Chapter 73
Lessons for Tomorrow
The Historian
Kaida
I stop talking. The sun is coming up, and my throat is dry and sore, and I feel wrung out. Will shudders. Cora is openly weeping, and Valerie and Henni have their arms around each other, little sobs escaping them.
I smile weakly and commit to finishing the story.
“They ran like they’d done it a million times.
A white wolf with strange grey eyes’ people say she looked moon touched.
A red wolf with a smile and flickers of flames in his coat, and two massive blacks, one with eyes that burn red, leaving a trail of ice behind him, and the other with eyes of icy blue that when he howled had the animals of the forest running in terror.
A pack so fearsome that it couldn’t possibly be of this world. ”
The silence is thick, and I reach up to press my hand to my necklace, a carved wolf made of bone.
“Their lives were the happiest, sometimes painful, but mostly, they lived in the joy of each other and their family. They loved, had children, and spent every moment together, and when they passed from this world, they knew that they would find each other again in the next. When they are needed, they will answer the call, but death isn’t forever.
It’s not goodbye, just see you for now. Their pack bonds are too strong; they defy war, gods, and time itself. ”
I lean forward, smiling at these brand new wolves who are about to embark into the world, this next generation who will become the caretakers of our society.
“They will always be here protecting us. The gift the gods sent to help us in times of strife, to save us when we need to be saved. The gods who recreated the world and gave us our wolves. You must not forget this story; you must carry it like a lodestone, put it in a part of you and remember what happens when you let evil advance. Remember who fought for you; never forget their names.”
“But did they really send them?” Valerie asks, flicking her red hair over her shoulder. She’s a dead ringer for an omega I used to know, one who died in the arms of her lover. “I mean, that’s a terrible story. It can’t be true. I mean, if that were the case…”
“Yes, exactly. Try to imagine how it must have been like to be one of the last omegas. An alpha watching his family be slaughtered. Try to imagine the fear and distrust people had of each other. And imagine how hard it would be to have so little choice that you would gladly die for the chance, just a chance, that someone could change things.”
They stare at me silently.
“Now, go. The world awaits you. Come in peace and leave kindness and goodwill behind you. Respect the paths others walk and never turn a blind eye to evil deeds.”
A couple of them shift into wolves and shake off the stress, running out into the dawn, while others leave on two legs, shaken and scared. The story will fade in their minds. Tomorrow, they will convince themselves I exaggerated it and it wasn’t that bad.
The fire is mostly ash now, and the last star fades, leaving me sitting alone in my chair, wrapped in the bitter notes of the story.
“Yes, the gods really dared to send them,” I say softly, answering the now-gone Valerie. “They just had no idea what they’d done.”
“Keres, the infamous omega herself, I have heard many rumours of your skill, kindness, and wisdom, but no one has ever mentioned how beautiful you are.”
I snicker at the echo from the past and watch my alpha slink out from behind a tree, out of the corner of my eye. He’s still as handsome as the day I first saw him, maybe more so. He has aged well, like a fine wine, but his smile is still just as captivating.
“Alpha,” I purr.
“Are you finished telling stories?”
My other alphas appear, one with red eyes, and one with icy blue eyes.
I might be nearing sixty now, but these alphas still love me just the same as the day we met, and I love them more.
“I’m finished,” I murmur.
Mordecai holds out his hand; I take it without hesitation. “Animals do not run from me,” he mutters.
I laugh, but he pulls me in and glares at me before kissing me until I get butterflies in my stomach.
“And Jarek wishes he had flames in his fur.”
“I do so have flames. I’m cool,” Jarek laughs and kisses my temple. “I missed you, sweetheart.”
Cadel snorts a laugh and blows me a kiss before turning to Jarek, teasing him. “I’ll freeze you with my winter blast.”
I roll my eyes. “Are you three going to do this every time I tell the story?”
“Yup!” they say together.
A lifetime to live, to heal, to love. Every moment cherished. A brilliant, wonderful, ordinary life.
My face softens as I watch my three alphas joke and tease each other as they escort me home. Mordecai has hold of my hand, bringing me home, where our son and his daughter are waiting.
No one knows those gods that gave up their godhoods, that sacrificed their worlds lives right here in this village.
I tell these stories about lives long gone, but they aren’t stories; they are my memories.
I live among them, watching over them, waiting, protecting, and listening with no one the wiser.
But that’s as it should be.
We are the fallen gods, the Anarchy Wolves.
And we live.