In these brief moments, I feel like myself again. Warm and alive, it's as if the world hesitates its chaos and allows us to take a much-needed breath. However, this evening, sleep does not find me so peacefully, and the fuzz of invaders chips away at the edges of the murky visions. 

These are dreams I'd seen before, stuck on replay as my mind is occupied by attempts to escape the pull of another realm. 

When I open my eyes, I see darkness while my body feels almost weightless. Panic is slow to set in; sitting up reveals that I'm in the vacancy of purgatory. Life had been too unpredictable not to expect a visit from my father, and truthfully, I welcomed the intrusion given our limited timeline.

 Rubbing my eye with the back of my hand, I attempt to stifle the yawn. "Tata, you really could have allowed me to get some sleep-" my voice fades off in the echo of the abyss as I see the white creature standing before me, beside him, the slightly smaller gray beast. 

In the darkness, the bright white coat almost appears luminescent. It shimmers and sways in some breeze that I can't feel, for there are no elements in purgatory. 

"Seems you've decided to make yourself known. Sick of hiding?" My patience for this being was dwindling by the moment. While I knew better than to disrespect a god, my bitter tongue knew no limit.

The white wolf's ears lay flat back against his skull, and the rumbling echo builds into a deep burn of resentment. "How dare you accuse me of using magic?"

The offense startles me as I climb to my feet, brushing off my clothes from the imaginary dust. The atmosphere feels heavy despite my buoyancy, and as my eyes drift, I can see that this realm is weakening. 

It's unhealthy, no longer rich in its darkness but dull in its fading light. "You are magic." I allow, receiving a bark in retaliation. With Alpha here, I am not afraid of the white spirit.

"Do not insult me, boy!" He snarls, coat bristling. "I am a god amongst mortals, I'm no mere trick. You, more than anyone, know the immense offense taken by accusing one of my kind of using something as vile as mind-reading. My vessel is bonded to you; we sense your emotions just as we sense those in our own pack. You're unworthy of such loyalty if you think it's a mere farce, such as mind-reading. It's a damn gift, is what it is."

I had almost forgotten the heavy bigotry of lycans toward magic suggestions. Verando had come quite far in his tolerance; it would seem that his ancestor had not reached such conclusions. "It was merely a suggestion. You don't have to get so upset. How else do you explain why I feel better when I'm around Verando? You are leeching off of me, aren't you? Are you trying to get out again? That's why you're talking to me now?" 

The chin of the snowy creature lowers, leveling his eyes with mine as he searches my face. 

My accusations hurt him, wounding that sensitive emotional state. 

"I am trying to protect you. I'm not leaching off of you, as you say, I'm preventing it from happening. It's quite exhausting, actually." 

This catches me off guard. Alpha crosses the short distance and bumps his head into my hand; in this realm, he was closer to the size of a normal wolf. I stroke my fingers through the soft coat with some reassurance to the wolf that it's not him I'm upset with. 

"This quest is taking far too long; we are all getting weaker. You should have made more progress." 

Calling it a quest made it seem so innocent. I could not argue that I felt increasingly exhausted, with lack of sleep, I tacked it up to natural causes, but it seemed we were all feeling it. "What are you preventing?" I lower my tone. 

He sighs, the air frosts with his breath, and he tips his muzzle toward the vast, dull sky. 

"We are running out of time." He says softly, taking measure of the ever-shrinking realm. "The unicorn is tied directly to the lifeblood of this planet; there is only one because it is singularly the most powerful beast that exists, as you know. When the earth sent the gods back to the sky, some of us stayed. The earth itself resides in the spirit of that unicorn. It is the representation of life. Fergus, as you know him, is dying."

I clutch Alpha a little closer to me, his cheek pressed against my stomach in a manner that guards me against his ancestor. In the face of destruction, the wolf feels obligated to protect me.

 "He will be reborn. Maybe his death could be the best thing for this cause." As much as I hate to think of Fergus dying, he was immortal, and having him out of Gabriel's hands would be playing right into ours. 

Whitewind frowns, shutting his eyes for a moment as if he wished I were less dull. "When the last drop of magic is drained from the unicorn, his light will burn out. There are no more horses, no more donkeys, in this world. They were all wiped out in preparation for this moment. Fergus is the last unicorn; Fergus is the end of days."

I sink to the floor at this realization, my mind drifting to Silvia and her giggles at my tales of unicorns and horses. She told me that horses aren't real. 

"Fergus is drawing energy off of you because Solomonari used to be nature's advocate. Others should be feeling the strain, but he has a connection to you. You have bought us time, but you are now weakening as well." With a heavy sigh, he lowers his haunches into a sitting position. "Once the unicorn dies-" His voice grows quiet as if he hadn't really given it much thought.

 Did anyone actually know what would happen? 

There were plenty of gods to help maneuver the world through its trials, but with the very essence of the earth dismantled, I stopped myself from completing the thought. "I'm telling you all of this because one of my brothers is to blame. Power corrupts, and evil misguides those who lust for vengeance. I'm forbidden to interfere, but...  from the words of the siren, I have fallen from grace." 

The status of the wolf ceased to have much meaning to me; my life would be much simpler if the celestial being no longer resided in my husband. Falling from grace seemed like a small price to pay for an easier existence. It would appear we were correct in thinking that Gabriel had Fergus and was harnessing his energy. 

"Whitewind, you have to show me where Fergus is." I plead with him, jumping back to my feet. 

The pale beast makes a face, displeased with my lack of tact. "I can not interfere- Nicolas, you know where Fergus is." The world around us crumbles, threatening to collapse. "Unfortunately, my time here has come to an end; I have used the last of what I had to protect you and transfer the power to create to Helen. A moment of weakness, I must admit, I often forget I'm not who I once was." 

My lips parted only for him to silence me with a stern look; it would seem as if I would be getting very few answers, yet I had so many questions.

Taking a deep breath, he straightens his posture, returning to his regal pose. "I will show you where you can go to get guidance." The mist of his breath travels to the sky, and he shows me a dark-skinned man with green eyes. "His name is Lux. While I do not know him personally, I do know he is the vessel of Tyr. With the end of days comes the Viking omen; prophecies will begin to unravel quickly."  

While I appreciated the lead, my desire for even more gods was nonexistent. I didn't need more liability or more headaches coupled with a complex personality. "More celestial beings? Do the gods invade our land whenever they choose? How is this possible? Who is in charge of regulating these creatures?" 

The corners of his lips pulled down heavily. "There is a lot invested in the outcome of this realm; not all gods are good. There is no regulation with the world out of balance, and frankly, the pecking order is in shambles with so many of us trying to get to this plane while the Unicorn is away. He controlled the earth; he kept us at bay. Tyr is not a lycan; he is the god of war. Fenrir, our ancestor, bit off his arm, so there is an unfortunate history between us. But Fenrir and Tyr used to be best friends, so perhaps you could reason with him. He has the influence, just as Verando does. 

Find Lux; he can lead you to allies. Trust me, with my brother's involvement, Tyr will side with us before the others." The wolf flinches, recoiling on himself in the slightest bit as if he were uncomfortable. 

Our world shrinks even more, the edges closing in. I know our time together is limited.

Stealing a glance at Alpha, he looks just as uncertain as I do. "You said you have to go? The other gods, then, are the ones who are taking you away. They want you to stop helping us."

Whitewind considers this for a long moment, watching the gray wolf with almost a sense of dread. "I am merging with this spirit, Alpha, as you call him, so that you and my vessel may keep your life forces. I'm afraid one can only run from his second death for so long. There are other forces stronger than me at play here, and I haven't exactly followed the rules before, and certainly not now. Surrendering to Malka was the final straw for me."

 His large eyes roll over our surroundings, curious about the ever-shrinking space. I came to realize he had been forbidden to give me guidance, yet here he was. He was being punished for what he'd done, but they seemed to feel he was acting in our aid, not out of selfish desire. "Why are you telling me all of this?" 

As he climbs to his feet, his body begins to flicker, like the flame of a candle. The slow approach seems to cause him to burn out, more and more, until his image is a low flame dancing before me. "I'm telling you because, while I think you're a pompous prick, my grandson loves you. Wolves mate for life; it is a burden we all share, strange as it may seem. The promiscuity comes from seeking that connection, and few wolves ever find it. Verando refuses to live without you, and that means your life is in great danger from those seeking to harm him, and, subsequently, me.

My brother's vessel is hunting for you; while Verando might not know the specifics, he can feel it in his being that the race for completion has begun once again. You have until the first of the year; at that time, Fergus's magic will run out." 

Less than a month away. But the words are ominous, a threat that felt familiar to me. "Your brother's vessel?"

"I know you will try your best. Tyr is a god much stronger than I; if you gain his favor, he might separate your life force from my vessel. If that is at all possible, I suggest you do it. You, Nicolas, are what the world needs. I encourage you to let this side go, for your own sake. You can not outrun fate, and the urge to be complete will drive the wolves to hunt for each other."

It was as if he were asking me to trade oxygen for water. I couldn't fathom separating our lives; to live without him wouldn't be to live at all. Yet, as I have the thought, the image of baby Xavier comes foremost to my mind. It wasn't just us anymore, and the thought deflated me.

Alpha bumps me with his muzzle. "We would both understand." The wolf reassures me. "If what Whitewind says is true, one of us might be the best we can ask for. It is my duty to die for you; it's what I'm prepared to do."

"If the time comes- Wait, Whitewind. Are you talking about Acer? Surely all of this worry is not for such a weak man?" 

While Acer had run a mafia nightclub single-handedly, I didn't fear him in a battle. He had skirted along with our group, doing just as he was designed to do. He played the middle role, not good but not evil. He was on the side that meant the least resistance; he was chaotic neutral at its finest. 

As the world blackens once more, I hear his last breath. "Son of Shadowcast."

My eyes open, and I sit bolt upright in the bed, cringing at the headache that begins to ebb. Artificial light from the street signs peeks in through the windows, and I've come to accept that this is daytime. Reaching instinctively across the bed, I feel that Verando is gone, and my pulse begins to quicken again.

 My worst fears hadn't yet been confirmed, surely it wasn't possible that he'd heard everything, that he'd left to find Tyr and force us to be separated.

I shove my way through the heavy comforters and snag the fresh clothes laid out for me by Stefan, though my haste only permits a simple shirt and boxer briefs. I rush down the stairs and skitter to a halt in the main room. 

Stefan cooks casually in the kitchen, preparing a large breakfast as Tiberius and his gang hum melodically from their perch at the kitchen island. Sulema startles, causing our resident fire mage to topple over from the surprise.

 "Randy!" I demand, "Has he gone? Did he already leave?"

Almost lazily, Verando appears in the doorway, caught off guard by my frantic searching. He's dressed casually, in a pale shirt and jeans, which shocks me considering Stefan's extravagant outfit choices. 

The strigoi peers over his shoulder at me, "There you are, Nic! Lazy prince, oh- excuse me! Your Grace!" He flips his hair with a giggle. "Breakfast is almost done."

I use a gust of wind to propel myself across the room and throw my arms around the gray-haired man, producing a grunt of discomfort at the impact. "G' mornin'." He mumbles around a spoon, pulling it out of his mouth with a curious expression. The heavy scent of a fresh shower fills my nose, and I brush back his damp locks to place a chaste kiss on the crook of his jaw. 

"Thank goodness. I was convinced-- you promised-- ... What're you eating?" I inquired, relieved that I'd been proven wrong. 

"Yogurt." He sounds equally quizzical. 

I raise an eyebrow, and Stefan answers with a proud grin. "You're welcome. Tonic used to go through gallons of the stuff." He must have remembered how desperate I was to feed the man.

I had forgotten that Stefan had spent quite a bit of time with Tonic; in some ways, I'm jealous. We hadn't gotten to that time yet; I hardly knew his favorite color or even his birthday, let alone the tiny, intricate details of day-to-day life. Verando claims the container, stealing another bite, only to let me intercept the spoon and sample a taste—my nose wrinkles at the bitterness. 

"Yuck. You can have it." I was much more of a fan of sweet treats when they were cold. 

Stefan smiles to himself, pleased with his discovery. "Like father, like son."

Eager to change the topic, Verando takes the spoon back to take another bite. I try not to let it bring down my mood further; something so simple really shouldn't bother me, and yet it does. Given my gifted intel, I should be less concerned with his habits, but as I stand here, I can't help but think of Whitewind's suggestion to separate our lives. 

Someone else had figured out these quirks, walked the line of oddities, and emerged victorious. What if it was for the best? What if, for him, there was life beyond me? But then I thought of the confirmation from god himself that Verando had picked me as his partner. Separating from him would mean acceptance that if it came down to it, I would live over Verando.

He had done it before, multiple times; he could survive on his own. 

"What brought on your grand entrance, darling? I went for a run this morning; you were dead to the world; I truly thought you'd sleep through it. This physique doesn't grow itself, you know."

Tiberius chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. "You don't look like that from running, 'darling'."

Tonguing his cheek in annoyance at the nickname, he ignores the Siren and sets the container down. I consider my options: tell them or don't. 

Was now the best time? Did I even know what I wanted to say? 

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out; I want the words to appear as my mind races over the fading dream. Concern flickers into his eyes, and I want to yell it out as I feel the information might strangle me with its weight. I feel a flurry of emotions: pain and regret, anger, and uncertainty. I just witnessed the death of a god, and I'm overwhelmed by the normalcy of the world around me. 

It's as if nobody but me noticed; it was as if the earth felt lighter, yet I was stuck shouldering the weight. The hint of resentment came in the strangest of these emotions; how dare he look so well rested, considering I spent my night trapped in purgatory? Finally, when it seems like the room has forgotten to breathe, I drop my shoulders and squeeze him again, pressing my cheek to his chest. 

"It's been a long night," I tell him, trembling from the chill and the fatigue.

Without Whitewind, the relief from the chill wasn't nearly so pronounced. 

"You're freezing." He sighs, touching my cheek with the back of his hand before circling his arms around me. "Damn it... I should never have left this morning; I'm sorry, Nic. You were quite warm when I left." 

Looking up, I see Stefan and Tiberius mirroring the knowing look. "You had a vision, didn't you?" Tiberius asks, standing from his chair.

Stefan waves a hand at him. "Now, now. Let's eat breakfast first, then talk. Surely, it can wait. You are masters at working yourselves up and leaving all my delicious food. I won't waste my time cooking food I can't eat for you to leave it on the plate." Piling a plate high with eggs, a muffin, and a pancake, he hands it to me with an expectant glare. "Eat, warm up, then you can tell us all about it."