Chapter 51 Awaiting Nightfall
AWAITING NIGHTFALL
“A crystal you are born. Yet a day shall come when you find a rose, not crimson, as men’s songs tell, but deep as the endless blue of the sea. And in her, your soul shall awaken. In her, your destiny shall bloom.”
—ánya, holding newborn Theron
Theron
“I’ve never seen such a rose before!” Kael gasps.
“My mate gifted it to me.” I show off the most precious treasure I’ve ever received.
I didn’t expect one at all. The female is the gift, her very existence.
Perhaps it’s human culture for a female to do such a thing.
But I love it, it’s from her. Even if she gifted me a leaf spirit, I’d say thank you and cherish it forever.
Tonight, my mate and I will become one. Just the thought of it, of finally claiming her, of everything falling into place, sends heat coursing through me, unsheathing my cock.
I’ve waited for this day for so long. Over four hundred years of yearning, of searching, of wondering when I would find the other half of my soul.
I stand in the stream with my bratya. Aeson is the first to step out of the water, his bright white fur glinting in the sunlight. Then Zephyr, Kael, and finally me. Together, we shake the last of the water from our fur, and the droplets catch the light like scattered crystals.
I lift my gaze to the sky. The sun shines bright. The blooming season paints ávera in different colors of nature. But this year, blue shines the brightest.
“The first of us to bond,” Zephyr says, a smile tugging at his mouth as he rests his paw on my shoulder.
I nod in acknowledgment.
“It is a great honor, Theron,” Aeson adds as he crosses his arms.
It is indeed. My mate is not only the Lidé?en from the prophecy but also the one destined to break the curse that has plagued us for generations. Pride swells in my chest. My mate.
“And we won’t even be here to watch you celebrate your lives together!” Kael whines, his tail flicking in frustration.
With a forceful sigh, I close the distance between us. Zephyr’s paw falls to his side as I turn my full attention to Kael.
“There won’t be time for celebration,” I say, my voice bitter.
I wish it were different. Being the first bonded vólkin in centuries is an honor, but it comes with an unbearable weight.
My mate and I carry the responsibility of starting a war—a war to end the suffering of this world.
Where my ancestors chose complacency, we will act.
Where they turned their backs, we will lead.
“Will you leave tomorrow?” Kael asks after a moment of silence.
“Yes.”
“After us?”
“Yes.”
Our time joining together will be brief, as will any chance to enjoy the bond we’ve waited so long to form.
“The tsar’s army waits, their ambush approaches. We cannot afford to wait. We must be ready. We must strike first and take them by surprise.”
For centuries, we have trained as one, guided by raw strength and instinct. But now, Noel brings us something new. She transforms our chaos into precision, our instinct into strategy. She makes us more than brutal beasts.
The time of useless strikes is over. Tomorrow, we fight as a force united. Each warrior will carry more than raw strength into battle, they will carry purpose. Noel’s vision has forged this into being, and from it, we have shaped three main forces:
Claw Force, the backbone of our strength, the fangs of our might. When they charge, the ground will quake beneath them, and nothing will stand in their path. Their purpose is to break and destroy.
Shade Force, the eyes in the shadows, the ears in the silence. They will see what others cannot, move where others dare not tread, and strike before the enemy even knows they are there.
Crystal Force, the healers and protectors, the salvation in the chaos. They will tend to the wounded, shield the weak, and save those who might otherwise be lost. The women and children we free may be hurt, and it will be Crystal Force that keeps them—and us—standing.
When we attack, the warriors will divide into packs, and each pack will carry the strength of all three forces: the might of the Claw, the cunning of the Shade, and the resilience of the Crystal.
This is the structure we bring to the battle ahead. No longer lost wolves, we are an army. Noel has given us this vision, and together, we will show the tsar’s forces what it means when the vólkins rise united.
“Do you remember how Kael tried to dig under the barrier to find his mate?” Aeson says, amused.
Kael groans, rolling his eyes. “Oh, come on—”
“Only to discover the barrier continued underground,” Zephyr adds with a chuckle.
A grin tugs at my mouth as I recall those days. We were frustrated, desperate, and willing to do anything to break free. It feels good to laugh about it now, even if the memory is painful.
“Before you decorate me,” I say, opening and closing my paws, “I want to check on our ‘visitor.’”
My fur is already dry, and soon, I’ll be ready for my bratya to adorn me for my mate. As Elder A?na explained to us during our bonding ritual lesson, males must always look their best for their mates, as a sign of honor and respect.
This is especially true for tonight. Until women awaken, they don’t feel the bond as strongly as we do. And during the ritual, when the vólkin gives his vows, it is her choice whether to accept them or not.
Tonight, she will choose me.
I walk up to Gregor’s house.
Though calling it “his house” feels like the wrong way to describe it. This is a vólkin home, grown for a woman who doesn’t have a mate to create one for her. A skill this human could never master, no matter how long he lived.
Or?on stands near the entrance, his posture stiff and his expression dark. This is his punishment for reckless behavior, a fitting one.
“How’s our guest?” I ask, stopping just outside the door. Gregor is asleep, snoring so loudly I don’t need vólkin senses to notice.
“Still breathing,” Or?on grunts. He’s angry.
Not surprising. I don’t think I’ve ever had a normal conversation with Or?on. Every exchange has felt like a competition, one I’ve won every time.
“Anything unusual about him?”
Or?on lets out a sharp tsk, his ears flicking in annoyance. “No,” he finally says.
Fine. Nothing unusual it is.
“He’s very talkative,” Or?on adds after a moment.
I tilt my head. “What does he talk to you about?”
“Stupid nonsense, Theron,” he bursts out. “Instead of training with the others, instead of preparing for war tomorrow like everyone else, I’m stuck here with this human! Standing around, listening to the crap that comes out of his mouth!”
“You were assigned to stay in ávera with your pack,” I say. “You’re fulfilling a mission that is just as important as the rest.”
His empty eye socket has healed, the scars from my claws permanent marks now.
Within the vólkins, asserting dominance isn’t new.
It’s part of who we are. Most of the time, we respect each other’s achievements, keeping the balance Elder A?na always preaches: “We are one big family, and we must treat each other as such.”
But even in families, there are prideful warriors who can’t resist the urge to challenge authority.
Or?on is one of them. If he were in my place, leading our kind, most of us would be dead by now. That’s not speculation, it’s fact. And it’s why I’d never let him join us in the battle ahead, let alone lead.
Before Gregor arrived, he was tasked with scouting the nearby villages. Instead of returning with his patrolling brothers, as commanded, he struck out on his own. It took three warriors to drag him back to ávera. Or?on has always been a loner, has always believed he can do everything by himself.
I’ve had my eyes on him for a few days now, since the farewell. Some of my warriors have been keeping me updated. Or?on wants to do good, there’s no doubting his intent, but his recklessness and foolish pride could destroy everything we’ve built. And I can’t let that happen.
“Tonight, tell Gregor he can join the ritual from afar. My mate invites him,” I say as I walk back to my bratya.
It is time to make myself even more handsome for my mate tonight.