Chapter 5 #3
A warrior exhaled sharply. Another shifted, their stance softening.
Kareon turned to her, steady. A silent question passed between them.
Eris met his eyes and nodded. She drew a steady breath.
There would be no turning back now, so, without hesitation, she stepped forward, not as a girl thrown into fate, but as a woman who had chosen it.
"I do not stand here to ask for your trust." The fire didn’t crackle.
It listened. "Trust is not given. It is earned.
And I will earn yours." She met their eyes, one by one, unafraid.
"I did not come to beg, or to rule. I came because I could not turn away.
I have seen what this war has done to your people.
To my people. To innocent lives crushed between our endless hatred.
And I will not be another ruler who sits in silence while the world burns. "
A warrior bristled, fingers flexing at his side. Another shifted uncomfortably, his jaw clenching. Yet another turned his gaze away, as if her words had touched something raw beneath the surface.
"I have been called to this path,” she continued. “And I will walk it as someone who chooses peace over war, life over ruin."
The silence that followed was not empty. It was full and heavy, the kind that could not be broken. Something had changed. They had not embraced her, but they were listening.
Then came movement. The warriors stirred as an elderly woman stepped forward. The crowd parted without a word, as if something unseen had willed it so.
Eris turned, her pulse thrumming as the woman approached and stopped before her.
Murmurs rippled through the pack, some confused, some stunned, but the woman’s ancient and knowing gaze never wavered as she lifted a trembling hand toward Eris’s face. Then she knelt. A flicker of breath caught in Eris’s chest. The woman’s voice was reverent.
"Farr kinkara, Seraphina’tai."
Eris didn’t understand the words, but they settled in her bones, old as wind. Kareon exhaled sharply and stepped forward, his expression unreadable.
“She calls you Seraphina.”
Eris’s throat tightened. The woman pressed a palm to her heart, her voice a fragile thread.
“Karrin’ta kal akaror…ntas kal shitan.”
Eris turned to Kareon. “Translate, please.”
He hesitated, jaw tight. Then, reluctantly, he said: “She says she has seen you in her dreams. That the prophecy is waking.”
A hush fell. Eris swallowed hard, the weight of it pressing deeper, threading through her like roots breaking through stone. The woman nodded, her eyes bright with something close to wonder.
“Ilartinta’na. Tun’ktai Seraphina.”
Kareon exhaled again. “The spirits do not forget.”
A dense silence followed. Eris felt the weight of their gazes pressing in, waiting, but the ground beneath her had already shifted. Then Kareon stepped forward. His voice cut through the moment, final and laced with warning. "Enough of this."
He didn’t look at Eris. Not directly. If he did, he might falter. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Too much attention. Too much meaning. She wasn’t ready for this yet.
The woman didn’t argue, but as she rose, her eyes remained steady. The pack had seen. They had heard, and something in the night had changed.
Kareon’s jaw clenched as he turned back toward the fire.
“Enough talk,” he said, pausing with a sharp exhale. “We eat.”
Eris reached for her spoon as the scent of fire-seared meat and spiced broth thickened the air.
Bellara passed her a wooden plate, her fingers hesitant but hopeful.
Eris took it with a small, steady smile.
She lifted a spoonful. The flavor was smoky and bold, laced with unfamiliar spice.
It was different but not unwelcome. Eris swallowed and smiled again, warmer this time. Bellara exhaled, shoulders easing.
Around them, the warriors spoke in low murmurs, their voices edged with steel. They didn’t trust her, and they were not meant to, but they were listening.
Then another shift came. A flicker of foreign emotion brushed her mind: restlessness, hunger, fatigue, drifting like smoke on wind.
She pressed it down, but it pushed harder, until it broke.
A ripple passed through her, followed by a surge.
Eris stilled. Emotions pulled at her like an untamed current without an anchor.
Sharp laughter rose from across the fire, edged with relief.
Doubt coiled in one warrior’s chest. Resentment flickered in another, his jaw locked.
Exhaustion clung to the man beside him, a weight he no longer named.
And there was grief, deep and unspoken. It showed not in faces or voices, but in the silence between them.
It lived in clenched hands. It pressed into shoulders already bowed.
She felt it all. She didn’t sense it. She bore it. Her vision blurred for a heartbeat, her pulse roaring in her ears.
Kaelioth’s warning echoed like a whisper in the dark: The more you walk the spirits’ path, the more it will awaken. If you do not master it, it will master you.
She squeezed her eyes shut, though it was a mistake. The emotions surged harder the moment she tried to shut them out.
A flicker stirred at the edge of her mind like a whisper.
You do not silence the river, child. You let it flow.
The words curled through her bones, as familiar as breath, as distant as prophecy.
Seraphina.
The name struck like lightning through her veins. Her great-grandmother had walked this path and mastered the same power. That meant she could too. The thought steadied her. She drew a slow breath, then another. She could do this.
Across the fire, Kareon watched her. He tracked every breath, every shift, not by choice but by instinct. He didn’t yet understand why, only knew he could not look away.
Eris inhaled sharply as the emotions surged and broke again, pulling at her like unseen tides. Her grip tightened around her spoon.
Breathe. You have to breathe.
For a moment, the world was loud, waves of foreign emotion crashing over her, drowning her in a storm she couldn’t outrun. Then a voice rose, simple and clear, cutting through the chaos like light through fog.
“Is it true the sun burns you to death?”
Eris blinked, drew in a steadying breath, and met the young warrior’s wide-eyed stare.
After a heartbeat she replied, “Not to ash, no…but our skin blisters in minutes without protection.” She dipped a finger to the small tin at her hip.
“We slather on helioshield balm every dawn and dusk, then stick to the shadows when the sun’s at its fiercest.” A faint smile curved her lips. “We’re not fragile. Just sun-shy.”
The warrior frowned. “That’s…not as terrifying as I thought.”
Bellara snorted. “That’s because you lot make up half the nonsense you believe.”
Another voice jumped in, eager now. “What about coffins? Do you really sleep in them?”
Eris sighed and set her spoon down. “No. I sleep in a bed. Just like you.”
Kareon’s jaw tensed, and he looked as if he were contemplating knocking their heads together.
A warrior to her left grinned. “You sure? Seems like a wasted opportunity.”
A ripple of laughter moved through the warriors, hesitant but real.
The weight pressing against her chest eased, just slightly.
Then a blur darted through the firelight, a young pup, nose twitching, aimed straight for Kareon’s plate.
The warriors stilled. The pup lunged, snatching at the food with reckless confidence.
A low growl rose from Kareon. The pup froze.
Kareon’s scowl held, but his hand shifted. He tore a strip of meat and flicked it across the dirt, though not unkind. The pup seized its prize and vanished. The warriors exchanged glances, half amused, half stunned.
Kareon’s voice cut through them. “Do not start.”
Eris bit back a smile. “I was expecting more of an iron fist, Alpha.”
He side-eyed her, unimpressed. “You have a problem with how I run my pack?”
She tilted her head, eyes bright. “I did not say that.”
Bellara chuckled. “She’s got you there.”
Kareon exhaled sharply and shook his head. “Moon save me.”
The moment had softened. But then a voice broke the stillness.
“A good performance. Almost makes one forget what she really is.”
The warmth vanished. Tension coiled back, sharp, through the firelit circle. Eris turned.
Vatryk.
He no longer lounged against the logs. He was leaning forward now, arms braced on his knees, his stare like cold iron.
Beside him, Leira, her gaze narrowed in open disdain.
The words sliced sharper than steel. Eris didn’t flinch, but the warmth inside her fractured.
She wasn’t surprised, just reminded. This was what waited the moment she dared to believe she belonged.
“Fascinating, isn’t it?” Leira said, voice lethal. “How quickly they let their guard down, forgetting who sits among them.”
The murmurs stilled. Kareon didn’t move. He only tilted his head, the kind of motion that carried weight without force.
“I don’t recall asking for your opinion.”
Vatryk watched, cold and calculating. “No,” he murmured. “You did not.” His gaze slid to Eris, unreadable. “Just remember, Kareon. Some of us have longer memories than others.”
A pause followed. The air held still. Kareon’s stare remained flat. Then, slowly, he exhaled.
“Noted.”
He clocked the threat, the shift in loyalties, the lines being drawn. Let them warn. He was watching too.
Vatryk held his gaze a moment longer before leaning back, fingers tapping against his knee. It was not retreat. It was patience.
Leira exhaled sharply, her fingers curling against the wood beneath her. Her eyes stayed on Kareon, but her weight had shifted, just enough to mark where her loyalty leaned.
Kareon rose in one smooth motion, rolling his shoulders as if shedding the weight of the exchange.
“The hunt is in two hours. Prepare yourselves.”
A subtle shift rippled through the pack. Some rose at once. Others lingered a moment longer before slipping silently into the night, already half-wild with anticipation.
Kareon exhaled and glanced at Eris. “Well, that went about as smoothly as a blade to the gut.”
Eris arched a brow. “Yet, somehow, no one is bleeding. A success, then?”
Kareon huffed, shaking his head. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
The fire crackled between them, charged with unspoken tension. For a moment, they stood in silence, Eris bathed in firelight, Kareon watching her with an unreadable expression. Then Kareon smirked, crossing his arms.
“So, should I expect Dragov to storm in at dawn, sword drawn, demanding a duel for your honor?”
Eris scoffed, brushing an invisible speck from her sleeve.
“He is not that dramatic.” She paused. “He will support me. He always has.”
Kareon’s stance shifted subtly. “Are you sure?”
Eris hesitated, almost imperceptibly, but he noticed. “Yes.”
Kareon hummed. “Then you should go, before your precious commander starts envisioning my head on a spike.”
“You overestimate his jealousy,” Eris said. At that, Kareon smirked. “And you underestimate your effect.”
The fire crackled, but the space between them thickened with tension that pulsed just beneath the surface. His gaze lingered a breath too long. Hers didn’t waver. Eris didn’t answer, not because she had nothing to say, but because what she wanted to say wasn’t safe.
Kareon tipped his chin toward the treeline. “Varis and Bellara will escort you back to the Summit.” Then his lips curved into a challenge. “Unless you'd prefer to test your Firstblood endurance by staying in my tent tonight.”
The suggestion hung in the air, deliberate, just enough heat to provoke, just enough restraint to keep her guessing.
Eris didn’t flinch. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, she tilted her head, watching him as he watched her.
“A tempting offer, Alpha.” Her tone was cool and composed. “I’m sure it’s... accommodating.”
The silence that followed was charged, every unspoken word strung tight between them, neither willing to yield. She let it linger, soft as breath, sharp as a dare. There was a pause, a flicker of something in his eyes that vanished too quickly to name. Kareon exhaled sharply and shook his head.
“Moon save me.”
He hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but she was getting under his skin. Too calm. Too steady. She met him without fear, without flinching, and somehow that was worse. He’d meant to test her, push her, keep the upper hand. Instead, he was the one off-balance.
He looked away, jaw clenched, as if distance might help him regain control. Then her voice broke the silence, quiet, but clear.
“Thank you, Kareon. For earlier. For standing by my side.”
It wasn’t praise or submission. It was acknowledgment. Trust. And it struck him with more force than he expected. Kareon stood still, shoulders tight, refusing to face her.
“Don’t thank me,” he said, too rough. “The night isn’t over.”
Eris gave a faint smile. “Sure.”
Bellara stepped forward, clearing her throat. “We should go.”
Eris turned to follow, but before she vanished into the trees, she looked back. Just once. Her eyes found his, steady and hard to read. The moment hung between them, taut with everything unsaid. Then she turned away.
He should have left too. He didn’t. He stood there, staring into the dark where she’d gone. Something shifting in him he couldn’t quite name.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
This was a mistake.