Chapter Twenty-One
Calista
By the time the sun bled out, the world had turned to slate and teeth.
The wind came downslope in hard, steady pushes that made the trees bow and the thin icing on the rocks shine like glass.
My ankle had held through the climb and the descent through the pines, thank the goddess.
But after the grueling trek, exhaustion had begun to set in.
“Stop pretending you’re not tired,” Everest murmured behind me. A hint of worry tinged his tone. Or maybe delirium was setting in.
“I’m keeping an eye out for traps,” I said through my teeth. “That’s why I’m moving slowly.”
“You’re doing both.” His gaze ran over the ridge ahead, then the cut of the valley. “I wish I could carry you, but the damned law...”
“I know.” Gods, I’d thought about it at least a dozen times. Not that I enjoyed the idea of admitting defeat to this male, but I didn’t think I’d be able to go much further without rest.
“We should stop for the night.”
The stupid rush of relief that hit me at his words should have made me furious. Instead, I only nodded, jaw tight.
“Only a little farther. There are some caves ahead...”
Gritting my teeth, I pushed forward. At least my guard knew the land and apparently all the good caves. My toes were numb, and the ache in my feet, legs, and all the way to the tips of my pointed ears was nearly unbearable.
Endless minutes later, he scanned the slope again and pointed to a notch in the rock. “There.”
It looked like a shadow shoved under the ridge.
Thank Selraya for his blessed Wolvryn sight.
He led the way into a crack between the enormous crag that opened into a shallow cave no wider than two bodies.
The floor held old leaves, but the stone kept off the wind at least. Everest took a quick turn about the mouth, then returned with an armful of dry needles and a handful of twigs no thicker than my finger.
“Tiny fire, just like last night. No smoke if we can help it.”
Crouching, he struck his blade to stone, and a bead of spark caught.
The little pile took. I folded down beside him and nearly cried at the joy of it.
Heat reached my hands for an instant and then the wind curled in and stole it.
I barely repressed the groan of frustration.
He fed the flame, starved it, then fed it again until we had enough warmth without announcing our location to the rest of the competitors.
Wherever they were…
I sat with my knees curled into my chest and my back to the wall. The cold got past everything. It slid into my bones, and I just couldn’t stop the tremor across my shoulders.
“Here…” Everest stripped off his cloak again. Night air hit the heat that clung to him and turned it to steam. He draped the cloak around my shoulders and lowered to sit at my side. His scent, warm and inviting, wrapped the small cave.
“What about you? You’ll freeze without it.”
“I run hot,” he replied, and then softer, eyes intent on mine. “Damn it, Calista, you’re shivering.”
“I am not.”
“You are.” He shifted closer until his thigh pressed along mine through fur and leather.
Warmth came like a tide and made my eyes sting.
If he noticed, he didn’t comment. Then he set his palms close to the fire before placing it over my calves.
The heat bled through the leathers and eased the ache I’d been pretending not to feel for hours.
“Goddess that feels good.” This time, I couldn’t suppress the groan that slipped free. Heat burned my cheeks at the sound. Oh, Selraya, save me.
Blazing orbs met mine, irises flaring against the brilliant azure. “At least I can be good for something.” There was a rough edge to his tone that hadn’t been there a moment ago. He leaned closer, his warmth pressing into me from all sides.
A low howl echoed outside, raising the hair at my nape. Everest leapt up, his hand moving to the axe slung across his back.
“Wolvryn?” I whispered, rising slowly with my hands already closing around my own weapons.
“No, something worse.” He paused. “The moans of the Starved.”
“Excuse me?” I all but squealed.
He relaxed a smidge, the tense set of his shoulders softening. “You’ve never heard the tales of the starved gods?”
A childhood memory surged to the surface.
My father speaking in hushed tones about the frost monsters in the north.
A bedtime tale to keep us children in line.
“No, only the six greater ones,” I finally murmured.
The six gods who were responsible for the four types of Fae that inhabited the continent of Crescentia.
Something like mirth flickered across those brilliant eyes. “Sit back and relax, little wolf. I will now tell you a story.”
He folded down onto the ground and waited until I did just as he said. Once I was as comfortable as one can be in a cave, he began.
“They say the aurora is not light at all, but Selraya’s torn veil, stitched across the north after the first Broken Oath.
Back when the world was young, there were small gods that lived between breaths, thin as frost and hungry as wolves.
They fed on worship, on warmth, and on the spilled shine of the greater gods powers, Raysa’s rais, Selraya’s elra, Elysira’s lys.
When Selraya turned her face away in grief at the first Fae’s betrayal, those little gods looked up and saw an open seam in the sky, and they climbed into it. ”
My father’s words came back to me, and I whispered, “like leeches into a wound.”
“Just so.” Everest nodded. “Now they drift inside the green fire, riding the ribbons of light. We call them the Starved, because they never learned fullness. Give them a spark, and they take a flame. Give them a drop of power, and they drink the whole river.
“If the aurora spills low enough to brush the ground, you do not watch it. You do not sing beneath it. You keep your mouth closed and your blood quiet, because the Starved can taste power on your tongue and energy in your veins. And when they feed, they don’t just take magic. They take choice.”
He paused eyes piercing, and I wondered if his thoughts had gone where mine had. Maybe it was a good thing the goddess had never doled any of her power on me. The starved gods would find nothing to feast on here.
“They sound like descendants of Avarnok, the god of eternal hunger.” The god of the Immortalis in Vesperis.
“Maybe they are.” He grinned. “But that’s why Frostcrag keeps the pylons lit on the ridges,” he continued. “And why the king’s guards know the grounding rites. Not to hold the light back, but to keep the hungry things trapped in the sky where they belong.”
A beat of silence passed, then the barest smile tilted up the corners of his lips.
“You don’t really believe that do you?” I asked.
He cocked his head to the side. “Maybe, maybe not. But I’d never be fool enough to be caught under the aurora unaware.” Then he held his hands over the fire and placed them over my hands, guiding them over the embers so the flames warmed my palms back to life.
Goddess, the warmth. It felt so good.
“Tell me something about your king,” I blurted, because talking was easier than thinking about how good his hands felt on mine. And his story had unsettled me, but I’d never admit that. “Something true,” I added.
“The Savage King despises cowards.” The answer came quickly, as if he had not needed to search for it. “And he can be cruel but only to those that deserve it. Particularly to those who prey on the weak.”
“That’s basically the same sentence twice,” I muttered.
A huff was the only response.
The fire popped, and I watched the glow outline his cheekbones.
He had put the mask aside, a dark shape against the stone.
The strong line of his jaw caught the light.
I traced the thin pale scar that cut across his brow and wondered how he’d gotten it.
Then the mouth I was trying not to think about pressed into a thoughtful line.
“Why hasn’t Savage taken the south if he hates the raiders so much?” I asked.
“Because what you hate is not always what you can hold. The southern bands have no center. You cut one line and three more knot. They feed on chaos.”
“And Thornwild,” I pressed. “I’ve heard whispers of dissent.” Aunt Mara was the source of all mainland gossip.
“Trystan, the Alpha,” he said, and for some reason, the name held weight.
“He tried to force order onto the southern coast, some say it was all in the hopes of proving himself worthy of a powerful betrothal. No one knows for certain why he did it. Regardless, he took twenty packs and a hundred boats with conquest in his eyes. The Nightreef Court smiled at his boldness and stepped aside, and the sands in the south bled. Thornwild still counts those dead when storm season comes. Trystan learned. He’s clever, and he does not make the same mistake twice. Much like our king.”
“It sounds like you respect the Thornwild Alpha.”
“I do. In the way you respect a cornered beast. Of the twelve, he is the only one besides the Savage King who could unite the south into something deadly. If he ever did, we would have another war on our hands.”
I pulled the cloak higher. My teeth clicked in spite of everything. It wasn’t fear. It was simply the bitter cold. In an attempt to distract myself, I gazed through the opening of the cavern. Slivers of moonlight crept in.
Everest followed my gaze, and something like excitement brightened his lively irises.
“The full moon is only a few nights out.” The exhilaration waned as he took me in.
“When it comes, the Wolvryn feel it first in their blood. Sleep thins and tempers shorten, especially among the males. Our strength comes easier and so does our hunger. On the night itself all Wolvryn will emerge whether they mean to or not, daughters, hunters, all of us.”
Icy fingertips crawled up my spine at his unspoken words. How would his Wolvryn react to me? Would I be safe around it?
“Are you familiar with the process?” he asked before I could voice my concern.
I nodded slowly. Though it had been ages since Ma’s Wolvryn had made an appearance. I’d been barely ten the last time. The few Wolvryn who could shift, typically left the Hollowcrest coast before the full moon to keep the rest of us safe.
“Alphas can change earlier,” he continued. “A few nights on either side of the full moon. Some can hold it back. Some cannot. They are faster and harder to stop during that window. They feel everything like it’s turned up. Smell. Sound. Want.”
“Why are the Alphas different?” Dorian was one of the few Hollowcrest who could actually summon their Wolvryn, and I’d never bothered to ask how elra effected him.
“The Wolvryn say Selraya’s power doesn’t fall only on the full moon itself. In the nights before and after, she casts what they call the Lunar Veil, a thinning of the boundary between the Fae form and the Wolvryn soul.”
His eyes glazed over, as if he’d traveled to another place and time.
“For most of the cursed, that veil only tears open on the single night when Sel and Raya’s faces align in perfect balance.
That moment unlocks the beast, forcing the change.
But for Alphas, the Lunar Veil loosens earlier and lingers longer.
Their souls burn brighter within the curse, resonating with Selraya’s elra. ”
I’d often wondered if the goddess had truly meant for it to be a curse… or was it in fact, as the southerners believed, a blessing? I supposed it didn’t really matter to me.
Everest’s story continued, deep with reverence.
“Wolvryn elders claim it’s because Alphas carry a greater portion of Selraya’s wildness, inherited through bloodlines forged during the earliest days of the curse.
Others insist the goddess allows Alphas this extended freedom as a reminder that leadership carries both privilege and burden.
With more power and responsibility comes more danger of losing control. ”
He shrugged then, his eyelids slipping closed for a moment. As an Alpha, Savage too would succumb to the thinning of the lunar veil.
My throat worked. The hunters would be at their worst in the coming days.
Everest watched the tiny flame gutter and return.
“The law still stands first and foremost. I’ll ensure everyone follows it, but you will see more teeth near moonrise.
So I urge you to keep space, and do not let any male corner you.
If you cannot break free, call for me. I will always be at your side. ”
“And what about you, my devoted guardian? Will you be able to control yourself?”
He smiled like I had just set a match to tinder.
“I am my Wolvryn’s master,” he purred, voice low.
“But I am not made of stone either, little wolf. The moon will pull at me same as the others. The difference is I know how to push back.” He leaned in, heat licking my skin.
“If I ever lose that fight, you will know it a breath before it happens. And I pray to Selraya that you will be nowhere near my mouth.”
A breathy gasp squeezed through my clenched teeth, and I suddenly wished he wasn’t sitting quite so close. All I could think about were his lips. I breathed out, forcing my tongue to loosen. “So tomorrow we avoid close quarters at dusk.”
“We avoid the others, and we pick high ground with two exits. We move at first light.”
My heart kicked at my ribs. “Right.”
Everest’s eyes flicked to my mouth. The tiny fire made the blue almost soft. “Now lie down.”