Chapter 30 The Hall of Hands and Paws #2
“No more? Already full?” he asks, tilting his giant head. Seriously, his head is at least four times the size of mine.
“More,” I say eagerly as I open my mouth again. Maybe I should gift him something, but what?
His massive muscles shift before my eyes and it’s distracting.
Every time he reaches for a strawberry, his arms flex, the cords of muscle standing out beneath his fur.
Is he doing this on purpose? The broad span of his shoulders, his thick neck, the way his mane frames his face.
All of it demands attention. His crystals glow beautifully.
ándor’s crystal is almost dull.
“You’re probably the biggest male I’ve ever seen,” I mutter, my gaze traveling from his well-defined abs upward. He straightens at my words, and I catch the slightest flicker of surprise in his eyes.
“You flatter me, my mate.” His deep voice is filled with pride. “Worry not. I will always protect you and will always be the strongest.” He leans in. “I am a leader for a reason.”
His words make my face flush with warmth, and I find myself suddenly unable to meet his intense gaze.
“Do you know why I fainted?” I ask, trying to shift the focus.
He nods, his expression darkening even as he places the last strawberry on my tongue.
“Your spirit was overwhelmed,” he explains, his voice full of .
. . regret. “You’ve endured more than your spirit could handle, and when you stepped into the circle, it tried to break free.
Your body couldn’t keep up.” There’s a raw pain in his eyes, as though he blames himself for what happened.
“It’s not your fault.” From the moment we met, Theron has been by my side—protecting me, feeding me, fighting for me.
I wish I could touch him, reassure him that he’s done everything right, but the weight of the furs makes it impossible to lift my hand to comfort him. “Why did my spirit try to break free?”
Theron sets the empty bowl aside, pulling me against him as he speaks. “A circle is a powerful shape,” he begins. “It represents the sun and the moon. The sun, like a male’s cycle, spans day and night. The moon, like a female’s cycle, moves through phases—new, full, and back again.”
I nod. He knows so much. I admire that.
“Is that why women bleed every month?” I ask.
He nods, his claws brushing over the fur on my head. “Yes. The moon symbolizes femininity. That’s why rituals involving female energy are always performed under a full moon. It’s the height of your spirituality.”
I hum in understanding, though his explanation only makes me realize how much humans don’t know. There’s so much hidden, so much I’ve never been taught.
In Tárnov, knowledge is a privilege strictly reserved for men.
Women are forbidden from seeking education or even displaying intelligence openly.
My mother defied this norm, teaching me in secret, away from prying eyes.
No one ever entered our home, she made sure of that.
If anyone had, they would have seen the shelves lined with books, filled with knowledge that could have condemned us both.
Whenever I spoke to men, I had to play the part of a fool.
Feigning ignorance when history came up, pretending I couldn’t grasp even the simplest of mathematical concepts or scientific ideas.
It was exhausting, suppressing my true self to fit into the fragile world they had constructed for themselves.
It’s absurd, really, this idea that a man’s worth is tied to a woman’s ignorance. As though they needed us to be stupid to validate their intelligence, to feel superior. How fragile their pride must be.
“Do you want to stretch your legs?” Theron asks, breaking through my thoughts.
He helps me out of the cocoon of furs before we make our way outside. Together, we carefully step around the overgrown roses that have claimed parts of our home. I hold onto Theron’s arm because my legs are so weak that it’s hard to walk, even slowly.
The garden of blue roses stretches wide, beautiful and alive. I sit down on the grass with the flowers surrounding me, their beauty fills me with warmth. They remind me of my mother—and of Theron too.
He joins me, and the nymphí, who were chatting among themselves in the roses, notice us and quickly rush over, giggling as they begin weaving tiny flowers into my hair.
“Why do my tears make flowers grow?” I ask a nymphá as I run my fingers over the soft petals of a blue rose.
“When the Mother of All wept on red roses, her sorrow turned them blue, Your Majesty,” she explains, her voice like a breeze.
“The Mother of All?” I echo. “I’ve heard her.” The words tumble out before I can stop them, but my eyes widen as the realization hits me. “I’ve heard her!”
Theron tilts his head. “You’ve heard of éva?”
“éva? The Mother of All is éva?” My throat is dry, my heartbeat loud in my ears. “The éva who ate the apple in the garden? The one who doomed humanity because of a snake?” My words spill out faster and faster.
Theron straightens, his broad shoulders stiff, and he exhales as he shakes his head in disbelief. “Is that what humans think?” he asks, almost to himself. “Unbelievable.”
His intense gaze meets mine and he says, “Noel, there’s a story every vólkin knows. It’s been passed down for generations—a tale of love, betrayal, and balance. It’s the story of éva and the Wolf.”
I lean in without thinking even as the nymphí weave more flowers into my hair. “I’m listening.”
“In the beginning, when the earth was new, countless spirits roamed the land, each searching for their purpose. The world was beautiful, brimming with potential, but it was wild and untamed. Among the spirits was one of great power and wisdom, a guardian of creation who watched over everything.
“The spirits wanted to see their world through new eyes, to give life to something that could experience it as they never could.
So they shaped a man from the earth and breathed life into him, calling him ádám.
He wandered the world in awe, but he was alone.
His heart grew heavy with loneliness, and he longed for a companion.
“Moved by his longing, the spirits created a woman, éva, who was graceful, strong, and full of life. For a time, it seemed like the two would build a bond that would shape humanity’s future.
But ádám’s heart faltered. He sought another, abandoning éva and leaving her with nothing but betrayal and grief.
“Devastated, éva fled to the heart of the forest. She found solace in nature, learned its ways and connected with the wild.
The trees, the rivers, and the creatures became her companions.
She spoke their language, sang their songs, and found a balance within herself that the world outside had denied her.
“One day, a terrible beast attacked her, threatening to end her life with its hunger and fury.
But just as it struck, a wolf emerged, strong and noble.
The wolf fought the beast with everything he had, driving it away and saving her life.
Wounded but victorious, the wolf lay at her feet, and éva cared for him, tending his wounds.
“Over time, they grew close. Their bond was built on trust and respect, and eventually, love.
When the spirits saw this union, they blessed it, granting them a child, the first vólkin.
This child was unlike any other, a being of both human and wolf, embodying the harmony between the natural world and humanity.
“For years, éva and the wolf raised their child in the forest, teaching it the ways of both worlds. But ádám, consumed by jealousy and anger, couldn’t stand the sight of éva’s happiness. He sought them out, determined to destroy what they had built.
“When éva learned of his plan, her fury burned brighter than the stars. She called upon the spirits to find ádám. They obeyed, and when ádám stood before her, she used her power to seal him deep beneath the earth, ensuring he could never harm her family again.
“With ádám gone, éva raised her child in peace, teaching the vólkin to respect life, to live in balance, and to protect what they loved. The vólkin carried these lessons forward, becoming the guardians of the natural world.”
My eyes widen, and anger simmers beneath my skin. éva, the Mother of All, wasn’t just misunderstood, she was silenced. Another woman condemned by the will of men. The thought holds tight in my chest, and my heart pounds like a drum.
I sit up straighter, staring at Theron, my hands trembling.
“Noel?” His brows pull together in concern.
“For centuries,” I say, my voice raw, my words sharp and bitter, “women have been silenced and abused. For centuries—if not longer—women have endured stupid rules made by stupid men.”
My fingers dig into the grass as though it’s the only thing anchoring me to earth. “We suffered! From the very beginning. From the time of creation itself!”
The thundering in my chest becomes louder, each beat stoking the fire in my veins. Around me, the roses respond to my fury, sprouting dark, twisted thorns. My breath comes hard and fast as rage swallows every thought.
I try to push myself up, but my body refuses my sudden motion. The nymphí are at my sides instantly, holding me firmly. Theron moves just as quickly, his strong arms wrapping around me.
I clutch at his thick fur, my fingers trembling, my chest heaving with my fury. My vision blurs as anger boils through me.
Looking up at him, my voice shakes, raw and enraged.
“I will restore the balance.”