Chapter 52
Feray
My stomach feels like a bottomless pit, gnawing at me with a relentless hunger that grows fiercer with every bite of meat I consume. The more I eat, the more ravenous I become. My mates were right—I pushed myself too far, drained every ounce of energy, and it nearly cost me my life.
Though I didn't consciously mean to snap at Torben, my wolf had other plans.
This time, she doesn't want to share. I'm grateful my mates sense how defensive and starving I am.
They quickly move the rest of the sheep and goats away from me.
The last thing I want is to hurt someone by accident.
But the growl that rumbles in my stomach as I tear into the carcass makes me want to cry.
From what I've read, winter wolves require far more food than others because of the power we hold within us—power that demands fuel.
I glance around, noticing the others moving in small groups across the field.
My guys stay close but keep a respectful distance, forming a buffer between me and the pack.
Close enough to protect, far enough not to provoke.
My crimson-stained muzzle lifts as I tug at the carcass, trying to get to the other side. Diaval arches a brow at me, then flashes his talons in a silent offer. "Would you like me to cut the wool away?"
I look down at the thick, tangled wool and realize it would be easier to let him help. Yes, please. I force myself to sit a few feet away, trying to suppress the urge to lunge at him.
Diaval approaches cautiously, his movements slow and deliberate. "I'm just going to help you, then back away." But the growl in my chest starts low and deep, and I feel my muscles bunch, ready to spring. My wolf is on edge, her instincts driving her to protect our meal.
"No." Diaval's voice cuts through, suddenly sharp and commanding, the power of his dragon lacing every word. His eyes blaze with intensity, those draconic slits narrowing as he exerts pressure on me.
I lock my frame, fighting the urge to bow under his command. My wolf snarls, angry and starving, but I know this is for our own good. She growls again, a warning, as we try to stand.
Diaval moves quickly, positioning himself in front of me, his dragon's growl rumbling in his chest. An obvious challenge. "Lay down if you love us," he orders, his voice carrying an edge of desperation. "We don't want to hurt you. Your hunger is making you almost feral."
"Feral wolves get put down," Dorian's voice cuts through the tension, his tone cold and ominous.
My focus pins on Dorian, and my blood runs cold as his words settle in.
Did he just threaten us? A low growl rumbles from deep within me, rising with every breath until it vibrates through my chest. My eyes lock on him, narrowing with each passing second.
Every muscle coils tight, ready to spring, to sink my teeth into him.
Damn this hunger—I'm almost feral, and maybe they're right.
Before I can lunge, Khal's basilisk grabs me and wraps its coils around me tightly, making me immobile. His coils tighten, squeezing the breath from my lungs the more I struggle. I thrash against him, but it's no use. His grip only grows stronger.
"My eternal." Diaval's voice cuts through the haze of my fury.
He steps into my line of sight, his presence commanding, but his eyes—his eyes are human again, filled with fear and pain.
"You need to regain control of yourself.
More than just your life is at stake here.
" The sincerity in his voice makes my heart ache.
He's right. As much as I hate to admit it, he's right.
Easton steps closer, his gaze soft but firm as he reaches out, his fingers brushing against my head. The warmth that radiates from his touch spreads through me like a soothing balm, easing the frantic pace of my heartbeat.
"I'm sorry, my flame," he murmurs, his voice heavy with regret. "I need to soothe your wolf and help her relax. She's afraid of starving because of the miracle you two pulled off." His words hit me like a blow.
Why didn't you tell me? I ask my wolf.
We saw all the nights you barely ate because of being poor and me being trapped, she replies, her voice tinged with guilt.
I couldn't protect us. Being hungry scared me, thinking it was happening again.
I share her words with my mythic mates, and they both nod in understanding, their eyes reflecting a deep, shared sorrow.
"You can release her, Khal. She's okay now," Easton says.
Khal's coils slowly unwind, the pressure easing as he lets me down gently onto my four paws. His massive spiked head turns to look at me, and I feel a surge of gratitude. I lick the tip of his maw—a silent thank you for holding me together when I was about to unravel.
My steps are tentative as I walk over to Diaval, my tail tucked low in a gesture of submission. I lay down before him, resting my head on my paws as my eyes flutter closed. This submission isn't about power. It's about love, respect, and trust. I hear Diaval's footsteps as he approaches.
"There's my good girl." His voice is a soothing purr as he slides his hand under my bloodied muzzle, gently lifting my head.
He presses a tender kiss between my eyes, just below Easton's feather.
Then, without another word, he turns to skin the sheep, preparing to provide for me in the way only he can.
When my hunger is finally sated, I shift back, feeling the cool air against my skin.
Torben is there immediately, offering me a wet wipe to clean my face.
I take it with a grateful smile, wiping away the remnants of the meal.
As I finish, he leans forward, pressing a tender kiss between my eyebrows.
"I love you, little wolf." Then, with a soft laugh, he adds, "I can't call you 'little' anymore.
Your wolf stands almost as tall as my bear. "
His words bring a radiant smile to my face. The memory of the day we met flashes through my mind—how his smile had been just as bright, filled with hope that seemed to light up the entire world. He had looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered.
If only I had been fully awakened then, my wolf laments.
I push the thought aside and dive into Torben's arms, seeking the comfort of his embrace. "You give the best hugs," I murmur, rubbing my face against his chest.
He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest. "You know where to find me for a good snuggle."
Khal's voice cuts in, teasing but affectionate.
"We all know what your snuggles turn into.
" In one smooth motion, he pulls me toward him, tucking me securely under his arm.
There's an edge of concern in his eyes. "I didn't hurt you, did I?
Putting you in my coils was the only thing I could think of. "
"I'm all good," I reassure him, placing a hand on his chest. "We're grateful for your quick thinking."
As I glance around, I see some of the pack returning from their hunts. The others are finishing up the last bits of cleanup. There's a sense of contentment, but also lingering tension, as if we're all waiting for something just beyond the trees.
"By car, it's going to take us four days, maybe five," Diaval says, holding his phone out, his eyes scanning the map program. Four or five days of uncertainty, driving through territory that's hostile at best and dangerous at worst.
"We're not welcome in Vasserdell," Diaval continues, his voice calm but edged with unease. "So as much as it's ill-advised, we need to drive through Moors Farm into Redshale and then back through Norburg. From there, we can skirt the edge of the magic district and get to the cabin."
I stare at the glowing map, the lines and markers blurring as my mind races.
The idea of passing through Moors Farm sends a shiver down my spine.
There's no love lost between us and the locals there.
"Aren't there old migration trails that the SUV can go down to avoid Moors? " A girl can hope, right?
Easton chimes in before Diaval can answer, his expression grim. "Yes, but there's no guarantee they're still viable. If they're not, it could add days onto the trip because of backtracking." The reality of our situation settles in, cold and unyielding.
Dorian steps forward, holding up his paper map.
"We'll skirt the mountain as planned. When we reach about here—" He points to the second largest mountain peak between Norburg and Redshale.
"We'll start heading south between the two towns and skip that tavern you mentioned, Khal. " Khal nods in agreement.
"We'll cross the river here." Dorian points to the space above the bridge where Fi's parents died. "Then head straight to the sleuth." He glances at Torben for confirmation.
"Looks like we're all set. Stay safe, everyone." I look at my pack, meeting everyone's watchful gaze. In my heart, I feel responsible for each and every one of them. You're their Luna, of course you do. They are your pack and family. Pack protects pack.
My wolf goes silent again.
I nod to myself, grab my pack, and lead my mates back to the SUV to start our journey to the cabin—to wait for Fi.