Brie
I wake in the early hours of the morning to soft sunlight brushing over my cheeks. I’m sure I cried myself to sleep last night. I forgot where I was, but only briefly, reality rushing in, reminding me that I made it to Emberfyll alone.
I roll in the furs, letting the warm, morning sunlight play over my face, but then I hear a commotion coming from outside.
Yips and barks dance through the air. I rise, clutching the windowsill for support as I squint into the sun and see a dozen wolves racing through the flattened, charred space that used to be the front garden. Smoke rises in the forest from chimneys, the villagers waking for the day, but I can’t see past the trees and their thick summer canopies.
The wolves are racing into the forest.
I whirl to heavy footsteps running into the room I was given to use as my own last night. Seamus braces himself in the doorway, panting like he ran all the way here from the depths of the castle. I wait for him to tell me we’re under attack, or something, but when he lifts his head, he’s smiling. It’s a smile I find so familiar.
My chest tightens as the air leaves my lungs in a whoosh. “You found them?”
He nods, that smile widening, and extends his hand. “Come with me.”
I grab his hand, and then we’re racing out of the castle. He found me sandals to wear last night but they’re slightly too big and hamper my progress as I race after him through the garden.
Just as we reach the tree line, I stop. Logan’s mark on my chest tingles as my excitement builds, but my intrusive thoughts steal whatever relief I feel.
What if it’s not them? What if they’re hurt?
The wolves trickle out of the forest, leaping and hopping, spinning in excited, wolfish circles as their barks and yips cut through the sound of the breeze rustling the trees overhead.
Two shadows move through the forest. My heart quakes when Maeve’s face comes into view–pale and gray–but otherwise, she’s alive, and leaning on Logan for support. I catch my breath in one smooth inhale and run to them. Logan’s expression–stern and serious–shatters into a look of sheer relief as I leap into his arms. His embrace closes around me, tugging me tight, his face buried in my hair.
I flail my arm for Maeve and catch her shoulder, dragging her between us, where our reunion is nothing more than muffled, delirious sobs and the occasional broken laugh of disbelief.
“You did it,” I tell my sister, pressing a rough kiss to her forehead. “Oh, my Goddess, Maeve, you did it. You clever witch!”
She’s panting weakly, but her watery smile settles in my heart. I can see how weak she is. She’s cold to the touch but upright, which is a good sign. It could take days for her powers to return, but we have time.
We made it.
We’re in Emberfyll.
Logan is home.
I notice he has gone very still, however. I’m aware we’re being watched. I’m acutely aware of the dozens of sets of eyes from the people creeping through the woods, everyone watching us, watching him, their king.
But Logan is looking over the top of my head at the man who saved me from the beach, who brought me into his home and fed me, kept me warm.
A man, I realize, that Logan remembers.
Logan’s eyes are watering, but he refuses to shed any tears. A very manly thing, I suppose, even in the face of a complete undoing of what he thought to be true.
He told me once that he didn’t think there was anyone alive here. That his pack left on boats, having no other options, no other choices. They left to try to save their lives… and he was the only survivor.
Now, we both know that’s not true.
I slowly unravel my hands from around his waist, stepping to the side to steady Maeve instead. I watch as Logan takes two cautious steps toward Seamus, like he can’t believe he’s really there, like all of this is just some dream.
Seamus opens his mouth, but words fail him. Logan just stares, unable to speak. All around us, the remains of the pack watch Logan. I wonder what they’re thinking. I wonder if they recognize the boy within the man he is today.
Seamus sees that boy, though. He shakes his head, grunting as he swallows past a sob and nods several times, saying, “It’s about damn time you showed up, kid.”
The ice shatters, and Logan and Seamus embrace, both of them laughing in disbelief and utter joy, maybe a slice of heartache.
The next several minutes are a whirlwind of activity. Seamus quickly, and without fanfare, ushers us back into the castle, keeping his hand on Logan’s arm like he’s afraid he will disappear again if they’re not touching. Two warriors help me take Maeve into the room I slept in last night, where I tuck her into the furs and sit beside her, encouraging her to drink hot tea laced with fresh, creamy milk until her eyelids begin to flutter, and she falls into a deep sleep. Only when I feel like Maeve can be left alone do I leave the room and pick my way through the castle, trying to imagine what these toppled hallways used to look like before the castle was nearly destroyed, burned, and then taken back over by nature.
I find Logan and Seamus on the bottom floor in a wide room where one of the walls has caved in completely, giving a full view of the sea beyond. The storm that was raging in the distance is gone, replaced by calm, sparkling water and a scattered group of small fishing boats that hug the shore, shadowed figures moving across the decks.
Logan rises from a stool when I enter the room. I take his hand, letting him crush me to his chest. He takes a deep, restorative breath, murmuring into my hair, “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Are you?”
“I’m okay.”
I nod, holding his gaze as I trace his jawline with my fingertips.
He turns to Seamus. “Thank you for taking care of her in my absence. I’m indebted to you.”
“No, you’re not,” Seamus laughs from his perch on a pile of rubble covered in moss and creeping vines. He sips from a mug of what smells like tea. “She’s our Luna. A pile of furs and a plate of food was all we had to offer.”
I pull away from Logan, swallowing hard and moving in Seamus’s direction, but stop several feet away. “I told you yesterday that my family is sending a fleet of ships here, and that’s true. They will not harm you, and in fact, will be able to offer aid. We didn’t know what we’d find here. Logan wasn’t sure if anything was left, honestly. Do you know your exact numbers?”
Logan sinks back onto the stool in silence while Seamus thinks about my question for a moment. “Roughly eighty. There’re a few children in the villages, but no more than four or five. It’s hard keeping the young ones alive.”
It’s like a knife to my heart. I glance at Logan, seeing the guilt flaring behind his eyes. These are his people, and they’ve been suffering, starving, for two decades.
“Can you gather everyone together tonight for a meeting? Everyone–every man, woman, and child? They need to be aware that in a few weeks, boats will be landing on the shore. Friends, not enemies.”
“Your people can’t pass through the veil–”
“My sister,” I cut in, pointing at the gaping holes in the ceiling, “She’s resting now, but with some food and a few days to recover her power, she’ll be able to break the veil. Completely, actually. It’ll be gone, and Emberfyll will join what we call the Allied Kingdoms. Logan will take his title as Alpha King, and your people will be under the protection and unity of my family.” I glance at Logan, hoping that he agrees with what I’m saying. I might be the Luna, but he ranks higher than me, technically. He spent his entire life training just to make it here, not to be the Alpha.
I spent my entire life training to be a Luna.
I know exactly what to do and how to help these people.
I begin to pace, tucking my hands behind my back, but he can’t answer the questions I have, not until we know the whole story of what happened here. I look at my mate, sending him a quiet command to ask the questions he has before I bulldoze through the conversation with my own inquiries and start planning how to make this war-torn kingdom our new home.
But Seamus beats him to it. “After you left, the fire burned through everything. I’m sure you remember watching the flames from the south creep closer to our forest.” Logan nods solemnly but stays silent, even as Seamus turns his attention to me. “The King of the South wasn’t really a king. He’d been feuding with Logan’s father long before Logan’s birth. When Logan was born, his uncle saw his birth–the birth of a son, a future Alpha King–as a threat–and broke from the royal pack of Emberfyll, starting his own in the south, and immediately declared war. It was bloody and brutal that first year. We had a hard winter, but the battles kept going. Years passed like that–nothing but war. It ruined our farmlands, our forests, our rivers. Bodies polluted the water, and sickness began to spread during the seventh year of what ended up being a twelve year war. It started in the south, killing everything in its path. By the time it reached us, Logan was ten and had only known hardship, chaos.” He licks his lips, shaking his head. “The fire was meant to eradicate the sickness in the south. We didn’t start it, but after years of draught and dry, hostile winters drying out what was left of the forests and farmlands, it burned through everything, burned uncontrollably, fueled by whatever magic started it.”
“It was a spell?” I ask.
Seamus purses his lips. “It was a curse.”
He goes on to explain the decision to leave Emberfyll, and my heart sinks with every passing minute as I watch Logan relieve memories I think he would have preferred to forget.
“Some of us stayed behind to make sure they weren’t followed, the boats, but there wasn’t anyone left to follow them out into open water at that point. About a year after Logan and his parents–our Alpha King and Luna–left, some of us, the strongest, those able to withstand the journey, traveled into the southern lands and didn’t find a single survivor. The madman who started the war was dead in his own bed, nothing but mummified skin and bone. He died from the curse he created, we think. And so we… we’ve done the best we could to survive. The past few years have been bountiful. The animals have been returning, as well as the fish. The forest is waking up, and things are growing again. We took that as a sign that maybe he’d–he’d be returning soon, and we were right.” He looks at Logan. “The king has returned at last.”
Logan nods, but I can tell something is weighing on him. I know it’s guilt, for not returning sooner.
But he couldn’t have, not without dying trying to cross the veil.
With the story concluded, I take a deep breath and become the diplomat these people need.
“So,” I say to both Logan and Seamus, “you’ve been leading these people all these years. You are our Beta now, Seamus. Tell us what we can do to help.”