Twelve
T WELVE
ESTRELLA
“How is that possible?” I asked, staring down the Morrigan where they studied me. None of them said a word, seeming frozen. They didn’t know what I knew, didn’t know what Fenrir might have revealed and wouldn’t risk giving me information I did not already possess. They couldn’t hear the whisper of Fenrir’s voice in their minds the way I could, I realized, leaving me to wonder exactly how he could speak to me now but hadn’t chosen to do so before.
“You keep your mind closed to all but your mate, but your walls are weakened without your magic and I am stronger in the place I call home.”
I jolted all over again, certain I would never get over the press of his mind upon mine. The way the words were growled felt like a comforting caress. It felt like…
“Being petted.”
This was fucking ridiculous. “Stop that!” I snapped, raising my hands from the fur on the back of his neck. It made it so that I didn’t have hold, but even in my panic I trusted Fenrir enough to know he wouldn’t risk me falling.
He huffed, expelling the breath from his lungs in something that felt distinctly like a sigh. I snapped my mouth closed, squeezing my eyes shut as I drew in a few deep, steadying breaths. If my mental walls were weakened without my magic, then that meant that the silence I felt from Caldris was truly a result of Tartarus itself. A blockage meant to keep me isolated, no doubt, and one that I wanted to break through as soon as I could find a way.
“ You cannot hear him because Tartarus’s wards silence all magic other than its own, even the mate bond. You and I are both part of this place. ” Fenrir confirmed the path of my thoughts, offering a little reassurance as I tried to understand what the Hel was happening in my own head.
“How is it possible that Khaos would be my father?” I asked the Morrigan, feeling the press of each of their stares on mine. Nemain was the one who parted her lips first, her glare settling on the wolf who’d spilled the secret they weren’t meant to share.
“ Oops. ” Fenrir tilted his head to the side, fidgeting on his front legs in a move that made his chest rise in something like a shrug.
“He bound us to secrecy, but not you?” she asked, her glare deepening as Fenrir raised his head high in pride. I had the distinct feeling that no one and nothing could bind him, the stubborn ass.
He growled, his body rumbling beneath me. “ Heard that. ”
“How?” I repeated, ignoring the fact that now that he was in my mind, I couldn’t seem to shove him out. I wasn’t strong enough to shield my mind from his intrusion any longer, leaving him to run rampant through my private thoughts.
My hands trembled as they touched his fur, realization settling over me. The wards had stripped away my magic, rendering me effectively human against an immortal creature and harbinger of death. He could slide into my mind and communicate with me because I was suddenly completely defenseless for the first time since the Veil fell. I was used to my body being vulnerable, but my mind had always been my safe space.
I’d known what it was to be human once, when the only beings around me were human or at the very least lacked all magic. Now I was surrounded by it, and the disadvantage it put me at felt all too familiar.
I turned to Fenrir, asking the question while I waited for the Morrigan to give me their vague attempt at an answer that would only leave me with more questions. Maybe now I would at least have Fenrir to fill in the gaps of information I did not possess. “ Why didn’t you speak to me earlier then? Why wait until now? ” I asked, letting my thoughts run rampant.
“ You’ve been a bit busy…” Fenrir trailed off, his deep growl laced with humor and sarcasm and things that a wolf shouldn’t be able to convey. It was so Godsdamn disorienting. “ I didn’t intend to tell you at all until after you’ve won, but watching the three dance around answers irritates me greatly. I’d eat them if it wasn’t frowned upon. ”
“Your father,” Nemain said vaguely, as if she couldn’t quite force herself to say his name. Even with me acknowledging the truth, the binding he’d placed to protect his secret held steadfast. “He has several children. It is not uncommon for a Primordial to procreate. They are not bound by the same curse the witches placed upon their offspring, because they are nature itself and cannot be contained.”
His other children.
Rheaghan. My now dead brother .
Mab. My cunt of a sister.
I was going to be sick.
I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth, trying to quell the surging nausea that came with the realization that I was related to my greatest enemy. The woman who had violated my mate through the actions of others was my flesh and blood.
The woman who I would need to kill to find happiness was the only biological family I had left. Whoever had pissed them off, the Fates were cruel, unrelenting tormentors. They didn’t care for kindness.
“Mab…” I trailed off.
“Is the daughter of Hemera. You are not,” Badb said, avoiding directly calling Mab my half-sister. “Your mother is not a Primordial at all.”
The distance of my maternal blood did little to ease the pain of longing for what might have been had Rheaghan not died before we ever knew the truth. He might have chosen to stand by me as the sister he’d never known he had. If he only fought for me half as hard as he fought for Mab even after she’d proven to be long past redemption, I’d have had a protective half-brother to deal with.
“Then I’m a Goddess? Like Mab and Rheaghan, or something in between God and Fae?” I asked, truly not understanding my place. There were gifts I possessed that Mab claimed were only available to the Primordials, things that I couldn’t deny seemed to set me apart from the Gods I’d watched fighting on the sands outside Tar Mesa.
The threads.
“You are more than a Goddess…” Macha said as evasively as she could. Her voice trailed off lightly at the end, and I could tell it pained her to not be able to speak the words that lingered on her tongue. “Your father gave something to you to set you apart from his other offspring.”
“What does that even mean?” I asked, feeling the press of Lupa against my thigh as she rubbed her body along the length of my leg to comfort me.
“It means he is you, and you are him.”
I didn’t want to be that close to anyone, let alone my biological father that I did not know. It made me uncomfortable, at best.
“The magic you possess is his gift to you. A piece of himself that he has not given to any other,” Nemain said quickly, spitting out the words before the binding could stop her. She gasped, raising her hand to clutch her throat as the magic sealed itself around it. It appeared in golden threads, tightening like a noose as she fought for breath.
They wrapped around her throat twice as I flung myself from Fenrir’s back, striding to her on steady feet as she dropped to her knees. Badb and Macha stared on helplessly, and I realized that they knew what was happening, even if they likely couldn’t see it. Badb’s hand twitched at her side, as if involuntarily because she wanted to interfere, but could do nothing to stop what was happening to her sister.
“Don’t,” Macha warned when I reached out to grasp the threads. “You gave your magic to Tartarus. It isn’t there, and you cannot help her until you have it back.”
The threads sank into Nemain’s skin as Macha grabbed my hand, pulling me back and keeping me from attempting to interfere. The skin beneath Nemain’s eyes became dotted with red as her blood vessels burst, her mouth opening wide even though she could not inhale any air. Blood welled from the wounds the threads made on her throat, trailing down her neck as the shimmering faded into her.
She drew in a deep, sudden breath finally as they vanished completely. Her stare remained fixed on the ground as she closed her mouth, a tiny whimper escaping as she pushed to her feet. To see one of the three parts of the Morrigan so vulnerable made something inside me clench with fury.
Such a foolish game the Primordials played for something as mundane as secrets. What kind of person was my father if this was the kind of punishment he gave out over such a minor infraction?
“Nemain?” I asked, wincing when she turned her stare to me. Her eyes seemed to bleed, the whites tinted with pink from her struggle. She nodded silently, touching the front of her throat as she opened her mouth. Her lips moved as if she was speaking, but there was no sound as she grasped the wounds that had taken something from her.
Taken her voice, I realized.
“Why are you giving me answers? Why are you risking punishment like this to help me?” I asked, turning to Badb with the question Nemain couldn’t answer for herself.
She paused, hesitating for a moment before sighing. “Knowledge is power and not all here would see you stumble in the dark,” she said, turning to Macha.
The two exchanged a careful look, before Macha decided to elaborate. “Everyone has their own motives, and you would be a fool to forget that. Everyone will use you to their own advantage, especially here. You are the tides, constantly shifting. We would all guide you in a direction that serves us. We were merely the ones fortunate enough to be tasked with it.”
Badb continued, her face twisting into a smirk. “In helping you, we help ourselves and our own destinies, Child of Fate,” she said. The harsh reminder settled into my gut, stern and stark. There were no friends here, only allies who would turn the moment it benefited them.
“We need to keep moving,” I said, striding forward to continue on the path we’d set to find our way to the first river. I would not lose more time to wallowing in the suffering of another, not when I was merely a tool for them. The Morrigan followed at my heels as Fenrir nudged my back, lowering himself so that I could climb on. With everything I’d thought I’d known torn to shreds, I swung my leg over his back and allowed him to carry me—for just a little while.
If that was what happened for daring to speak, I shuddered to think of what Khaos would require of me to prove myself. Without magic, was I even worth anything at all?
Fenrir remained silent as we walked, leaving me to my thoughts. I could feel the distinct presence in my mind, as if he was too uncer tain about my mental state to truly leave me be. I couldn’t shake the memory of Nemain’s throat closing, often finding myself touching my own as if he would punish me for the same if I spoke ill of him.
I hadn’t gotten the impression of cruelty on the few occasions I’d met with him in the Void, and I couldn’t seem to reconcile the heartless male who was capable of such things with the one who had come to my rescue when I’d taken too much magic.
From him.
I didn’t dare to ask about my mother out of fear that a similar fate awaited Badb and Macha if they so much as uttered a word. As difficult as they might have been at times, and as distant and otherworldly as they seemed, I couldn’t help but enjoy their company in spite of their assertions that I was a tool.
In truth, their and the Cwn Annwn’s presence was the only thing keeping me sane. When my entire world was crumbling at my feet and I couldn’t turn to my mate, they kept me feeling grounded in what I needed to do.
They made me believe that maybe, just maybe, I could accomplish what I’d set out to do. Even if they’d warned me I didn’t stand a chance of surviving all that they’d said would come to pass, I could leave the world a better place without me in it. I could give Imelda and Fallon a chance at finding peace.
Fenrir was silent in my mind, not relaying the information to the question I knew he could hear about my mother. I didn’t know if it was the fact that he didn’t want to answer or something else, but I didn’t dare to pry.
“ It is an answer you already know deep down. It will come to you when you’re ready for it ,” he said, earning a growl from me that felt particularly canine.
Lupa and Ylfa raced ahead, zooming through the flames without a care in the world. Fenrir moved slightly slower, but he still ran fast enough that I needed to hold on for all that I was worth as the Morrigan flew through the skies overhead. They’d disappear and then reappear when I least expected it, darting low to zoom past us in a flash of raven wings. Their feathers gleamed in the firelight, a distinctive golden sparkle showing in their amber eyes.
We made good time traveling this way, and I hated that I hadn’t thought to try it earlier. It gave my feet a reprieve, even if my ass and thighs tired from the effort of holding myself on my seat as Fenrir moved.
I would need to rest soon, and I didn’t think it would be an issue as some of the flames began to flicker the way they had the night before. It signaled the coming of the night, and I imagined we would need to find a place for me to hide so that the Cwn Annwn could hunt.
I hadn’t eaten, and yet my stomach didn’t harass me with the familiar grumbling of hunger yet. Before coming to Alfheimr, I might have gone longer than this without food and never thought anything of it. But I’d been spoiled with feasts even while being tormented at Mab’s hand, and my body was no longer used to going so long.
“Time moves differently here. To your body, it has only been mere hours. A night, really.”
I will need to eat soon , I thought, thinking of the way I would send emotions down the bond to reach Caldris. This felt similar, a different part of me that was connected to Fenrir. It was more complete, as if there was no part of me that was separate from him.
“Your mate bond will be similar once you complete it.”
But Fenrir and I hadn’t needed to complete anything.
“There is nothing to complete. I come from Khaos, and you are the Princess of it. Our bond just is. ”
Just was. I supposed I should have been grateful that the completion of the mate bond required my consent, because even though I didn’t fault Fenrir, this somehow felt like a violation.
Which was stupid, when I wouldn’t have turned him away. I just wanted to have the choice , in the way it felt like Caldris had done what he could, in his own twisted way, to give me as much choice as possible in something that was inevitable. It had been those I was not bound to in any way who had stripped my choice from me.
He growled, but the sound was low and calm. It didn’t feel like a threat or voicing displeasure at all. It was the closest thing I thought a wolf could come to the way a cat purred, intended to soothe rather than scare. I pressed my body tighter to his back, leaning forward to lay myself along his spine as my arms wrapped around his neck more firmly. He picked up speed the moment I got a good grip, joining his sisters in the fray as they sped through ruins and rock and fire.
We sped through the fading light of the fires, Fenrir promising to find me something to eat that night. There would be an abundance of fire in the morning to cook a quick breakfast, appeasing the needs of my stomach before they could grow too distracting. I’d need my strength for the trials coming soon enough. The Morrigan swooped through the air to signal the time for safety.
“Wait!” I called to Fenrir, pushing up from his upper body frantically as the last light cast a shadow upon a perfectly rounded stone. A male form fought to push it up the only hill in the area, and he was so close to the top I bet more than anything he could practically taste the victory of it. He slipped in the dirt just before cresting the top, the stone rolling back over him and dragging him by the chains wrapped around the stone, pulling him behind it with his arms wrenched at a horrible-looking angle.
He and the stone fell into the valley beneath the hill as we watched, Fenrir slowing to a stop. His paws dug into the dirt, refusing to move any closer but respecting my wish to not move past without offering aid.
I climbed off Fenrir’s back, dropping to the ground less than gracefully and starting my path toward the man as he slowly pushed to his feet. I moved closer even though I knew I needed to find shelter—an irrational tug pulling me forward. I needed to know, needed to see the person before me.
His arms snapped, the bones cracking as they righted themselves under invisible, magical hands. He approached the stone, positioned himself below it, and began to push it up the hill all over again before he dropped to his knees with exhaustion.
He slumped forward, pressing his forehead to the stone as I approached. I knew that bone-tired exhaustion, had felt it every day after harvesting in the gardens and knowing I had a night at the manor still awaiting me. The man turned his head toward me as my boot crunched in the dried, burnt grass surrounding his valley. Everything in this area was dead, unlike the lushness of the area surrounding Phlegyas and his feast. Blond hair barely showed in the darkness, light golden skin on a form taller than any human I’d known before. His warm brown eyes widened with shock as he stared at me, our gazes connecting for a single, brief moment before everything plunged into total darkness.
“Brann?”