Chapter 33 - Freya
Freya
The Full Wolf Moon blazed overhead as we slipped out of Three Forks under the cover of darkness. Through the astral house windows, I’d watched the silver orb climb above the mountain peaks, calling to every wolf who could see it.
The day had passed quietly in Three Forks.
Heath received his first official communications about the Congressional swearing-in ceremony and started working with Wendell, Rose, and the Astral Council to ensure his time in DC would be temporary.
The machinery was already turning to find a permanent political representative who shared our values.
I’d contacted all the pack protectors to let them know my sister and her mates could make an appearance in the coming weeks, seeking safety for her first heat, and they’d all agreed to watch out for her.
Zak did some magical consulting work for wolves who requested it.
And Gage did what he always did — coordinated logistics to help other packs keep running.
Through the extended pack mind, I’d caught glimpses of the preparations each of the Astral Packs had undertaken for their own traditional ceremonies tonight.
Moonblessed wolves poured from their walls to enjoy newfound safety in what had once been wildlands, New Dawn wolves from multiple former packs prepared for their first unified run, Celestial Alloy safe to run through their newly designated packlands, Midnight Path gathering around a bonfire, wolves surrounding the lakes in Elder Forest, which gleamed under the celestial light.
All of it had made my wolf restless, eager to run under the open sky.
We could have run with the Ironwood wolves, but the Howling Echo had chosen differently.
“We’re going back to our roots,” Gage had said as afternoon faded to evening.
As we reached the edge of town, I caught sight of Willow in wolf form, making her way toward where Thatcher and Lee would hold the pack run for their new Three Forks region.
She raised her snout and then turned away, an understanding passing between us in the moonlight.
The astral and her protectors would range tonight while Ironwood held their own celebration near their new capital.
Outside of Ironwood’s packlands, we shed our clothes beneath a cluster of evergreens, the cold air sharp against bare skin for the brief moments before we shifted.
My white fur caught the moonbeams, and familiar lightning crackled along the tips from tail to ears.
Under the full moon, my Odinswolf nature sang with power and freedom.
“Perfect,” Heath’s mental voice reached me as his massive silver-white wolf materialized beside me. “You look like you were born from starlight.”
The others followed in quick succession — Gage’s dark gray and white form, Flint’s brown wolf with the distinctive crescent moon marking, Rowan’s pure black bulk, Zak’s smaller but graceful beta wolf, and Torsten’s magnificent white coat that nearly matched my own.
Then we nosed our heads through our sling bags.
They arranged themselves around me in a protective constellation.
The four alphas took the corner points while Zak and Torsten flanked me, keeping me at the center of our formation.
The pack mind narrowed from the vast Astral network to just the seven of us, our bonds humming with shared anticipation.
“Ready to reclaim our territory?” I asked through the mental link.
“Lead the way, lightning bolt,” Rowan’s feral satisfaction pulsed through our connection.
We exploded into motion across the moonlit terrain, seven wolves moving as one magnificent pack through snow that crunched beneath our paws.
The wildlands stretched before us — no longer the deadly wasteland where I’d once fought for survival, but our domain, our sanctuary.
The cold air burned in my lungs, snow spraying from our synchronized strides as we moved like a single organism through the moonlit landscape.
The contrast hit me with every leap and bound.
The wildlands had once tried to kill me, with their rogue alphas, freezing temperatures, near-starvation, and the constant fear of being alone and defenseless with the scent of my heat in the air.
Now I ran free, not as prey, but as the astral who’d helped transform these deadly wastes into neutral, protected territory.
And never alone, with my six powerful mates surrounding me.
My Odinswolf sight suddenly activated without conscious direction. The world shimmered, overlaying the present with glimpses of possible futures.
I saw these same wildlands years from now — not empty and dangerous, but patrolled by mixed groups from the Astral Packs.
Hybrid pups with lightning in their fur racing alongside Lokiswolf children under protective eyes.
Odinswolf littermates — mine and Torsten’s babies perhaps— teaching younger wolves how to dreamwalk between territories.
All free to choose their paths without fear. No more omegas driven into these lands to die. No more refugees fleeing pack to pack with nowhere safe to rest.
“You’re seeing something,” Torsten’s awareness touched my vision. “The threads of what could be.”
“Hope,” I replied, sharing the images through our pack mind. “I’m seeing hope made real.”
“That’s beautiful, moonbeam,” Flint praised. “I can’t wait to see it all come to pass.”
With the vision concluded, my already-expanded mind noticed something else.
“The other packs are celebrating too,” I murmured, letting my consciousness brush lightly against the extended pack mind.
Images flashed through our shared awareness of the other Astral Packs’ celebrations.
Moonblessed wolves circling their walls, voices raised in ancient howls to Grandmother Moon.
Midnight Path’s distant but warm presence as they danced around their bonfires.
The joy of Celestial Alloy’s mixed pack as wary subordinate wolves followed Gabriel, his littermates, and Jasmine on their first ever pack run.
I didn’t intrude on their sacred moments, just noted that we all ran under the same sky, united by choice rather than conquest.
Flint must’ve been feeling the same because he said, “All under the Wolf Moon, all free to honor it in their own way.”
The visions filled me with fierce satisfaction as we crested a low hill, our formation flowing like water over the snowy terrain.
That’s when the scent hit me.
My nose flared as familiar notes cut through the crisp winter air — Odinswolf lightning sharp and clean, mixed with the metallic tang of Denraider blood.
But underneath it all, three distinct alpha-male wolf scents that made my pack’s hackles rise instinctively.
Rowan snarled, but Gage held him back through our pack mind.
I slowed, sending a pulse through our mental link. “Valkyrie.”
Without a single spoken order, our formation shifted. Rowan glided ahead as our scout, golden eyes scanning the terrain. The others fanned out behind me, wary but not hostile. We followed the scent trail only a short distance before movement on a snowy rise ahead caught our attention.
Four wolves stood silhouetted against the moonlight.
Even at this distance, I could identify my sister immediately — a small white wolf whose fur flickered with the same lightning that danced along my own coat. Around her, three larger alpha males in varied pelts formed an unconscious protective triangle.
We padded forward as one unit, the distance between our two groups shrinking with each careful step. The tension in the air was electric — not exactly hostile, but charged with the meeting of powerful forces who’d learned to trust no one.
The four paused as they noticed our approach, alert but not fleeing. Valkyrie’s head lifted, and even across the distance, I felt the moment she recognized my scent. Her lightning flared brighter, a beacon calling to its twin.
We stopped at a respectful distance, perhaps fifty yards separating our two groups. The tension crackled in the air like gathering storm clouds, two sets of powerful alphas sizing each other up while their mates stood at the center of it all.
“Let me go to her,” I requested, already padding forward a few steps. “She and I dreamwalked last night. She’s here for a reason.”
“Freya—” Heath’s worry spiked through the bond.
“She’s my sister,” I reminded them. “And she needs to know she’s safe with us in case she decides to spend her heat here.”
I approached slowly, my tail high but relaxed, head level in a posture that conveyed confidence without aggression. Behind me, I felt my mates’ readiness to intervene if anything went wrong, their love and protectiveness wrapping around me like armor.
Valkyrie mirrored my movement, stepping away from her three guardians to meet me in the space between our groups.
We touched muzzles briefly, a wolf’s version of an embrace, and I felt the electric thrill of Odinswolf recognizing Odinswolf.
Her scent carried exhaustion and wariness, but underneath it all — hope.
Fragile and carefully guarded, but real.
“Sister,” her mental voice rough with emotion she didn’t quite know how to express.
Since we were both Odinswolves, we projected our voices where the others could hear us.
“You’re free,” I replied, pouring all my joy and relief into the words.
“For now.” Her response carried the bitter wisdom of someone who’d learned not to count on anything lasting. “We’re heading for your Midnight Path. These three want to inspect it themselves before they’ll consider it ‘good enough’ for my heat.”
The vulnerability hidden beneath those words made my heart ache. She wanted her three mates desperately, but it still felt dangerous to admit it, even to herself. Twenty-four years of slavery had taught her that desire was a weakness to be exploited.