Chapter 20 A House for Two, A Storm Within
A HOUSE FOR TWO, A STORM WITHIN
“To scent her is a right, not a reward. But to have her, you must first be the male who would burn for her and never touch.”
—Elder A?na
Theron
“Ibrought you some broth with meat. You’ve only been eating fruits and berries for a little while,” I say as I step into our home.
The word home feels right now, especially with her in it.
The space is grand, befitting her status.
Although I didn’t know I’d be the mate of the leader, I knew my mate would have the fanciest home.
The walls are constructed from broad branches and leaves, sturdy and alive, as all things in the world should be.
Cozy mats cover the floors, woven for my mate’s comfort, and the room is lit with clusters of glowing flowers and large crystals embedded in the walls, their facets reflecting colors that dance across the room and their soft brilliance creating warmth I hope makes her feel welcomed.
I worked hard to grow this place, with her in mind even before I met her face-to-face. Seeing her here, sitting within these walls, was once just a dream. But now, she’s here, real and within reach. She fits like she belongs. I wonder what she thinks of it all—of ávera, of her new home.
“Thank you,” she says, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the bowl. One of the many bowls I carved, a skill I honed for her. The first few were uneven, far from perfect. I imagine she’s used to finer things made by human hands.
“I didn’t know you cook,” she says, her eyes following me. “Considering you’re . . . well, some type of wolf, don’t you eat the meat raw?”
“We do,” I say, placing the bowl in front of her, the aroma of herbs and meat wafting between us. “But we’ve learned human ways, preparing for your arrival, knowing one day you’d come to ávera.”
Her eyes widen.
“All the homes you saw earlier,” I continue, “they’re built for your comfort. Our males have been growing them for ages.”
She pauses, glancing around the room, then leaning forward. “Growing them? How do you grow houses?”
“Energy transfer,” I say with pride. “The better a vólkin masters this skill, the more he can connect with nature—bend it, shape it, and make it grow. Those who have mastered it,” I add, a grin spreading on my mouth, “can grow anything. Flowers, vines, even homes like this from the very bark of trees.”
Her eyes travel across the walls and over the curves where branches and leaves blend into the structure.
“But not every vólkin can do this,” I say, watching her closely as my chest puffs.
“This is incredible,” she whispers.
Vines, heavy with blossoms, drape from the ceiling like a canopy, filling the air with their sweet scent. The furniture, made from the strongest, healthiest wood I could find, is adorned with luxurious cushions and silky furs from my hunts. It invites her to relax.
With me.
A stream flows along one side of the room, its clear water shimmering with tiny luminescent stones like scattered stars at the bottom, and small orbs float above, pulsing like fireflies.
Every piece, every detail, has been chosen and shaped for her, to be a place worthy of her. My mate will always have the best of everything.
“I’m glad you like it,” I say, keeping my voice steady.
I should try to stay composed. “If there’s anything else you need, anything I might’ve missed, let me know.
I’ve done what I could, but our knowledge of human ways is limited, given that we’ve been isolated behind the barrier for over four centuries. ”
She glances at me. “You’ve adapted so much . . . All this, just in preparation?”
I nod, feeling those long years, the waiting, the learning. “We always knew the day would come that our lives would be shared with our mates.” I sit beside her, close enough to catch the warmth from her body. “So, we’ve studied your customs, your needs, and prepared ourselves.”
Noel takes a spoonful of the broth, and her face softens as the warmth spreads through her. “This is delicious,” she murmurs. “You’ve all gone to so much trouble for me.”
“You are worth every effort.”
While she eats, I step outside to check on my warriors. Two of them stand guard, one on either side of the porch, while a few others patrol the surrounding area. With the barrier gone, we must be ready for anything.
“How lucky can one be?” Zephyr says, nodding toward the house.
Kael leans in. “Human females are so tiny. Are they supposed to be like that?” His eyes are wide, genuinely perplexed.
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Yes, they’re small, but don’t let their size fool you. Their strength lies in their spirit.”
Kael’s expression shifts, and he lowers his voice. “Do you think the other humans will accept us too? I can’t wait to meet my mate. I’m both happy and jealous!” He sways his hips from side to side, wrapping his arms around himself as if already embracing his mate.
Zephyr sighs and places a paw on his forehead. “Kael, control yourself.”
I smirk. “You were so serious when you explained ávera to my mate earlier, I almost didn’t recognize you.”
Kael rolls his eyes. “Just because I can be serious when it counts doesn’t mean I’m not allowed a little excitement.”
Every vólkin longs for the day they’ll meet their mate, and I understand their impatience well. We’ve spent centuries preparing, trying to understand human customs, hoping we’d be ready to welcome our mates and honor them.
I gesture to Kael and Zephyr to follow me, and together, we walk into the heart of ávera.
The night is still, yet the air feels charged, alive with the energy of our people.
Vólkins are gathered across the land, unable to sleep, drawn by the promise of change.
As we pass, they bow, and I feel the awe in their gazes.
They feel it as I do—the shift in our world, the beginning of something new.
I acknowledge each vólkin, exchanging greetings. Some aren’t warriors, only residents of ávera who now share in this anticipation.
One elder walks up to me. “Balance is close, Theron. May the goddesses bless us with strong cubs and harmony.” His words echo others I’ve heard throughout the night, a longing for unity and restoration.
Another, a younger vólkin with bright eyes, murmurs as we pass, “You’ve brought our leader home, Theron. May her presence heal the land.”
I nod in response. Their hopes are on my shoulders, and I will bear them all.
We approach the council room where two guards stand at attention by the entrance. They bow low as I come close, paws pressed to their hearts, and then step aside to allow us through. I meet their eyes before crossing the threshold with Kael and Zephyr at my sides.
Inside, my warriors stand tall, their postures straight, attention fixed on me. These are the warriors who stood with me on our last patrol, each of them prepared and loyal, ready to face the unknown at my command. These are the finest of ávera.
“Brothers,” I begin as I move toward the council table, “today marks the start of a new era for ávera. The arrival of our leader—of Her Majesty—and the fall of the barrier have set events in motion. Everything will change.”
I see a spark in their eyes, pride, eagerness, hunger. These warriors have prepared for years, just as I have, for this exact moment.
“The outside world is open to us now, and with it come new challenges. We must be cautious. The humans may not yet know the barrier is gone, but it won’t stay that way.
We stand as ávera’s shield, its protectors, and we will ensure our territory remains secure,” I say, narrowing my gaze. “I hope I’m being clear.”
The warriors straighten further, each one pressing a paw firmly to their heart.
“Reports from the borders,” I command.
Zephyr speaks first. “We found remnants of a campfire near the edge of the barrier. The embers were still warm when we arrived, suggesting it was abandoned not long before. Around it, blackened stones were arranged in strange patterns . . . ritualistic, maybe.”
Rituals, so close to our borders—not a good sign.
Another warrior speaks, his brow furrowed. “We found footprints, Theron, clearly human, leading in and out from the area. But there were no signs of a struggle. Whoever they were, they were careful.”
I meet his gaze, clenching my jaw. “Yet not careful enough to cover their tracks.”
Kael steps forward, his earlier lightheartedness gone. “There’s more, Theron. We picked up the scent of dried blood nearby. Strong enough to linger, but no sign of a body. No trails to follow either.”
A low growl rumbles from the assembled warriors. They share in my unease. The scent of blood with no clear source could only mean one thing: magic. And dark intentions.
Or?on crosses his arms. “I think it was human blood.”
Zephyr nods. “The air felt strange. Even the forest around the campsite felt . . . different, like it had resisted whatever ritual was practiced there.”
“For so long, we’ve known only the stories from our elders about the lands beyond the barrier. But now, with these strange scents, these ritualistic markings . . . It’s clear that whoever came here had a purpose.”
The warriors exchange uneasy glances, some shuffle on their paws, some lean on the table.
“We’ll have to investigate further,” I continue. “I want to understand what we’re dealing with before it encroaches on ávera. Elder A?na has a greater understanding of the world outside our lands. I’ll go with her to the site and uncover what I can.”
I pause. The new moon marks new beginnings, the time to honor our leader’s arrival with the welcome ceremony. It’s vital, especially with my mate’s doubts, that everything goes perfectly. Any delay could threaten the order until the bonding ritual.
I take a breath. “No, I’ve changed my mind. Three will accompany Elder A?na to the border. ívar, Yoren . . .” I pause, assessing the warriors before me. “And Nér, you’ll lead the patrol. Report every detail back to me by dawn.”
The three nod in unison.