POV: Adeline
The visiting delegation was leaving at dawn.
I stood at the territory's edge, watching wolves pack supplies and say their goodbyes. It had been a good visit—trade agreements established, alliances strengthened, knowledge shared. Everything a diplomatic visit should be.
Except Freya was going with them.
She stood beside their Beta, a wolf named Marcus who'd arrived two weeks ago with his Alpha's delegation. They'd spent those two weeks circling each other—tentative, curious, undeniably drawn. I'd watched it happen. Watched my best friend fall.
The mate bond. Finally. After all these years of waiting.
Freya caught my eye across the clearing and walked over, her pack already secured on her back. Ready to go. Ready to leave.
My throat tightened.
"It's just for a month," she said quickly, reading my face. "To see. To know. To figure out if this is real or just—"
"It's real," I interrupted gently. "I can see it. You glow when you look at him."
She laughed, but there was nervousness underneath. "I glow. Sure. That's very dignified."
"Freya."
She stopped, met my eyes. Serious now.
"I know," she said softly. "I know what this is. I just need to be sure. Need to see his territory. Meet his pack. Make sure it's not just proximity and possibility and—"
"I know," I said.
And I did. The mate bond was rare enough without complicating it with territory politics and pack dynamics and all the practical concerns that came with being wolves with responsibilities. Freya needed to see if the connection would survive reality. If Marcus's pack would accept her. If she could build a life there or if he'd come here.
I understood all of it.
Understanding didn't make it hurt less.
We stood there for a moment, just looking at each other. Best friends. Sisters in everything but blood. We'd survived Ronan's attack together. Rebuilt Willow Ridge together. Found our way through grief and healing and into hope together.
Then Freya stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me. I hugged her back—long, tight, holding on like she might disappear if I let go.
"If he hurts you—" I started.
"You'll kill him, yes, I know." She laughed against my shoulder. "You've told me three times already."
"I'm serious."
"I know you are. That's why I love you."
I squeezed tighter, breathing in the familiar scent of pine and smoke that clung to her. How many nights had we sat together? How many conversations over coffee and combat training and quiet moments when words weren't necessary?
Freya had been the first wolf at Willow Ridge to really see me. To look past the rejections and the trauma and the defensive walls I'd built so high. She'd forced her way into friendship with stubborn persistence until I had no choice but to let her in.
And now she was leaving.
Temporary, I reminded myself. Just a month. To explore this connection. To see if it could become something permanent.
"I'm so happy for you," I whispered into her hair. "You deserve this."
She pulled back just enough to look at me, her eyes suspiciously bright. "So did you. Look how that turned out."
I glanced over at Aiden, standing with the visiting Alpha, finalizing last-minute details. My mate. My partner. My home.
"Yeah," I said softly. "Look how that turned out."
Freya's smile was watery but genuine. "If I'd told myself a year ago that we'd both be here—you mated to Aiden, me leaving to explore a mate bond with a wolf from another pack—I wouldn't have believed it."
"A year ago we were preparing for war."
"Exactly." She gripped my arms. "And now we're preparing for love. That's growth, Adeline. That's what we fought for."
Marcus called out—gentle but clear. They needed to leave soon to make good time before nightfall.
Freya squeezed my arms once more, then let go. "I'll be back. One month. And if it doesn't work out—"
"It will," I said with certainty I didn't entirely feel. Not because I doubted the bond, but because a month felt impossibly long.
"But if it doesn't," she continued, "I'm still coming back. This is home. You're home. That doesn't change."
"Damn right it doesn't."
She grinned—my Freya, sarcastic and warm and impossibly brave. "Look at us. Both so tough. Both about to cry."
"I'm not crying."
"Your eyes are wet."
"Allergies."
"Sure." She wiped at her own eyes. "Mine too."
We laughed, the sound breaking some of the tension. Then Freya turned toward Marcus, and I saw her face transform. The nervousness fell away. She looked excited. Hopeful. Already looking forward.
She needed this. Needed to explore what the Moon Spirit had given her. Needed to see if this connection could become the kind of love Aiden and I had found.
I'd spent so long running that I'd forgotten what it looked like when someone ran toward something instead of away. But that's what Freya was doing. Running toward possibility. Toward hope. Toward a future that might include a mate who looked at her like she hung the moon.
She deserved that. More than anyone I knew.
"One month," she called back as she walked toward the delegation.
"One month," I agreed.
Marcus greeted her with a smile that was soft and genuine. They stood close—not touching yet, still careful, but the pull between them was visible. The mate bond humming with potential.
The delegation began to move out, wolves falling into formation. Freya waved once more, her smile bright despite the tears in her eyes. Then they were moving, heading east toward Marcus's territory.
I watched until they disappeared into the trees.
Aiden appeared beside me, his presence solid and comforting. "She'll be back."
"I know."
"She needed to go."
"I know that too."
He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. "Growth requires movement. She taught you that, didn't she?"
I thought about it. About how Freya had pushed me to open up, to trust, to let people in. How she'd refused to let me stay isolated even when isolation felt safer. How she'd forced me to grow by being relentlessly, stubbornly present.
"Yeah," I said. "She did."
We stood there together, watching the empty path where Freya had disappeared. The morning sun climbed higher, burning off the mist. Birds sang. The forest breathed. Life continued.
A month. She'd be gone for a month.
It felt impossibly long. But I'd survived worse. We both had.
And when she came back—whether the bond had worked out or not—we'd still be sisters. Still be best friends. Still be the wolves who'd fought side by side and rebuilt a territory from ashes.
Some things didn't change, no matter the distance.
"Come on," Aiden said gently. "Let's go home."
Home. Willow Ridge. The territory we'd defended and rebuilt and made whole again.
Freya would be back. One month. And in the meantime, we had a pack to lead. A territory to maintain. A life to keep building.
Growth required movement. Freya was moving toward her future.
And I was finally strong enough to let her go.