Chapter 11 Easton
Easton
I have never feared sunset like I do today.
In my thirteen hundred and seventy-three years of existence, the night falling scares me.
My phoenix will not allow me to leave Feray's side for anything.
Every time I try to move away, my chest tightens, and I feel as though the air is being ripped from my lungs.
My mate mark thrums in time with her heartbeat. The only thing I can guess is that because of our bond and my resurrection, we're tied together tighter than I expected. I swear I feel everything she does. The turmoil in her chest feels like one of the worst storms I weathered a long time ago.
On the surface, Feray looks calm, almost contemplative, as her eyes study the wall of ice before her. "What's on your mind?" I scoot up alongside her and kiss her temple.
Sighing, Feray shakes her head and finally turns to look at me. "I feel it." She stretches her hand out to the section of ice before her. Her words draw the attention of the others, and we gather around her.
"Where is it?" I step forward into her field of vision.
Feray takes three steps forward and places her hand on the ice, then moves to the left several feet. "Here..." Watching her bare hand rest on the ice is interesting. The cold doesn't seem to bother her.
"Are you cold?" Torben asks, pulling a pair of small gloves out of his bag.
"No. The cold has never bothered me." She lifts the heavy sweatshirt she's wearing to reveal the tee-shirt underneath.
"Even when your wolf was restrained, magic cannot change who you really are," Diaval says, studying where her hand presses to the ice.
She turns to look at Diaval, and her expression falls. I watch as her eyes lower to the snow where it meets the ice wall. "All these years..."
I glance over at Torben, and he motions for me to take hold of her.
I pull Feray flush to my chest, feeling the thunder of her bite mark in perfect sync with the pounding of her heart.
My phoenix starts its song—a low, soft, and sweet melody that hasn't graced my lips in over a millennium.
I close my eyes, tucking her head under my chin, and let the ancient song flow.
It's the song that mates call to each other.
Her voice, laced with wolven tones, harmonizes with mine, flitting together in a beautiful, haunting answer. Opening my eyes, I see her feather burning brightly, as if she were a phoenix herself. It pulses in time with the tones we hit together.
"I haven't ever seen this in all my long years," Diaval says, stroking a hand down Feray's arm, his eyes wide with awe.
"What is it?" Khal asks, his gaze darting between us.
"The song of mates. A tune I believed was long forgotten." Diaval murmurs, entranced by our duet.
I don't dare stop until the last note is sung.
Feray pulls away gently, continuing her part of the song.
Her fiery tresses flow behind her as she turns to face the ice wall.
She places her hand on the ice, and it pulls back, responding to her sheer will alone.
The moon isn't even in the sky yet, but she's opening the way.
Defying all our expectations. As the last note rolls off my tongue, Feray finishes several notes after me.
When she turns to face me, her pupils seem ablaze.
Her gaze searches my face, as if looking for the answers to the universe.
"There's a dragon's song yet to be sung," she whispers, her brows furrowing.
"Yes, there is." I say faster than Diaval does.
"Why hasn't it been done yet?" Her gaze sweeps over to Diaval.
"We don't question the will of dragons. He would, however, prefer to sing the song in his own voice." Diaval tilts his head with a playful grin.
Feray shakes her head and slaps his chest. "Stop calling Diaval 'meat bag,'" she demands, staring up into his dragon-slit eyes with fierce determination.
"You can hear his shift?" I arch a brow, looking between them. I thought I was the only one whose shift she could hear.
"Yes. The gigantic scaly one is quite cantankerous at times.
He enjoys threatening to keep the skies from Diaval.
" Her brow arches as she holds Diaval's intense gaze.
The shifting of bone plates under her skin is mesmerizing and unsettling.
"Don't blame him because you didn't use your inside voice.
" Watching Feray argue with Diaval's dragon is concerning. My heart races, unsure of the outcome.
"I don't know what's more concerning," Khal says. "The fact she hears his dragon or that it looks like she may be winning."
"Oh, she's definitely winning." Diaval smirks. "He's currently backpedaling."
My eyes dart between them. "Internal arguing?" I question, since no one else seems to hear anything.
Diaval's gaze shifts away from Feray's for a millisecond. "You guys don't hear her?"
I look at the others, and we all shake our heads. "Not a word."
"Not even a growl." Torben says before Feray looks back at us, then toward the cavern she had inadvertently opened ahead of time.
"Let's eat before we continue. I'm not sure what's on the other side. My gut tells me the minute the cavern opens on the other side, I'll be attacked."
Her voice is hollow as she grabs hold of Torben and Khal, leading them back to the packs.
Diaval tilts his head in the opposite direction of the others. We walk for several moments, our steps crunching softly. I make sure to keep Feray and the others within my line of sight, sensing Diaval's tension as he turns to watch them eat. "I have several concerns," he says, his voice low.
"Like what?" I move to stand shoulder to shoulder with him as we vigilantly watch Feray and the others.
"It's not nighttime, and she opened the cavern without any instruction. Her instincts guided her."
"The moon should have done it for her. She reminds me of her ancestor, Jora. From what I remember, she was one of the most powerful Lunas until now." I stuff my hands into my jacket pockets.
"Jora was a powerful Luna, but she didn't have anything to fight for. Her mate was abusive and restrained her gifts with a mage's cage." Diaval growls deep in his chest. "Unfortunately, it is against the accords to interfere in the matters of mates."
Shaking my head, I look back at Feray. "It seems other than Clarion, all the females were used strictly for breeding and nothing else." The bitterness in my voice surprises even me. "It's the difference that being true mates makes versus an arranged loveless marriage."
"Dragon flights are no better. Neither are the nests of the basilisks. Bears have the highest success rate for finding their mates." Diaval watches Torben and Khal offering Feray more food.
"Wolves, oddly enough, have a lower success rate for whatever reason. It doesn't make any sense why. They have the numbers." I toss the thought out there.
"Do you think it's because the wolves are becoming too closely related? That the diversity is lacking?" Diaval strokes his chin.
"It's highly probable. Especially the northern packs. They've been cut off for the last forty years. How Feray's parents escaped is a mystery." My eyes drift toward the open cavern.
"If Lyra was anything like her daughter, it wouldn't shock me if she ripped the ice open to escape.
" Diaval turns his gaze to the darkening sky.
"She was willing to die rather than be forced into an arranged marriage.
As much as I don't agree with suicide, it takes a certain strength to maintain one's autonomy.
" Diaval speaks from a place of personal experience.
Leaving his flight and the protection of the nest took a great deal of courage. I can see the pain flicker in his eyes.
"We should join the others and eat before we enter the cavern," I suggest, more for Diaval's benefit than my own. His shift demands more fuel to maintain its core temperature.
"I'm more worried about Feray eating than me." He sighs, signaling for me to lead the way.
"This is her natural environment. You, my friend, need it in case you have to shift." I pat his shoulder and give him a gentle push forward.
As we approach, Feray's keen senses alert her to our presence. She grabs a chunk of meat and rushes over to Diaval. "You need to eat more." Her voice blends concern and command. She waves the hunk of raw meat in his face.
"My eternal, in this form, I eat my meat mostly cooked. But thank you for thinking of me." Diaval bends down and kisses her gently.
I take the hunk of meat from Feray. Removing my gloves, I cup the meat in my bare hands and summon my flames, feeling the familiar heat surge through my veins.
The mouthwatering scent of roasting lamb fills the air.
Once it's cooked enough, I open my hands and offer the meat to Diaval.
"No excuse now, old man..." I chuckle and walk away as he takes the meat.
"Old man? You're older than I am." Diaval protests.
"That's true, but you act like you're thrice my age." I retort with a wink, bending down to scoop a handful of snow to clean my hands. As everyone finishes their meal, a heavy sense of anticipation settles over us. The time to depart is near.
The northern territories await—a land I haven't seen since before the last wars. I can't help but wonder how much has changed, what new landscapes and dangers lie ahead. The thought fills me with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. The kind that only comes with venturing into the unknown.
And with Feray leading us, I know one thing for certain.
Whatever lies on the other side of that ice, we'll face it together.