Chapter 1 #2
"It won't work on Mythic’s. Your true power lies with the pack.
The more members in your pack, the stronger the Luna.
The stronger the Luna, the stronger the gifts.
" Diaval stops talking and looks over at Easton.
"We have a long trip ahead of us. There are several towns we'll pass through on our way to Blackmore. "
Easton motions to Diaval, who pulls a different map out and passes it back.
Scooting back, I take the map and spread it across my lap, studying it closely.
To the far north, there's snow as far as the eye can see—an endless expanse of white marked only by the thin lines of rivers and the dots of settlements.
Before the tundra, jagged mountains rise like teeth against the sky, with a Mordor-style spire sticking up in the middle, dark and foreboding.
"That's where my people come from." Khal points to the horizon, to what looks more like mountains of death than a fun place to grow up. His voice carries a hint of something—nostalgia? Dread? Both?
"It doesn't look like a fun place to visit." I wince, saying my thoughts out loud.
"Definitely not. Unfortunately, there's only one way to get to the route we need, and that's passing through Norburg.
Norburg is a town of thugs and venomous inhabitants.
" Khal looks up at Easton, his expression hardening.
"If we don't have to stop, let's not. It wouldn't be safe for Feray.
" The way Khal says that—like he's seen things there, like he knows exactly what kind of danger lurks in those streets—makes a whine escape my lips before I can stop it.
Easton's eyes whip up to look at me in the rearview mirror, concern flashing across his features. "Noted. We'll pass through and nothing more unless we need fuel," Diaval says, then looks back at us. His expression softens almost imperceptibly. "Have you seen the ocean, Feray?"
"What difference does that make?" I tilt my head, puzzled by his question.
"Just answer the question and don't be as infuriating as your sister." Diaval's tone turns to rich honey, and I feel like I'm falling under a spell, bewitched by him.
"I've never left Briarvale." I draw in an exaggerated breath and look down at my hands, playing with the hem of my shirt.
The admission feels like a confession of something shameful.
"Fi said it wasn't safe. We've always suspected our parents' deaths weren't an accident.
So I've never been much of anywhere." I bite my bottom lip and turn to fidget with a fuzzy on Torben's shirt to distract myself from the sudden sting behind my eyes.
"Then it's settled. We'll cut through Norburg and head toward Vasserdell.
It's a village on the coast. I want you to see the ocean.
" The finality in Diaval's voice almost makes me nervous.
But in another sense, butterflies flutter in my stomach.
He wants to take me to the ocean for the first time.
My grumpy dragon wants to give me the sea.
"Do you have questions about the packs, Feray?
" Diaval turns back to face forward, but I can see the slight curve of his lips in the side mirror.
"If I'm a natural-born Luna, is there anyone I bow to?" Not being raised in a pack has its disadvantages. I feel like a child asking obvious questions.
"The other wolves will try to force their dominance on you.
Now, your human side is soft and gentle.
But your wolf—she will not tolerate someone less than herself trying to dominate her.
If it's a challenge of wills, let her take the wheel and do what's needed.
" Diaval's statement makes me sit up and turn to Torben.
"What he means is your wolf knows what's needed to keep you safe. So when she fights you for control, let her have it. Just like with my bear—if the situation gets dangerous, I give myself over to him." Torben presses a kiss to my forehead, his beard soft against my skin.
"So if she doesn't like something, or someone is trying to force us to do something, let her have control?" I tilt my head, looking at Torben, then to the rearview mirror to meet Easton's eyes.
"For the most part, yes," Diaval answers.
"Within reason, of course." He turns in his seat to look at me, and I watch his eyes become his dragon's for the briefest of moments—vertical pupils in pools of molten gold.
I nod at him, then snuggle back against Torben.
I'm so used to Fi handling all the trouble that I'm not sure I can do it.
Then again, she started some of the trouble sometimes.
A mix of excitement and trepidation boils within me.
I'm an emotional paradox. As much as I want to know who I am, I'm afraid of being away from Fi.
Pulling my arms close to my body, I press my forehead against Torben's neck, using his beard to hide me from the world.
Diaval was smart, putting my two bonded mates back here with me.
Their presence soothes me—Torben's warmth, Khal's cool touch on my feet, the steady rhythm of their breathing.
Yet knowing the mythics in the front are also mine is a comfort in itself.
They will burn the earth to ash to protect me.
At least, that's what my wolf tells me.
And for the first time, I believe her.