Aviva
Moonlight ghosts over my skin as I stand at the highest point of the valley that overlooks Silverhide. Wind whispers through my fur, and my keen eyes scan the valley below for movement before I move along the narrow rocks, careful of the steep drop-offs hidden in the shadows. The stars are out in full overhead, bright and wild against ribbons of deep, swirling purple.
It’s a perfect night. The kind of night I always longed for after days of rain and clouds. But I’ve realized why Ryan and his men came to Endova to join the spring hunt and get their fill of deer in a single night. The valley of Silverhide is empty, save for small critters like rabbits. I won’t be bringing home a deer tonight, not if I stay within the valley like I promised.
But it feels good to be out in the wild after a very long day of village chores. All of the wool we sheared and washed this morning is hanging to dry so we can brush it out and spin it into yarn tomorrow. Freya offered to teach some of the women in the village how to weave using the loom Andrew started building for her within hours of our arrival in the village several days ago. He should have it finished by tomorrow night. At least, that’s what Freya told me over dinner tonight, her cheeks stained with a blush.
My heart aches at my friend's turmoil over her desperate crush on Andrew, which I find a bit hilarious, because he’s obviously head over heels for her.
I edge down the mountain, taking my time, adjusting to the new fit of the bow and quiver against my back.
I reach what I really came here for, the hot springs. I shift back into my human form and shed my knife belt and the harness keeping the bow in place and jump into the big pool, gasping at the hot bite of the water. Heat instantly numbs my skin as I swim to the side, staying close to the falls so the water isn’t blindingly hot, and proceed to just… float. Alone and content.
I haven’t gotten past it, though. I’m absolutely pissed that Ryan made me stay in Silverhide while we went back to Endova. Thankfully, today was so busy that the hours felt like minutes, and before I knew it, night fell, and everyone went to sleep, which meant I could rage in privacy.
I went through all of Ryan’s things again, moving them around. I took all of his socks out of the second drawer in his dresser where he keeps them and took the pairs apart, matching them with socks that were a different color, a different feel, before putting them back again. I dragged the blanket he’d been sleeping with at night over the floor in every room, and even out on the deck, before tossing it in a ball on the couch.
Petty, I know. But he left me here, and I’ve never been alone before.
The water works its way into my muscles and relieves some of the tension in my body. I start to feel the effects of the water and the fatigue of a long, hard day. My head starts to nod as I cross my arms over the edge of the pool, resting my cheek against my skin.
I’ll wash his blanket tomorrow. I’ll rematch his socks. I’ll put his little trinkets back where I found them. Tomorrow. I’ll do it tomorrow before he comes home.
Because he’s supposed to come tomorrow, not that I care when he gets here.
I groan as I pinch my eyes shut. I missed his stupid little comments all day. I missed how he looks at me, that little flex of his jaw. I missed him, and I shouldn’t be feeling like my world is crumbling apart just because he’s gone. Am I missing something? Does everyone feel this way when they’re hand-fasted?
A pain like I’ve never felt before rips through my chest so hard that I jerk and gasp. I choke on my own breath, fighting to get air back into my lungs. Frantically, I let go of the edge of the pool and tread water, running a hand over my bare chest. It feels like someone stabbed me, or punched me so hard they broke all of my ribs, but the pain passes nearly as quickly as it came.
I haul myself out of the water, still gasping for breath as my muscles go rigid with echoes of what I can only describe as pain. I turn my head toward the overhanging rock that overlooks the massive, sweeping view of not only the valley by the plains beyond, all the way to the forest that hugs Endova far in the distance.
I’m imagining Ryan’s voice rasping my name right now. It drifts over me, whispered by the wind, making all the fine, down hair on my body stand on end. I feel the sudden urge to run to wherever he is, but bury the feeling, and rise, shifting, and start heading home.
* * *
Ryan
“You’re okay,” I tell the trio of young women tied together around a tree as I slice through the rope. “You’re okay.” They’re all in tears, their faces washed in terror as I pull the rope free and notice the raw skin on their arms and wrists where they’d been rubbing against the rope for over two hours now, trying to loosen it. I look around the clear, at the bloodshed and shattered bodies. “Where are the other two?”
“Here,” Jacob says gruffly, carrying one young woman in his arms while another walks beside him. I recognize the one that’s walking, and another who was tied to the tree. They’re the only ones with murderous looks in their eyes instead of terror–Aviva’s companions. These women had joined the men on the spring hunt.
Several Endovian warriors walk up to us, whispering to the women in low, comforting tones as they gather them up and start herding them out of the clearing. Jacob passes the woman he’s carrying to one of the warriors at the same moment a bellow of pain and frustration echoes toward us through the woods.
The fighting isn’t over. We stormed their camp twenty minutes ago, surprising the Navvan warriors who’d set up camp a few miles from Endova, likely in preparation to attack again at daylight. We’d pushed them into the woods where they scattered, using the thickly wooded forest to their advantage as the Endova forces swept through them.
“Come on,” I say to Jacob, picking up a random Navvan blade lying on the ground next to one of the bodies.
The wound on my back is in rough shape. I haven’t been able to shift. I’m not about to bust it open and make it any worse while actively engaged in combat. Unlike not only the Endovian and Navvan people, however, I was trained in hand to hand combat from a young age, as was Jacob. That’s what warrior training was all about back in Crescent Falls, being able to defend yourself in both forms, as well as perform offensively.
Jacob shifts and stalks into the woods with me right behind him, and soon, we find the active battle taking place. Wolves and men dart between the trees. The air smells like copper–the metallic tang of blood–as the first Navvan warrior makes a move toward us. Jacob lunges, taking the man down at the knees. I finish him off with the blade.
It goes on like this for some time. I’m coated in blood and dirt by the time we reach the center of the battle. Hunter weaves between the trees in his wolf form, chasing several Navvan warriors.
We group up with a few Endovian men and a few of their wolves, standing back to back as the Navvan men charge us from the trees.
“Keep at least two alive,” I snarl, looking toward the trees, into the darkness where all I can see is eyes looking back at me. “I want the Alpha of Navvan to know what happened here and what’s to come if he steps a single foot outside of his territory.”
We charge forward, meeting the Navvan warriors halfway, and all hell breaks loose.
I slash my way through the fray. Claws rip over my skin. Teeth leave punctures on my arms and legs, but I stay standing, stay moving forward, cutting my way toward one man in particular who seems to be shouting orders to the other Navvan men.
He’s tall, with dirty brown hair and wild eyes full of vengeance. He doesn’t give off the Alpha vibe, though, not entirely. I’m certain, without knowing anything about this man, that he’s not Hardan.
His eyes meet mine, and he smiles wickedly before screaming so loud it echoes over the chaos behind me, and then he runs toward me, still in his human form, twin blades drawn.
We collide. My mind goes blank, my senses focused on this one man, this one fight. He’s a commander of sorts. If he goes down, his men will fall into disarray, and we’ve won.
I block his strikes, our forearms clashing as I knock one of his blades from his hand and twist his arm until it pops out of his shoulder socket. He falls to his knees with a sharp grunt of pain, and then I’m behind him, forcing him onto his stomach with my blade pressed against his throat and my free hand tangled in his hair, pulling violently.
“Fuck you,” he snarls.
I dig my knee into his spine, and he hisses out a breath, chuckling darkly.
“Is something funny?”
He spits blood. I dig my blade a little deeper into his neck.
“Are you Hardan?”
“No. You wouldn’t be talking if you’d already met him. Your head would be so far from your body–ahh!” My blade digs into his throat enough to draw blood.
“What does he want?” I already know the answer. All of this is because Jerrod refused to give him Aviva.
“That bitch belongs to him.”
My blade draws more blood, and he goes still, taking several panicked breaths. Behind me, the battle continues, but right now, it feels like this stranger and me are the only people in this blood-soaked clearing.
“I should cut out your tongue for talking about my wife that way,” I seethe, yanking on his hair until his head is nearly bent backward.
“That fucking whore is Hardan’s mate. She belongs to him.”
My heart stops beating. I don’t even feel the arrow pierce my back from behind. I don’t feel it exit through my chest and lodge into the base of the man’s neck, killing him instantly.
“RYAN!” Jacob screams as I fall forward, my vision going completely black before I can process what’s happening.
I see her then in vivid color, smiling as she looks up at me in the hazy starlight of the ruined temple, those silly shells clinking together in her hair. I wanted to reach out and touch her then, to run my fingers through her wild, unruly hair, just to know what it felt like. I say her name, not realizing it’s the last words that will ever leave my lips.
Noise explodes through my ears. Jacob screaming my name. Feet moving in on me. The warm, soft touch of small hands ripping my shirt from my skin.
I should be dead, but I’m not. So I should be able to feel my body, but I can’t. I’m numb. Totally, completely numb, trapped in my head as darkness swells around me.
“It was a silver arrow coated in wolfsbane. There’s not much we can do.”