"Run. Run as fast as you can!"Freya's voice echoed through her mind as the vision consumed her. Warriors in black and gold uniforms were torn apart by claws and teeth. Blood soaked the earth, staining it crimson under the moonlight. Wolves howled in agony as flames engulfed the trees around them."Help me!" A voice screamed—a young boy’s voice.Freya jolted awake, gasping for air. She clutched her chest as her heart raced wildly. It wasn’t just a nightmare. She knew better now. It was a vision.
The door to her room burst open, and Gray stood there, his eyes sharp and alert. “What happened?”
Freya shook her head, unable to find her voice.
“Freya,” he said, stepping closer. “You were screaming. Tell me what you saw.”
Her breath came in short bursts as she forced herself to speak. “There’s going to be a battle. Blood... so much blood. Your pack—”
Gray’s jaw tightened. “What did you see exactly?”
Freya pressed her hands to her temples, trying to recall the details. “Wolves… they wore black and gold. They tore through your warriors like they were nothing. And there was fire—fire everywhere. Your pack was… it was annihilated.”
Gray’s expression darkened, but he didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he crossed his arms and studied her intently.
“Are you sure?”
Freya's eyes snapped to his. “Of course I’m sure! Why would I lie about something like this?”
“I didn’t say you were lying,” Gray replied evenly. “It's just the prediction….
“It’s not a prediction—it’s going to happen!” Freya shot back.
Gray tilted his head, his lips curving into a smirk. “Then prove it.”
“Prove it?” Freya paced back and forth in the meeting hall, her frustration boiling over. “How exactly am I supposed to prove something that hasn’t happened yet?”
Gray leaned against the table, his gaze steady. “You claim to see the future. Show me something I can believe.”
Freya threw her hands in the air. “I don’t control these visions! They come when they want to. I can’t just summon one for your entertainment.”
“Then what good are you?” Gray asked, his tone sharp.
Freya froze, his words cutting deep. She turned to face him, her voice trembling with anger. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t want to see these things. Do you think I enjoy knowing what’s coming and being powerless to stop it?”
Gray’s expression softened, but only slightly. “No, I don’t think you enjoy it. But if you’re going to be part of this pack, you need to prove you’re not just spouting nonsense.”
“Gray,” Lyra’s voice interrupted from the doorway. She entered the room, her silver hair catching the light as she fixed Freya with a cold glare. “You’re wasting your time. She’s a fraud.”
Freya's fists clenched. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know enough,” Lyra snapped. “Your pack burned to the ground, and now you’re here, spreading fear with your ridiculous visions.”
“That’s enough,” Gray said firmly, stepping between them. “Freya's here under my protection.”
Lyra’s eyes narrowed. “Your protection won’t mean anything if she tears this pack apart from the inside.”
“I’m not your enemy,” Freya said, her voice low but steady.
Lyra let out a bitter laugh. “You’re a walking disaster waiting to happen.”
“Lyra,” Gray warned.
Lyra’s jaw tightened, but she said nothing more. With one last glare at Freya, she turned and left the room.
“Charming,” Freya muttered.
“Don’t mind her,” Gray said, his tone lighter. “She’s just protective of the pack.”
“So I’ve heard,” Freya replied dryly.
Gray studied her for a moment, his amber eyes unreadable. “You said the attackers wore black and gold?”
“Yes,” Freya said, relieved that he was finally taking her seriously. “Do you know who they are?”
Gray’s expression darkened. “There’s a pack in the south—the Shadowfangs. They’ve been moving closer to our borders. If your vision is true, they could be planning something.”
Freya swallowed hard. “You believe me?”
“I believe in being prepared,” Gray said. “Even if I’m not convinced, I can’t afford to ignore a warning like this.”
****
The next morning, Gray summoned Freya to the training grounds. Warriors gathered, their faces tense as they whispered among themselves.
“What’s going on?” Freya asked, approaching Gray.
“We’re testing your vision,” Gray said, his tone brisk.
“How?”
Gray gestured to a group of warriors. “They’re going to stage an attack. You’ll tell me if it matches what you saw.”
Freya's stomach churned. “And if it doesn’t?”
“Then we’ll know if you’re telling the truth,” Gray said simply.
Freya took a deep breath, her palms sweating. The warriors began their mock battle, their movements fierce and calculated.
As she watched, flashes of her vision flickered in her mind—the black and gold uniforms, the blood-soaked ground.
“Stop!” she cried out, her voice ringing across the field.
The warriors froze, startled.
“What is it?” Gray demanded.
Freya pointed to one of the warriors. “Him. He was in my vision. He’s the one who…” Her voice trailed off, the memory too painful to voice.
Gray’s gaze hardened. “You’re sure?”
Freya nodded.
Gray turned to the warrior. “You’re dismissed.”
“But—”
“Now,” Gray said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
The warrior left, his face pale.
Gray turned back to Freya. “You’ve given me something to think about.”
Freya stared at him, her heart pounding. For the first time, she felt a flicker of hope that her gift might finally be used for something good.