Chapter 46 Chains of Distrust
CHAINS OF DISTRUST
“To lead is not to be loved, and to protect is not to be forgiven. A leader chooses knowing that loyalty may break and blood may stain the soil where they stand.”
—Láda Velé?a, Goddess of Leadership and War
Theron
Istand, arms crossed, as Noel speaks to Gregor with such a soft voice that I feel the urge to end him right here and now.
My jaw clenches, and my claws itch to extend.
Every instinct in my body is screaming to stop this.
He’s a threat. The human doesn’t belong in ávera, and every moment he spends among us puts us in more danger.
But instead of ordering his removal, Noel is . . . comforting him.
Sweet-talking him, smiling at him. Touching him.
The sound of her gentle words grates on my nerves. My claws twitch, wanting to dig into something. Into his skull. She’s being too sweet.
I can’t understand it. After everything we just heard, how can she continue to show him this kindness?
Every time I look at Gregor, all I see is filth.
His hunched body, quivering at her feet.
And yet, Noel spares him again. The way she looks at him, the concern in her eyes—it twists the beast inside me.
I want to protect her. I want to protect ávera. I want her to look at me.
Noel finishes giving her orders. The way he looks at her, even now, broken and quaking, it disgusts me. There’s something in his eyes. Does he see her the way I do?
He’s looking at her neck, her hair, her eyes. He’s looking at what’s mine. But I hold my tongue. If I push too hard, I’ll only make things worse. Noel’s decisions carry weight, but so do mine. We need to work together if we’re going to survive our next steps.
As Noel turns away, I step forward, my eyes locking onto the vólkins nearby. They stand tall, waiting for direction. Their paws flex, claws half-extended, mirroring my own unease.
“Chain him,” I command. The vólkins snap to attention. “I want him guarded at all times. He’s not to move without supervision. No one shows him mercy. Understood?”
They nod, baring their fangs as they exchange glances. Good. They understand.
“If he tries anything—anything at all—you report it to me. We’re not taking chances.”
One of the younger vólkins, his fur bristling, speaks.
“Shall we begin the chains now, Theron?” I glance back at Gregor, who’s still kneeling on the ground.
His hands shake where they dig into the dirt.
He doesn’t look like a threat. Not in this state.
But I know better. Weakness is a disguise predators wear when they want you to drop your guard.
“Do it,” I say. “Don’t let him out of your sight.”
The vólkins move quickly. One grabs him by the arm and drags him to his feet. Gregor stumbles, nearly falling again, but my warrior jerks him up, his claws digging into Gregor’s arm, just enough to remind him of his place. The other vólkin crouches down and secures his ankles with ropes of energy.
Gregor doesn’t struggle. His head hangs low, his body limp as they lead him away.
They will bring him to the cages. We’ve never used them before, but right now, it’s the best option for him.
We have at least a hundred empty houses, grown for future mates to bond in ávera. Some of them will need a fresh start, as some vólkins prefer to live in the forest.
I watch them go. If Noel wants him to stay, fine, but it’ll be on my terms. He’ll be watched. And if he so much as looks at us wrong, I’ll deal with him myself.
There is one more conversation I need to have, one that won’t be easy. My mate stands a few steps away, her back to me, staring into the forest. Her shoulders are tense.
“We need to talk,” I say, my voice softer than I feel. But she is my mate, and even if I’m angry with her, I shouldn’t let myself unleash it. She turns slowly, and when her eyes meet mine, I see the unease there.
“You’re angry,” she says.
“Of course I’m angry,” I snap, unable to hold back the growl in my throat. “You’re letting him stay here, and you let him live. Again. You’re still showing him mercy.”
Noel’s brow furrows, but she doesn’t break eye contact. “I know what I’m doing, Theron.”
“Do you? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re putting everyone in danger.
He shouldn’t be here, Noel. He might look weak, but these people who tortured him—they’ll come looking for him.
For us. You’re risking everything, and for what?
We’ve never faced threats from outside the forest. ávera is all we know. ”
What if they’re already here? Watching us? We know nothing about them. It’s a threat I can’t fight yet, and I hate that. Gregor’s presence here is opening us up to danger.
“My instincts are telling me . . . something,” she says. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel like I need to keep him alive. He’s human, like me. And he’s never done anything wrong.”
“Your instincts?” My claws flex in frustration. “We’re talking about the safety of ávera. What if you’re wrong?”
Noel’s eyes flash with a spark of anger. “And what if I’m right? What if Gregor has information that could help us? He mentioned the Shadow Guild. We’ve never heard of them before, and we need to find out more.”
I exhale slowly. I hate this, feeling powerless against an unknown threat. As much as I want to dismiss it, I can’t ignore the possibility that Gregor might have valuable information.
In his state, he surely didn’t share everything he knew.
“I get it, Noel. I do. But you have to understand . . . you’re not only risking yourself.
You’re risking all our people. Our land.
” The words come out harsher than I intend, but I can’t take them back.
If Gregor’s presence led the Shadow Guild’s eyes to us, we’d be fighting a war on unknown ground.
ávera’s centuries of peace might shatter in a single night.
Noel’s shoulders sag. “I’m not trying to push you away, but I have to follow my instincts. I can’t ignore what I feel.”
“And I can’t ignore my duty to protect you. To protect ávera.” My voice softens. “We have to find a balance, Noel. I can’t keep standing by while you make decisions that could risk everything we’ve built.”
She’s trying to do what’s right, just as I am. But we’re pulling in different directions, and that’s a problem. Two leaders clashing over thoughts and beliefs. This is dangerous.
“We’ll keep Gregor locked up,” she says after a moment. “But we’ll also question him. Find out what he knows.”
It’s a compromise, but it doesn’t sit right with me. “Fine. But if he so much as breathes wrong, I’ll deal with him.”
Noel nods. There’s no clear victory here, only the sense that something is shifting, something neither of us can fully control. And that’s what scares me the most.
She made her choice. And I made mine. But I can’t shake the feeling that one of us will regret it.
My mate has been gone for some time now, and I can’t leave things as they are. I close my eyes and filter out all the scents around me to focus on hers.
My paws lead the way, and my soul warms as I approach the cliff I showed her yesterday. Is she in the cave?
I keep walking, and finally, I find her again. She stands on the top of the cliff, shoulders tight, fury simmering beneath her skin. In her hands, she grips a wooden branch three times the width of her arm and far heavier than any human should be able to manage with ease. Then I see her move.
Noel whirls with the branch like it’s an extension of her arm, in perfect control. Each strike cuts through the air. Her motions are precise, but also elegant. I wonder how many times she’s done this before.
She brings the branch down on a massive rock with a crack that echoes through the forest. The ground shakes with each blow. She strikes again, and again, faster, harder, until dust clouds rise around her and the rock begins to chip.
She is fascinating.
With a final groan, she lifts the branch high and slams it down with such force that it snaps in two.
The broken end splinters in her hand, but she doesn’t pause, she drives what’s left of it into the rock, shoving until stone gives way with a grating crunch.
A hole—no, a crater—carved into its middle. “Not enough,” she breathes.
“Why not?” I ask.
My mate turns her head to me and throws the broken wood.
“Noel.”
She walks to the edge of the cliff, facing ávera. “We had our first fight. I feel uneasy about it, but . . . what else can I do?” A deep sigh escapes her.
I come to stand beside her, watching ávera too.
“Gregor’s a man caught between power and horror.
I feel like I understand him. He’s endured so much, been thrown into a harsh reality he never asked for .
. . just like me. I’ve seen what power can do, how it twists and corrupts.
I know it all too well. All I want is to bring this place into a new era, where children can grow up free, surrounded by nature.
Where women can live their lives on their own terms.”
“It is as though you read my soul, my dove. I, too, wish for all of it, except for Gregor. He may be your kind, and you may feel those feelings, but you’ve left your old life to start a new one. In this life, everything changes.” I rest my paw on her head and caress her gently.
She leans into my touch, and my soul sings. We turn to face each other fully.
“We will go with your decision, and we’ll interrogate Gregor.
We’ll find out what’s going on, and we’ll restore balance.
And after we fulfill our purpose, we’ll finally rest and spend the rest of our days in a new world.
A world where children run freely between the trees, where women are safe and those who dare to go against us bleed to nothingness under our wrath.
My Noel, my sweet dove,” I say, crouching to be as close to eye level with her as I can. “I wish for us to fulfill that dream.”
Noel cups my face with both hands and looks into my eyes. “If we die in war—”
“Then they will bury our bones together,” I complete her sentence.
She smiles and leans toward my snout. “I just wish we were one.”