Chapter 26 The Feast of Roses and Fire
THE FEAST OF ROSES AND FIRE
“Before the first fire, before the first word, there was the dance. Only those born of womb and storm can summon it. For when women move, the earth listens. And when they move as one, the balance shifts.”
—Láda Velé?a, Goddess of Leadership and War
Theron
We head to the stream near ávera’s edge, and I plunge into its depths, letting the cold water cut through the remnants of the day’s hunt, washing away the blood and dirt.
The current is strong and refreshing, pulling the weight of the day off my fur.
Beside me, Kael and Zephyr do the same. The hunt was a success.
We brought back enough game to feed everyone.
This is a feast for my mate.
The others carry the animals to be prepared. As I sink farther into the water, I wonder what she’s been doing, how she’s adjusting to this world.
Mina has been with her. She’s gentle and patient, everything Noel needs right now. But even with that assurance, I find myself restless. My little dove.
I miss her.
She was so beautiful in the water, letting me touch her, trusting me to care for her. The memory burns fresh in my mind, waking my cock again. I glance to my side, half hoping to see her, but find Kael grinning back at me instead. Shaking my head, I sigh deeply.
“Something on your mind, Theron?” he asks.
“Plenty,” I mutter before I step out of the water.
Once clean and dry, we make our way to the main clearing where the preparations for the feast are in full swing.
Vólkins move through the area as they string garlands, arrange tables, and light lanterns.
The scent of freshly prepared food mingles with the sweet aroma of flowers, filling the air with a warmth that feels like home.
The garlands are made from glowing blossoms and floating energy orbs.
They light as evening creeps in, painting ávera in an array of colors.
Everything looks perfect for the leader. For Noel.
The tables are laid with an array of meats, some cooked and seasoned for her.
While we vólkins favor raw meat, we’ve learned to prepare it in ways humans find pleasing.
It was one of the many lessons Elder A?na insisted upon, and we were eager to ensure our mates would feel welcomed when they arrived.
Alongside the meat, there are fruits and berries, including the strawberries Noel seemed to enjoy so much.
I hope she’ll find the feast to her liking.
I approach Elder A?na near the center of the clearing, her presence commanding as always. “Elder A?na,” I greet her with a nod. “The preparations look excellent. Where is my mate?”
“She’s with Mina and the others,” she replies. “They’ve been taking good care of her.”
I’m about to respond when a familiar, sweet scent hits my snout. My head snaps toward its source. Noel?
And then I see them.
A circle of blue roses, fully grown and vibrant, their petals glowing in the diffuse light of the setting sun. I freeze, my chest tightening with awe. I didn’t grow those. “Did she . . . ?”
A smile graces Elder A?na’s features. “She made them appear. A very good omen.”
My heart swells with pride. Noel’s connection to this land, to ávera, is stronger than I could have imagined. “She is remarkable,”
“She is,” Elder A?na agrees, her gaze soft as she looks at the flowers. “And so is the path she’s meant to walk.”
I run my claws over the fur between my ears, smoothing it back so every strand is in place. Then I pull just a few forward. I saw the growlings style their hair this way. “How do I look?”
Elder A?na smirks. “Handsome.”
I grin as I trace my claws one final time over my fur. If this is how my mate will see me tonight, I want to make sure I’m everything she could want.
The vólkins begin to gather. Pups race each other to the clearing, eager to find the best spot to watch. We stand at the front, all eyes on Elder A?na as she steps forward to address the crowd. Her presence commands attention, and the lively chatter quiets as she raises her paw.
“Tonight,” she begins, her voice strong and clear, “we welcome Her Majesty, Noel—the chosen leader who has come to guide us. Her presence marks the beginning of a new era for us all. The era where the balance will return.”
The vólkins erupt in cheers and howls, their voices echoing through the trees of ávera. My ears perk, and my focus shifts to my right as Noel walks toward us. She’s flanked by Mina, Na?a, and Essin, her presence lit by the glow of the garlands.
She takes my breath away.
The gown fits her perfectly. Every stitch and detail matches her beauty. My chest tightens, and a familiar ache rises in my throat. I swallow hard, feeling my cock drawing out. She will drive me to madness before the bonding ritual.
As she approaches, the crowd bows low in a show of loyalty and submission. But all I can see—all I want to see—is her. Our eyes meet, and the rest of the world blurs into nothingness. The cheering fades, the glowing orbs dim, and even the pups’ laughter is distant.
There is only her. My little dove.
I stride forward through the gathered vólkins. My mind blanks. All I know is that I need her in my arms.
Before I realize it, she’s there, close enough to hold. My heart pounds wildly in my chest, and every hair on my body stands on end.
Her eyes widen as she looks up at me. “Theron?”
“Noel,” I murmur her name, standing so close to her.
Mine.
Tonight, there is no balance, no prophecy.
There is only a little dove in front of me.
A dove with a beautiful gown, a dove with colorful flowers in her hair.
I look down at my cock, and so does she.
The veins are going to pop soon if I don’t do something about it.
My gaze narrows, locking onto her as her pale face flushes red.
There it is. That beautiful blush of hers. She lifts her eyes and pushes me away.
“You are the most beautiful and tempting creature I have ever witnessed,” I whisper. The red deepens on her cheeks, spreading to her neck, and by the goddesses, every part of me wants to claim her here and now. Ceremonies be damned.
“Everyone is looking,” she says quietly.
Her words bring me back to reality. And another low growl rumbles in my chest as I glance around. Right. The crowd.
I tilt my head back and take a deep breath, the cool air doing little to calm the heat in me. What are you doing, Theron?
This moment is for her, and it’s too important to let my beast take over. Turning to the gathered vólkins, I catch Elder A?na and Kael grinning at me, clearly enjoying my slip in composure. The rest of the crowd stands in respectful silence, their attention fixed on us.
I clear my throat, then raise my voice. “The feast shall begin!”
The clearing fills with cheers as I stride to the main table, catching my mate’s hand as I walk. Carefully, I lead Noel to her seat, brushing my claws over her hand once more before stepping to my own seat beside her. She looks up at me, her eyes wide and still shining with warmth.
Some vólkins settle into their places as others begin bringing out more of the game we hunted, the rich aroma of meat and berries filling the air.
Vólkins approach one by one to pay their respects, each offering blessings to the leader such as, “We welcome the ethereal leader” and “May the goddesses bless our leader.”
My patience is wearing thin. All I want is to pull her onto my lap, to feel her weight on my thigh where she belongs. She’d fit perfectly there, greeting everyone from her rightful place. On me.
Clenching my jaw, I turn my focus to the task at paw and arrange cooked meat for Noel in the bowl Mina prepared, one I carved myself.
“Do you want fruit with the meat or after?” I ask.
Noel turns to me, her attention shifting away from yet another well-meaning blessing from my people. Her brows knit as she replies, “Theron, I can get my food myself.”
“I’m already doing it,” I say, barely holding back a grin.
Her eyes narrow, and she sighs. “After.”
Did she just huff? My Noel, huffing like a vólkin? The urge to tease her is irresistible.
“Should I press more to hear a growl?” I bare my fangs as I ask, setting the bowl before her.
She fixes me with a sharp look. “You owe me many explanations for someone who just stormed out of the house,” she counters, before adding, “Thank you.”
So polite. Polite and feisty. A combination that has me taking more calming breaths than ever.
Before I can respond, Váar approaches, his young pup cradled in his arms. “Your Majesty,” he begins, “would you bless my child?”
I glance at Noel, watching the change in her expression as she takes in the sight of the pup.
Her gaze softens instantly, her hand reaching out to hold the youngling’s small paw in her own.
The gentleness in her touch, the kindness in her eyes— I feel a lump form in my throat.
Is this how she’ll look at our own cubs one day? Is this what our future holds?
Goddesses above.
Noel speaks, her voice warm and sweet. “May you grow strong and wise, and may the goddesses watch over you always.”
Váar’s expression mirrors my own, full of a profound, unspoken gratitude. He nods, his eyes brimming with emotion as he steps back with his pup held close.
My mate, my Noel, has just blessed the next generation of warriors. The vólkins who will one day carry our traditions, raise their own young in a world that we will restore to balance.
Noel hums as she takes a bite of the cooked meat. The sight fills me with pride, seeing her enjoy the results of my hunt is a satisfaction like no other. My mate, eating what I’ve provided, feels as natural and right as the rising sun.
I watch her quietly as I put a slice of raw meat into my mouth. After her spiritual awakening, I’ll take her with me on a hunt. She’ll see me in action, witness what I’m capable of firstpaw. She’ll know that I can provide, protect, and that I’m hers, as she is mine.
But first, the bonding ritual.
That sacred rite will tie our souls together completely. Noel will finally awaken to her true self, to what human females are meant to be—strong, free, and connected to the land, to the very soil and sky.
“After the ceremony, we will talk,” she says, breaking through my thoughts. She takes the strawberry I offer her, her fingers brushing my claws.
“I need to go to the border first, my little dove,” I say. “As much as I want to be with you, I must protect ávera.”
“What’s at the border?”
How much should I burden her now? It’s only her second night here, and I’ve only just begun to see her smile more often. The thought of worrying her so soon feels wrong.
“Theron,” she presses.
I sigh. Her gaze pulls the truth from me. “My warriors and Elder A?na have seen unusual things near the border. Right where the barrier once stood.”
Her expression shifts, eagerness flashing in her eyes. As though it’s the most natural conclusion in the world, she says, “I’m coming with you.”
“I can’t let you put yourself in danger,” I counter, trying to reason with her. “You’ve had a long day, walking, meeting everyone, you must be tired.”
“And yet,” she says, “I’m still coming with you.”
“Noel,” I begin, my tone firmer now.
“This is final, Theron.”
A heavy sigh escapes me. How can I deny her when she speaks like this? Her fire, her refusal to yield, it’s my greatest weakness.
“Fine,” I concede. “But you will have to listen to me. Always.”
Her lips twitch into a small smile, and I realize there’s no winning against her. And truthfully, I don’t mind losing.
After the feast, a large fire roars to life in the center of the clearing, its flames crackling and stretching toward the darkened sky. The glow falls across the gathered vólkins and bathes the clearing in golden light.
The females form a circle around the fire, paws linked as they prepare to begin the ceremonial dance. Around them, the males take up drums, and the deep, rhythmic beats resonate through the ground and into my chest. Leaf spirits flit through the air, in and out of the crowd like threads of light.
The dance begins. The females move with grace, synchronized as though the fire calls to them. The flowers woven into their manes catch the light, their colors gleaming and shifting as they twirl. It’s more than a dance—it’s a prayer.
Noel’s eyes are wide and focused on the scene before her, completely captivated. Wonder written across her face as the leaf spirits circle closer to her.
“Why don’t you join them?” I ask as the spirits weave playfully through her hair, urging her forward.
She hesitates, then admits quietly, “I . . . I’ve never danced before.”
Never danced? My mate, who moves with the strength and elegance of a warrior, has never experienced this? It’s wrong, unnatural. “Humans don’t dance?” I ask.
“We do,” she replies. “But my mother never let me join.”
The faint smile on her lips doesn’t reach her eyes. My chest tightens at the thought of her being denied something so simple.
I glance at the leaf spirits and jerk my head toward Noel. They understand, and their glowing forms swirl around her. They tug at her hair and her gown, urging her toward the fire.
Noel looks back at me, unsure.
“Go. The circle will welcome you.”
Finally, she rises and allows the spirits to guide her. As she steps into the circle, her gown flows around her like water, catching the firelight.
The females welcome her with open arms, smiles and laughter on their faces as they pull her into their dance. Noel quickly finds her rhythm, and in that moment, she becomes part of the prayer, an offering to the goddesses.
If I could join her, I would. But this is a sacred dance, a tradition meant for the purest souls. Females. It is their connection to the goddesses, their devotion given form.
So for now, I’ll watch. I’ll hold this sight in my heart. My mate, radiant and free, moving because she belongs to the very spirit of ávera.
Perhaps it’s a good thing her mother never let her dance. Humans would’ve witnessed her power.