Chapter 36 Hear My Choice #2
Because this was Soren.
The man who had challenged her at every turn, protected her when she least wanted protection, withheld truths he believed dangerous, carried her through snow and blood, and nearly broken something neither of them had fully understood.
The man who had just admitted he had been wrong.
Eira found, to her surprise, that she did not know what to do with that version of him.
Slowly, she lowered her hand back into her lap.
"What do you want, Soren?"
The question seemed to settle over the room like another silence, and beneath it she felt him go completely still.
For a long moment he did not answer. Not because he had not heard, or because he was searching for the right words, but because no one had ever asked him that question before in any real sense.
People had always asked what he intended. What Ironfang needed. What the council expected. What the old laws demanded. What victory required. What sacrifice was necessary.
But never this.
Slowly, Soren lifted his head. He did not rise immediately, remaining kneeling beside the bed, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the firelight as though the answer had to be dragged from a place he rarely allowed himself to look.
When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet.
"I want certainty."
Eira blinked, surprised by the answer.
A faint, humorless smile touched his mouth.
"I know exactly how disappointing that sounds."
The corner of her mouth moved despite everything.
Soren exhaled and rose to his feet.
"I want to know that Frostvein will survive this."
His gaze met hers.
"I want to know that the bond will not kill you."
The smile disappeared.
"I want to know that when you leave a room, I will see you return to it."
Something tightened unexpectedly in her chest.
He crossed the room and stopped beside the hearth, putting distance between them again, as though the honesty he had already offered was difficult enough.
For several moments he watched the flames.
"And beyond that..."
The words faltered. Not completely, but just enough for her to notice.
A man who could address armies without hesitation had reached the edge of something he did not know how to say.
Eira waited.
Soren's eyes remained on the fire.
"When I met you, I thought you were another problem."
"I remember."
"You were stubborn."
"I still am."
"Yes."
For the first time that evening, something warmer entered his expression before fading again.
"I spent months telling myself that every decision I made was for Ironfang."
Eira said nothing.
"Most of them were."
The unspoken truth lingered between them—that not all of them had been.
Soren looked down at his hands. The same hands that had held power for years, challenged Vargan, and carried her from White Pass.
When he spoke again, the words came more slowly.
"I want you to have the choice neither of us had."
Eira frowned slightly.
"What do you mean?"
His gaze lifted.
"If you choose Frostvein, I will take you there."
"If you choose Silverwake, I will make certain no one follows you."
"If you choose neither... then neither."
The familiar certainty returned to his voice—not because the answer was easy, but because once a choice belonged to someone else, Soren knew how to protect it.
"And what if I stay?"
The question left her before she had fully decided to voice it.
Silence settled between them.
Soren held her gaze without looking away. There was nowhere left to hide behind duty, law, or necessity.
When he answered, his words were simple.
"Then I would be glad."
There was no attempt to persuade her, no promise, no declaration—only the truth.
Somehow that felt more dangerous than anything else he could have said.
For a long moment neither of them spoke. The fire crackled softly in the hearth while Eira lowered her gaze to her hands.
The mark beneath her skin was quiet. Not gone, and perhaps it never would be, but quiet for now.
When she looked back up, Soren was still watching her with the same patience he had shown since entering the room. The sight stirred something inside her that she was not yet ready to examine.
"You should rest," he said.
The words carried neither instruction nor expectation. Only concern.
Eira nodded.
"Tomorrow."
Something in his expression suggested he understood exactly what she meant. Tomorrow she would decide.
He inclined his head.
"Then rest."
Without waiting for anything more, he turned and crossed the room. At the door he paused, his hand resting briefly against the wood.
"Eira."
She looked up.
For a moment he seemed about to say something else. Instead, he simply said,
"Good night."
A faint smile touched her lips.
"Good night, Soren."
The door closed quietly behind him.
Eira listened to his footsteps fade into the corridor before settling back against the pillows.
The following morning dawned clear and cold.
By the time Eira climbed the last narrow steps of the western tower, the sun had already risen above the eastern peaks, washing the mountains in pale gold.
She found Soren exactly where she had expected, standing alone as the wind tugged lightly at his cloak while he looked out over Ironfang.
From here the fortress seemed smaller than it ever did from within its walls, with the training yards below like carved stone terraces, smoke rising from chimneys, and tiny figures moving through the courtyards as the day began.
Beyond the fortress stretched the valley, beyond the valley the mountains, and beyond them the world.
Soren heard her approach but did not turn immediately, and for a moment they stood side by side in silence before he said,
"You shouldn't be climbing stairs yet."
Eira looked at him.
"Good morning to you too."
Something suspiciously close to amusement flickered across his face before disappearing.
The silence that followed felt different from the one they had shared the previous evening, lighter and less fragile.
At length Eira rested her hands on the stone parapet.
"I've made my decision."
Beside her, Soren became very still; his expression did not change, though only someone who knew him would have noticed, and Eira did.
"I won't return to Frostvein."
His gaze remained fixed on the valley below.
"I see."
"I won't become Alpha."
This time he looked at her, not questioning, simply listening.
"Frostvein deserves someone who wants that responsibility."
Her eyes drifted toward the distant mountains.
"I don't."
The words felt strangely easy once spoken aloud, not because the choice was simple, but because it was honest.