What will?”
“The attack. Come, let’s find your family.”
“My family?” Soren grips my hand tighter.
I lead the way from the market, walking the familiar path to Soren’s family home.
It’s a large home. Thanks to their thriving farm and his mother’s skills as a seamstress, they’re able to afford a comfortable life.
In the pasture, cattle graze and chickens roam freely from the yard and into the home.
Soren’s mouth quirks. “We let our animals inside the house?”
“Many do.” It’s strange to him, no doubt.
Soren gasps softly as a boy follows one of the chickens out into the yard. He’s got the same dark hair and eyes as the man beside me. “Is that… that’s me, isn’t it?” Soren hurries closer, leaning on the fence to get a better look at his younger self.
Past Soren scatters feed around the pasture for the chickens, smiling when a cow wanders over to sniff curiously at his hand. “Holy shit. That’s me.” Soren covers his mouth, eyes wide.
I chuckle. “Aye, it is. You were a cute pup.”
Soren shakes his head, mouth agape. “I thought I believed you but seeing it for myself… it’s something else.”
A woman walks from the house, her dress swishing around her ankles in the breeze. She has the same dark hair as Soren, the same eyes, and even the same nose. Beside me, Soren’s eyes water and his hand falls away from his mouth.
Soren’s mother rushes forward, scooping up her son. Past Soren laughs, squirming to get free. “Mother, you scared me!”
She kisses his hair. “Come inside and eat. I made your favorite.” She takes his hand and leads him into the house.
“She didn’t leave me,” Soren whispers beside me. He wipes away a tear that spilled down his cheek. “She loved me.”
I give his shoulder a squeeze. “Want to go inside?”
“Can we?”
Smiling, I take his hand, and we pass right through the door and into the home.
Fire burns in the hearth as Soren and his mother sit at the table, eating together.
The door swings open, and my grip on Soren’s hand tightens as a man enters the room.
He has the same dark hair as Soren, but that’s where the resemblance ends, and I’m glad for it.
“How did the hunt fare?” Soren’s mother asks, smiling brightly.
Soren’s father leans down to kiss her cheek. “Our larders are full. We will have full bellies this winter.” He turns to Soren. “Did you take care of the farm and mind your mother in my absence, boy?”
Soren nods seriously. “Yes, sir.”
His father’s face softens, and he ruffles Soren’s hair. My hands twitch, longing to smack his hand away from Soren.
“Are you okay?” Soren asks.
I exhale. “It’s… difficult to see your father, knowing the things he will do. But here, he was a different man. Grief and loss changed him.”
Soren frowns beside me. “Why? What happened?”
Screams fill the air beyond the hut.
“What’s happened?” Soren’s mother rushes to the window, and Present Soren hurries to look past her. “Oh gods! Wolves!”
Soren looks at me with wide eyes. “What’s going on?”
Before I can answer, Soren’s father is on his feet and grabbing a pitchfork by the door. “Stay inside!” he orders, then rushes outside to fend off the attack.
“Pa!” Past Soren cries, running after him. His mother grabs his shoulders and hauls him back. She kicks the door shut and turns to her son.
“Your father will be fine. It’s just wolves.”
“But they aren’t, are they?” Present Soren asks beside me, his face pale.
I shake my head. “No wolves would be so cruel as to attack a village. They are a pack of ulfhednar. They came from across the sea to raid and kill.” Soren’s hand quivers in mine. “We don’t have to stay for this.”
Soren’s mother screams as dozens of paws slam into the front door. Furious snarls and barks come from beyond, and the door rattles under the pressure of countless claws tearing into the wood.
Soren’s mother scoops up her son and races for the back door just as a storm of wolves bursts into the cabin. She runs outside and slams the back door on them, and Present Soren races through the walls and outside, bringing me with him.
Soren’s mother runs toward the woods, carrying Soren in her arms. Wolves pursue her.
A voice cries out, “To me, foul beasts!” Soren’s father hoists his pitchfork and points it at the pack.
A few wolves rush him, but a couple others chase after Soren and his mother.
The wolves hurl themselves at Soren’s father, and though he manages to stab a few, he’s tackled to the ground.
Present Soren looks away, eyes shut tight as his father screams.
“We need to follow my mother!” Soren races off toward the woods.
I know that despite his injuries, Soren’s father will live, the only survivor of the attack aside from his son. He’ll get stronger, driven by fury and lust for revenge, and years from now he will come to our shores with a small army disguised as missionaries.
If I could kill him now and prevent the suffering to come, I would do so in a heartbeat.
But I can’t. Nothing can change what has already come to pass. All that matters now is that I have Soren, and he needs me. Grabbing hold of my resolve, I race after Soren and into the woods. His mother has managed to shake the wolves for now. They sniff among the leaves, growling in agitation.
“Where is she?” Present Soren asks, looking around.
I grab his hand and lead the way deeper into the trees. Ahead of us, Soren’s mother’s run has slowed to a limp. Blood weeps from her ankle.
“M-Ma?” Past Soren whimpers in her arms. “Hurry. You have to hurry!”
With a gasp of pain, his mother stumbles, Soren toppling from her arms. He scrambles up and grabs her hand.
“I… I can’t go any faster, my love,” his mother says through pained gasps.
“Yes, you can!” Soren urges, pulling on her hand. Tears and dirt streak his cheeks. “Please, Ma!”
The pain clouding his mother’s eyes disperses. I follow her stare to the hollowed base of a tree. Grabbing her son’s arm, she drags him toward the trunk. “Inside, boy, hurry!”
Soren’s lip quivers as he looks up at his mother. “You hide too.”
“Listen to me.” She grips both his shoulders.
“We’re going to play a game. You be as quiet as you can and don’t move from this spot.
No matter what happens. I’m going to lead the beasts away but I will come back.
When I do, we’ll find your father and we’ll go far away. We’ll start anew somewhere else.”
Tears spill down Soren’s cheeks. “Promise.”
She takes his small hand and kisses his palm. “I promise.” She wipes his tears away with her thumbs. “Now, you be strong for me. Quiet as a mouse and still as a tree.”
Sniffling, Soren squeezes into the large hole in the trunk.
“Good lad,” his mother says, eyes damp but voice full of pride. She backs away from the trunk, eyes never straying from her son’s.
Leaves crunch under paws. Snarls get louder, closer.
Soren’s mother rips off the hem of her dress and binds it tight around her bloodied ankle. “Beasts! Here I am!” She takes off running. Several wolves tear past the trunk where Past Soren is hidden. True to his word, he remains still.
It will be three days before my father and a few of his men find him and take him away.
He will never see his mother again.
“She left me,” Soren whispers. It hurts to look at the tears glinting on his cheeks. “She comes back. Doesn’t she?”
I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing.
Soren exhales shakily. “Does anyone come for me?”
“Aye,” I say quickly. Slipping my arm around his shoulders, I turn him away from the tree his younger self hides in. “Not right away, but my father finds you and brings you to our village.”
“Can we, I don’t know, skip ahead to that?”
“Of course.”
Soren wipes away his tears and gifts me with a wobbly smile. “Thank you, Lyall.”