Chapter 5 Meryn
MERYN
The Sovereign Alpha’s chambers are practical, with minimal ornamentation and wide doors that take up one of the walls and lead directly out to the grounds. The less ornamentation, the less likely a vase or a chandelier will be shattered by a wolf’s tail. And the wide doors give Anassa easy access.
There are a few luxuries, though.
The first is a bedroom off the living area with a massive bed nearly big enough for Anassa to stretch out in.
The second, a beautiful hearth with the four pack symbols carved above it, surrounded by well-cushioned armchairs.
The third, a gigantic bathing room with a sunken bath that I spent an eternity in before changing into clean clothes.
Finally, a huge wooden desk with a pack of running wolves carved along its edge in exquisite detail.
I run my fingertip over the divots in the wood as I sit down to study the books Matron Alienor gave me.
Before I can make too much sense of what I’m looking at, a tapping sound from outside makes me lift my head and rub my eyes. It’s Anassa; I can tell without looking.
Sliding the heavy bolt to the left, I shove the doors open with a grunt. They swing wide out toward the grassy space beyond and reveal my direwolf.
Anassa wastes no time entering. Her tail swishes, brushing up against me as she pads inside with a few clicks of her nails on the stone.
My chest tightens with anxiety even as my shoulders drop in relief at the sight of her. So much has happened in so little time, and we haven’t really had a chance to admit that to each other.
Yet, seeing her, I can breathe deeply. That’s how it’s been ever since the truth came out.
A cool breeze coasts through the open doors, stirring her fur and my hair, both silver-white but reflecting tones of copper from the firelight.
It’s time. We need to get this all out. “I realize that a lot of what happened over the past four months was my fault,” I tell her, taking the first step.
I speak the words out loud, not just over our mental bond. It makes them more permanent; they can’t be brushed away like a thought. I have to taste the weight of every single one on my tongue.
Anassa’s golden eyes widen. Her head lowers so she can look more directly at me.
It’s difficult, sometimes, speaking to her like this. Her expressions are so subtle, lost behind fur and canine features. If she isn’t willing to let me in on her emotions through the bond, the subtle indications in her eyes or her ears could mean anything from surprise to anger.
I swallow down my nerves and keep going.
“It took me too long to accept our bond and even longer to figure out how to communicate with you properly. And maybe I still don’t…
” I shake my head and pivot. “I’ve made mistakes, not being honest with myself and others.
So I’m going to stop that. From now on, complete honesty between you and me, Anassa. ”
Her eyes narrow. Fuck. Just keep going.
“And with that, I have to tell you…” I swallow.
This is hard. But honesty, honesty. “I am really fucking hurt that you treated me the way you did. I know you couldn’t tell me anything because of the blood curse, but I often felt like you were working against me.
And I don’t understand why you acted like that. ”
There’s a long moment of silence. The hearth pops, sending a tiny coal scattering across the stones. I watch it slowly fade to soot until I sense Anassa’s movement.
She steps closer and then settles onto the floor at my feet. She lowers herself right to my level, and I swear there’s something solemn in her eyes.
Maybe she’s not as difficult to read as I thought.
“I have been alone for a very long time, Meryn,” Anassa tells me.
The words sink into my soul.
Alone.
I remember what the other recruits said when we reached the peak of the Ascent. Anassa had been atop that mountain for years upon years. And when I first saw her, she was separate from the rest of the direwolves.
She had a mate, but that mate was away from her, gone at the front with his rider.
“My mother was the direwolf bonded to Queen Chiara Sturmfrost,” Anassa tells me.
My lips part. Anassa’s mother, bonded to the last true queen of Nocturna. Something tugs in my chest. Something familiar and heavy and cold.
Grief—that deep cut that fades but never truly heals.
My heart opens up to Anassa like a neglected flower getting its first glimpse of sunlight.
“Direwolves have remarkably long lives, as you have learned. We can live up to a thousand years while searching for the right rider. We only choose once, and we tie our lives to our chosen, so we must pick correctly. And I…” She blinks slowly. “I waited centuries for you.”
For me.
Centuries on her own, waiting for someone she wasn’t even sure would ever come. I used to think Anassa was impatient, but she endured years and years of longing just so we could find each other.
“Were any other direwolves waiting?” I ask. “Any wolves your age or older?”
“No.”
My throat tightens. How lonely that must have been.
A cold wave of shame washes over me. I could have known any of this about her if I’d just asked sooner. If I’d been more interested in the history of the direwolves, if I had made a better effort to get to know the being I’d tied my life to.
It’s hard to leave room for curiosity or questioning when every moment is a battle for survival, but that’s not an excuse.
From now on, I need to do better—not just with Anassa, with everything.
“Stark and Cratos had informed me that you were coming, so I was prepared to bond with you. But after waiting all this time, I found myself attached to a resentful rider.”
Another failure. Stark said something similar. He spent his entire life waiting for the Sturmfrost royal to bond, and he got me, mess that I am.
“The hurt that caused me, Meryn…” Anassa lays her muzzle on the ground and closes her eyes, exhaling a hot breath in a huff. “My instincts took over. I would have done anything to stop the agony of your resentment and rejection. I needed to keep my distance or I would have ripped out your throat.”
My eyes start to burn, and I reach out, scratching the fur behind her ears. “Thanks for not killing me,” I say softly. “Even though I probably deserved it.”
“We are alike,” Anassa tells me. And I want to argue with her. I don’t know how she could compare her centuries of wisdom to my pathetic flailing. But then she says, “We are both hotheaded and strong-willed, qualities that each of us needs to work on.”
I let my grin take over. “Not always a great combination.”
“It is a powerful combination. But for it to work, yes, we both need to communicate better,” she replies. She brings her head closer to me, leaning into my ear scratches. “I am sorry if my actions caused you pain.”
“I’m sorry, too. I’m lucky to have you. I always have been.”
Anassa nudges closer still, and I bend forward to rest my face against her forehead, breathing in the familiar scent of her fur.
My direwolf.
I pull away gently and then say, somewhat reluctantly, “About Stark and Cratos.” I don’t want to have this part of the conversation, but I need to know. “What I felt in the dungeons, when you took down all your shields—”
“My love for Cratos,” she says. “The mate bond is strong. I will continue to shield you from that. We direwolves know that the mate bond can cause confusion for our riders, especially if the riders themselves are not romantically involved.”
I swallow. “And… Stark? Does Cratos shield his love toward you as well so that Stark is not affected?”
My assumption, when I was first hit with Anassa’s mate bond, was that Stark was grappling with that sensation the entire time I was bonded to her.
It would be a relief to know that he’s not.
I’m still not sure what to think about him. He’s obviously not an enemy as I so mistakenly believed, but I barely know him—aside from the deep intimacy I have with his scowls and his bossy commands.
I don’t want Stark to be secretly pining after me. I don’t even like him. He’s kind of a fucking asshole.
On the other hand, it would help certain moments between us make sense if he were.
Like the naked hunger I’ve seen in his eyes when he’s licked my tattoos, or the searing heat I felt between us this afternoon in his office when he held my hand to his chest.
Heat that now pools liquid in my belly at the mere thought of his touch.
Anassa huffs, her pungent wolf breath hitting my face. “I would not dare to pry about Stark and Cratos’s relationship. The bond between a direwolf and their rider is private, even for mated pairs. If you want to know the answer to that, you may ask Stark yourself.”
Yeah, that would go over well, I’m sure.
Hey Stark, just out of curiosity, do you have a deep, unending, overwhelming attraction toward me at all times? Are you so hot for me that you can barely function?
Might explain why he primarily speaks in grunts, though.
“How does it work on a technical level?” I ask, ignoring the heat in my own face. “Are Stark and I able to communicate mentally?”
Anassa gives a lupine nod. “Yes, you can reach Stark, and he can reach you. You may connect mentally to each other however you wish.”
That might be handy, I suppose. If I need immediate advice on the best way to disembowel someone.
“And what about talking to each other’s wolves, since you’re mated? Can you reach Stark? Can I reach Cratos?”
Anassa’s lips pull back from her fangs—she’s displeased. “Technically, yes, but I would not! As I said, the rider-and-wolf bond is sacred. To speak directly to another wolf’s Bonded rider… that’s a violation. Alpha wolves may reach out to their pack’s riders but only if absolutely necessary.”
My brows furrow. “You reached out to Helene and Grigore, though, when we needed to show them I was the rightful ruler.”