Chapter 24
Fern
When the key jiggled in the lock the next morning, Fern had barely moved from the bed, her eyes still focused out the window where the sky had lightened.
She didn’t think she’d fallen asleep, and yet she did not remember much after Darion had left the previous night.
When the door opened, her gaze drifted to it listlessly, and there was a strange, competing mix of disappointment and relief in her heart that it wasn’t him, but a Solvekh she’d seen maybe once or twice.
The woman carried a tray with a bowl of porridge and set it on a small table wordlessly, leaving as quickly as she had entered.
Her body was heavy, and after a few moments, she finally managed to sit up.
After a few more, she swung her legs over the side of the bed.
Then, with much greater effort, she stood, pausing when the rush of blood and hunger pangs made her lightheaded.
Finally she walked, slowly, falling into the chair and staring bleakly at her breakfast.
It was already cold.
She took a small bite, and then grimaced.
Unsweetened, as well.
She barely managed to swallow it, and then laughed to herself.
Even the Solvekh were allowed honey.
Fern endeavored to eat at least half of it, then quit after only a third was gone, and shuffled back to bed.
This time she did manage to fall asleep, for the next thing she knew someone was lightly shaking her shoulder. “Lady Fern?”
It was the same woman as before.
Fern waved at the tray with a tired hand. “You can take it. I’m finished.”
“I’m here to help you get ready for dinner.”
Dinner?
She looked out the window again, and it was dark.
Her mind swam through murky waters as she blinked, trying to make sense of it all. “How long have I been asleep?”
It felt like days.
The woman shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t been here since I dropped off your breakfast.”
She blinked again. “Who brought lunch?”
The woman looked nervous. “I… I didn’t see anything, and I wasn’t instructed to bring you anything either. Um… Alpha Darion’s been very busy at the temple with Lady Kyntha since the morning. I’m sure it was just an oversight.”
Her stomach couldn’t even muster a rumble in offense.
Her wolf did, though.
Our alpha has been disappointing.
I warned you he didn’t like us.
She snapped her jaws. He does! It’s the other she-wolf. She confuses him… We should kill her.
Fern snorted and got out of bed, her body shakier than it had been that morning. Yeah, I’d like to see us try.
Once she was standing, the Solvekh had her sit in front of her small mirror, and Fern nearly growled at her own reflection.
Her hair looked worse than before Reinn had washed it, while dark circles like bruises sat under her eyes and her cheeks had lost the fullness they’d had before she’d come here.
She looked much older than her twenty years.
The Solvekh knelt in front of the cedar chest and opened it, pausing for a moment, and then shut it again.
“Um… it appears you don’t have clothing.”
Fern turned around slowly, looking at the Solvekh’s worried expression.
And then down to her tunic, borrowed from Reinn.
Even the Ashpaw had a dress.
“I don’t think Alpha Darion will be pleased if I show up to dinner in this…” Fern mused, picking at the hem.
The Solvekh’s eyes widened, and she shook her head furiously. “No, most definitely not. I’ll address this with him at once.”
And then she sprang to her feet and out the door, still having time to lock it behind her.
Darion was too busy to remember to feed her, but available to speak with the staff about wardrobe troubles.
Actually, it made sense in a sad way, because showing up like this would be an obvious sign of his neglect in front of the clan. A skipped meal, though? Much more subtle.
She barked out a laugh, letting out a few more until finally they overtook her, making it difficult to breathe.
And too quickly they turned into tears, into sobs. Placing her arms on the table, she bent over to cradle her head between them, her whole body shaking from the effort. From her exhaustion.
And from the overwhelming hunger for more than just food.
It wasn’t long until the Solvekh returned, a gown in her hands.
“Here you are, my Lady. No need to fret. This will do for the evening.”
It was a dark russet color, something that would complement her complexion, muted as it was. When she took off the tunic to change, the woman held her hands out expectantly to take it from her, but Fern pulled it back to her chest.
“No, no, I’d… I’d like to keep this.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Really? A man’s tunic?”
Fern looked at it for a moment, Reinn’s scent still clinging to the threads. “Aye, if you don’t mind.”
She shrugged, and Fern tucked it under the covers of her bed before getting dressed.
The gown was big on her—a little too long and hanging loosely off her shoulders, but it was finely made of thick wool, with gold stitching along the seams.
And smelled faintly of Kyntha.
“Where did you get this?” Fern asked.
The Solvekh guided her to the chair in front of the mirror, where she proceeded to comb out her hair, pulling through tangles much rougher than Reinn had.
“Alpha Darion procured it for me, and I did not think to ask of its origin.”
Fern gave a small sigh. “Fair enough. What is your name?”
“Adela, my Lady.”
“Please,” Fern said, wincing when Adela yanked through a particularly stubborn knot. “Just call me Fern.”
Adela paused, thinking through her words, and then replied. “But you are a lady. A Lurvekh now, and a Naravekh to Alpha Darion.”
“And two days ago I was the Ashpaw. I know better than anybody how quickly your role in this clan can change, and I’d rather not get too comfortable in any of them.”
Fern looked at Adela in the mirror, the woman’s gaze down. “A lady only outside of this room, then. If I don’t use your title in front of the alphas, I may very well become the next Ashpaw myself.”
Fern watched her work as she began to braid a few strands of her hair. “So when were you made?”
“Many years ago,” Adela replied. Fern looked more closely at her face, at the fine lines around her mouth and the corner of her eyes that were just barely visible, and guessed she was perhaps fifteen years her elder.
“Bound by Alpha Norden. I served as a nursemaid for his infant son after the mother died in childbirth. Once he was weaned, I was sent here.”
Fern searched for a hint of sadness in the woman’s expression, found none, and asked the question anyway. “And what of your own child?”
Adela gave her a small smile. “Born sleeping, I’m afraid. I buried her on the full moon, needing it done, and he smelled the milk on me.”
There was a knock at the door, and she quickly finished the last braid. “That’ll be one of the alphas to escort you to dinner, then. Best not make him wait.”
Fern hopped out of her chair and saw too late that she didn’t have shoes. But the dress covered her feet anyway, so she didn’t think it was worth fussing about.
Karn waited outside the door, and her shoulders fell for just a moment. She’d hoped—foolishly—that it would be Darion. But he’d told her he would only escort Kyntha, hadn’t he?
Karn was still a nice consolation prize, though.
“My, my, don’t you look lovely this evening.”
Adela had done the best she could, but “lovely” was certainly overselling it. “Thank you, Alpha Karn.”
He held out his arm, and she took it as they walked down the hall.
“Head Alpha Alastair will formally introduce you to the clan tonight,” he said. “I’m sure everyone’s heard the news already, but it’s important to make things official. And to celebrate—it’s not every full moon a clan is blessed with an omega.”
Her wolf preened.
“How rare are omegas?” Fern asked. “Am I the only one here?”
“Aye. You might even be the only omega alive, unless some other clan is hiding one we haven’t heard about. I’ve only met two in my lifetime, but they were much older.” He patted her hand. “We are lucky to have found you.”
Fern tried to smile, but it took too much of her energy, and she abandoned the act and yawned instead. “I’m sorry, I’ve been sleeping such odd hours and still feel exhausted.”
“Your first shift must have been quite draining. So let’s hurry and finish this thing so you can get back to bed, hm?”
She couldn’t agree more, even knowing she’d most likely be going to bed alone. Which was a strange thing to be sad about, since she’d never shared her bed with a man before. But now that she’d shifted, the prospect of sleeping without a warm body next to her left her bereft.
It was also strange for Fern to enter the dining hall through the doorway that connected to the alpha’s private quarters. She’d done so a few times already, but never when the space was full of wolfkin.
And never to join the meal as a Lurvekh.
She spied Reinn immediately, his nearly silver hair standing out amongst a sea of dark blondes and chestnut browns. He lifted his goblet when he saw her and winked before taking a sip.
Eidan was missing, though. Her heart sank, and she feared her friendship with Eidan would never recover after she’d chosen Darion over him yesterday.
And she still didn’t understand why she had.
Alastair stood as they walked in, rounding the table to stand before it while he spoke.
“Wolfkin of the Sabletail Clan,” he started, his voice commanding and deep. Every mouth was silent, and every head was turned towards him, including Darion and Kyntha’s.
“The moon’s light reveals the truth in all of us, submitting our flesh to fur and fang and releasing the wolf that always dwells within us. Some of us were born with our beasts howling in our hearts, while others were gifted this power by the alphas before you. And sometimes…”
He turned towards Fern.
“The claim of an alpha can release a wolf that was merely locked inside, waiting for the right key.”
Fern wanted to shrink back into her awful nest, while her wolf stood tall.
“Tonight we are proud to welcome a new Lurvekh to our clan, one whose designation brings us honor. A blessing from Lurei herself.”