Chapter 26 - Freya
Freya
The rifle kicked against my shoulder, and downrange, the target splintered exactly where I’d aimed.
“Perfect,” Heath murmured against my ear, his hand steadying me. “Again.”
I’d only held a few guns in my hands before today — and I hadn’t fired one since I’d tried to defend myself against Pandora. Now, with Denraider’s howls expected any moment, Heath had decided rusty wasn’t good enough.
“You’re out of practice,” he’d said that morning, laying out a rifle and a handgun I would practice with.
We’d positioned our makeshift gun range to avoid friendly fire or ricochets, and other shifters practiced alongside me as Heath explained our goals.
“We need every advantage we can get. The plan is to pick off as many Denraider wolves as possible before they reach our lines — lessen their numbers before the real fighting starts.”
“You want me back with the long-range fighters, not on the front lines,” I accused.
“Of course we do,” Rowan said, approaching so silently only our bonds kept me from being startled by his sudden arrival.
He took Heath’s spot, who fell back to stand beside Zak. Rowan’s hand adjusted my grip slightly, his touch gentle.
“Breathe,” he instructed.
My bestial mate’s wild pine and cedar scent surrounded me, comforting me.
“Your wolf knows how to hunt. Let that instinct guide you.”
I exhaled slowly and squeezed the trigger. Another hit, dead center.
“Well done,” Heath called from where he stood with Zak, both of them watching with identical expressions of satisfaction and pride.
“You taught her well,” Rowan said, pressing a kiss to my left ear, grazing Tor’s claiming bite and making me shiver.
“My turn,” Zak said, appearing beside us with that confident smile. “Magic can help with accuracy too.”
“Then let’s up the challenge,” Heath grinned.
Fern had just changed out one of her targets, and Heath murmured something to her. She handed him what almost looked like a small stop sign, but when he twirled it in his hand, I saw the circles of a target painted on its face.
“This time, a moving target.”
With one arm extended, he held the target out to his side, then proceeded to walk to the side.
My eyes widened. “What if I miss?”
“You won’t,” Rowan promised.
“I’ll shield him, just in case,” Zak whispered, soothing my fears. To Heath, he called, “Don’t make me heal you today.”
“C’mon, my little warrior wolf,” Heath called. “You hit the last one dead center.”
Zak touched my shoulder, lending me his magic. “Let the magic guide your aim, sense the target’s exact position.”
Rowan’s hands tightened on my hips. “Track it. Don’t think. Just feel. You are the hunter.”
Heath waved the target up and down, challenging me. I steadily inhaled, letting my magic track his movements. Soon I felt I could sense it even with my eyes closed.
I followed the target, let my breath slow, and fired.
It flew easily, and felt more precise. The bullet struck dead center without effort.
Something primal flashed in Rowan’s eyes — pure gold wolf satisfaction. “That’s my mate,” he growled, the possessive pride in his voice sending heat rushing through me.
“It worked!”
“Everything’s easier when you combine different kinds of strength,” Zak said, his eyes warm.
“Excellent,” Gage’s voice came from behind us, and I turned to see my pack alpha approaching with Tor. “But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“I thought the plan was to pick them off as they charge us,” I turned to Heath, who suddenly wouldn’t meet my gaze.
“We’re keeping you at the back,” Gage growled, as if the thought of me being anywhere else personally offended him. “You’ll need to be safe without any distractions as you wield the pack mind.”
Now I understood… Heath wanted me sharp, but it wasn’t so I could help pick off the first wave of Denraider attackers. It was in case they broke through far enough to reach me.
“You think they’re going to overrun us,” I whispered through the Bonded link so as not to break morale.
Gage studied the firing range, taking in the defensive preparations. “Heath, coordinate with Artemis about positioning our shooters. We’ll want them staggered along the perimeter.”
“Already planned,” Heath said with that half-smile I loved. “Thatcher’s wolves are setting up to the east, Midnight Path to the west. Artemis at the center, Moonblessed in reserve.”
“Good.” Gage’s hand found my shoulder, squeezed gently. “Take a break, Freya. You need to be fresh and ready. Denraider could attack any time.”
I wanted to protest that I could keep practicing, that I needed to be better, faster, more prepared.
But the exhaustion pulling at my bones told me he was right.
I’d been pushing myself hard — target practice, failed dreamwalking attempts ruining my sleep, magic training with Zak as often as I could, pack mind exercises whenever enough people were free to try it out.
“Come on,” Flint said, appearing at my elbow as Rowan reluctantly released me. “Let’s get some food in you.”
As we walked back toward the center of camp, Fern fell into step beside us.
The three of us moved through the organized chaos of allied packs preparing for war — New Dawn wolves reinforcing barriers, Midnight Path shifters running patrol routes, Moonblessed guards coordinating supply distribution from the city.
“You’re getting good with that rifle,” Flint observed.
“Heath’s a patient teacher. And Rowan surprised me, too.”
“He’s a good hunter in any form,” Flint said without hiding the admiration in his voice.
Fern dipped her head in respect as we passed Artemis, her new pack alpha. As I glanced between her and Flint, it occurred to me that Fern had once been in the position I found myself, with a sibling in danger.
“Fern…” She raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to say what I had to say. “How did you survive all those years, separated from your littermate?”
Valkyrie and I weren’t even littermates, probably just half-siblings, but the thought of her suffering under Denraider’s cruelty for all these years…
She answered me, her gaze on the distant mountains. “It was hard,” she said quietly. “Worrying about him for years, never knowing what became of him.”
Through the Bonded link, I felt Flint’s spike of old pain — the years he’d been separated from Fern, not knowing if the other was okay.
“When he was exiled, I didn’t know if he was alive or dead. Every day I wondered if I’d ever see him again, if he was safe, if he hated me for getting him exiled.”
“Never,” Flint swore, but Fern waved him off.
She turned to look at me. “The not knowing nearly broke me.”
“How did you survive it?”
“By holding onto hope. By trusting that he was strong enough to endure.” She paused. “And by focusing on what I could control — making Frost Fang better, even if it was just in small ways. Fighting for the wolves I could help.”
Fern’s directness was refreshing. No platitudes, no false reassurances. Just honest understanding from someone who’d been there.
“I’m afraid she’s going to die never knowing she had a sister who tried to save her.”
“She won’t die,” Tor’s certainty through the bond was absolute.
“Spying on us?” I asked, and Flint smirked.
“Our bonds are tighter than ever,” Flint answered for Tor. “And you leak a lot through the bonds.”
“My vision showed her freedom, remember?” Tor reminded me. “Three mates who will move heaven and earth for her.”
I did remember… and I didn’t like it. Some part of me still didn’t fully trust that he could know through a vision that those three were her future mates.
Oblivious to our mental conversation, Fern reassured me, “If she’s anything like you, it’ll take more than an alpha like Lydell to take down your sister.”
“My head believes it, but my heart is terrified,” I confessed. “Most of the time I feel like I’m barely holding it together.”
“But you are holding it together,” Fern insisted. “Even though you don’t know where your sister is, even though you can’t reach her. You’re still here, still leading, still fighting for all of us.”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“You do.” Fern stopped walking, forcing us to face her.
“Everyone holds you in high regard. If you asked us to strike now… risk everything to save her… some of us would follow you right into Denraider’s jaws.
But it would tear the alliance apart. You’re choosing to put the alliance first, because it’s the best path forward for the future, even though it’s tearing you apart. ”
Flint’s hand found mine, his fingers threading through my own. “Fern’s right. That takes incredible strength.”
“It doesn’t feel strong,” I said quietly. “It feels like I’m abandoning her.”
“You’re not.” Fern’s voice was fierce. “You’re building something worth saving her for. A world where she can be free, where Odinswolves don’t have to hide, where packs don’t enslave their weakest members.”
The wisdom in her words settled over me, reminding me that she and Flint had more in common than it had once seemed.
“I’ve always longed for a sister,” I admitted. “Growing up in Ironwood, watching other wolves with their siblings… I wanted that so badly.”
“She’s alive. You’ll meet her soon enough,” Fern said with conviction.
Maybe it was too soon to think about such things, but Fern was growing on me, and I hoped one day I could call her sister, as well. Didn’t mates normally consider their mate’s siblings their siblings?
“Thank you, Fern.”
She pulled me into a hug, and I let myself take comfort in it. When we separated, Flint was watching us both with such love and pride that my chest ached.
“My two favorite women,” he said softly. “Together.”
Fern rolled her eyes, but her smile was warm. “Don’t get sappy on me, brother.”
“Too late.” He pulled us both close, one arm around each of us.
We stood like that for a moment, the three of us, and I felt something settle in my chest. Maybe even if I never met Valkyrie, I could have this. A sisterly bond with Fern. And maybe, eventually, with Heath’s sisters too, if I ever got to meet them.