Vyra

"All of that strife and for what?" Mena circled in place, affronted. "Don't you have anything to say?"

No one said a word.

Silently, I watched Sonya drop to Petir's side, carefully stirring him to wake. Titus looked at them, jaw clenched after he helped all of us to land.

Seren stared at me like I would bolt any second.

Waiting for the horror of taking one's life to hit me, like it had after my first hunt.

I'd sent a Lycan to an inglorious death.

I should care. I should feel something. But I don't. Not regret, not anything.

Titus sighed, trudging forward. Within seconds, he had Petir standing, his arm wrapped over his shoulder. "Lay off her Mena. She's been through enough today."

"Not, not enough. She killed a member of our pack."

Usually, annoyance would flare when she talked about me like I wasn't right in front of her.

Pride cloaked me, keeping the frost away. I didn't even have the urge to defend myself. Let her think what she wants, it already happened.

I wouldn't be a 'true' Lycan when I fought Seren, months from now.

But what if I could do what I'd done to Sonya's father, to him?

Titus defended me instead, tone sardonic. "I didn't know you and Bjorn were best friends."

"Fuck off! You know that's not what I'm concerned about. Vyra failed to pass the trial because you let her go rogue." She whirled on Seren.

Under her accusation, his eyes were cast dark as they shifted between me and the open abyss of the lake. He held an arm crossed over his chest, his other arm resting, fingers tracing over ice-bitten lips.

I studied it carefully, recognizing its intent with each layer I chipped away.

The same face he made when I begged him for a merciful execution, when he stood in front of the council to incriminate Cyrus.

He was plotting something.

"We witnessed the confession of a Clan Sol member murdering a member of Clan Stellae." Seren said, more to himself than anyone else, irises lighting up with early dawn.

Head tilted, I watched him weave the web slowly, and without providing the means to escape.

Mena fidgeted, picking at the skin of her knuckles. Stuck. "The Alpha is the only being permitted to end the life of a pack member without trial, and that's with reasonable imminent harm."

Seren nodded, as if contemplating. Pretending like he hadn't already considered every possible response, and his following actions.

Watching him negotiate was like reading a book, with already a beginning and an end.

"If anyone asks, I'm the one who did it." He lied so easily, I almost questioned my own memory. He stalked across the rocky lake bed, kneeling above Petir's mother. "Our only problem is Enku, once she wakes up. But I can handle that, if she wants to avoid exile."

"Seren?" Mena murmured, arms slack by her side in sheer disbelief. 

Silver stole my attention, meeting across the distance. Desecration poured from his mouth and drenched my good sense.

"Vyra, you've completed the second trial. We'll take Petir and Sonya back to the castle."

An inappropriate giggle bubbled in my chest. I rubbed over my scar, trying to quiet my own insanity.

I'd known exactly the map he was laying, the roads and labels. And still, I was just as shocked as Mena, whose mouth fell open.

"Seren, she killed someone. She has to go before the council where they will vote if she passes or not."

"I am the final vote. I've already decided." He walked over to Sonya and Titus, lifting Petir's arm over his shoulder instead. The exhausted male rested against his side, and he bore the weight like it was a feather. "It was in defense of her life, not carried out with malicious intent. I could see her thoughts. What is there to discuss? It's a formality and a waste of time to go before the elders."

His expression was too still, body stiff. He wasn't fully lying, but he wasn't telling the whole truth.

The question was why, why was he willing to lie at all? Was this his attempt at solidarity with Outcasts? Did he have a personal vendetta against the male?

He didn't have to save me a trial, he wanted to do this.

I wouldn't let him evade the reason any longer.

"Vyra." Seren called for me, cocking his head toward Sonya.

I froze for a couple seconds, before making my way to her. She smiled gratefully as I held her the same way.

"You're okay?" My voice was small as I addressed Petir, green eyes hidden under lazy lids.

He lifted his shaky hand high enough to flick the end of my nose, smile crooked. "Never better."

"We better get out of the cold." Seren started walking, nearly dragging Petir with him.

What a strange sight it was, to see the Alpha carrying an Outcast.

I let out another laugh, but inside another emotion surged.

Sonya shivered, lips turning blue again. "Let's catch up to them. I'm freezing and I don't like it, is this how you feel all the time?"

I hugged her closer, taking in her scent before continuing after the men.

"Are we going to pretend for the second time that she didn't use her voice to make someone hurt themselves?" Mena yelled, loud enough to scare off a murder of crows from the trees. "It's like fucking witch craft."

Witch craft. Sonya squeezed my ribs, waving her finger by her ear and widening her eyes. Crazy.

Yes, it was a crazy thought.

"Enough, Mena. For fucks sake." Titus answered, tired. "Now matter how many times you repeat yourself, things won't change. The Alpha has made his decision."

"Why do you never take my side?" Her voice rose to a high pitch, nearly a child. "Why do you insist on being my adversary even when you know I'm right?" Her intake of breath was shaky, "he's gone mad and she's—"

There was genuine confusion and betrayal in her tone. One day I'd figure out why.

"Goodnight Titus, Mena." I called, looking over my shoulder with a pacifying smile.

I'd known her long enough now, to know all her worries were not personal. Some of it was fear. Some of it was green, and hard to dismiss.

"Goodnight V." She grumbled back, as we made our limping way along to the fortress.

***

Seren helped Sonya settle Petir into his bed, laying him flat as she pulled up the covers. Without anyone asking, he crossed the room to start the hearth.

Feeling useless, I waited as Sonya sat down beside him, running her cool fingers over his forehead.

Sonya had a far off look, as if seeing beyond the four walls of his chamber. Though she'd given me devout acceptance, I wondered if she replayed how I killed her father over and over again.

Once the relief of surviving drifted away, would anger ensue? They were targeted because of me.

I wasn't the friend that could make one feel better, only wallow with them in their sadness.

That was Sonya's forte.

Seren looked up from his handiwork, the room already warmer. He wiped together his hands, brows furrowing as he bore a hole into the side of my face.

As if he could sense my helplessness, he stood and walked to Sonya.

"Well, it looks like now we all have one thing in common." He placed his hands on his hips, beholding the space.

Sonya held up her chin, paying attention out of respect. "And what would that be?"

"An astounding shortage of fathers..." His dimple made an appearance, nearly knocking me off my feet as he lamented. "Some will be more missed than others."

I snorted, and his smile grew wider as he waited for her reaction.

Sonya joined in, laughing while grabbing at her torso. "Please I'm in pain, I can't breathe."

The terrible night was finally behind me. My shoulders sank low to the ground, grateful to see that while not entirely filled, the twinkle was back in her eyes.

My bed called for me, but I remained standing in my spot. I couldn't miss this.

Seren's eyes held the same fervence, "want to hear stories Vyra is too embarrassed to tell about her training?"

I rolled my eyes, kicking at the floor as I bit my lip. Unable to find it within myself to say no when my best friend kindled like a Yule tree.

"Please, do tell! She doesn't say a thing!"

"What a damn shame she's been holding out."

Moving to place myself in a chair by the fireplace, I observed as Seren dramatically weaved tales about my mishaps during our time together.

Lulled in and out of sleep between his velvet baritone and Sonya's enthralled amusement, I couldn't tell what was real or a dream as the hearth nipped at my feet.

"Vyra does that all the time when she's mad."

Seren sighed, "I know."

"You've been watching her. That day by the lake wasn't luck."

"Not a chance. My father forced me to keep an eye out for any threats and then..."

Their voices faded for a while, suddenly spurring back to life.

"Vyra told me you like to draw. And very well."

Silence. The crack and sputter of fire taking space.

"She did?" The question curled like a cat that found a pleasurable place to sit under the sun.

"Yes." All good humor left Sonya's tone, "If things don't turn out the way I want them to—"

"With me dead?" The Alpha mused.

Sonya stuttered before he told her not to worry. Taking a deep breath, she made a shaky request. "I would like a portrait of her to keep. To remember her by."

"I only draw what I love."

My slumber didn't like this. I tossed in the chair, heart burning. An image of the woman he sketched conjuring before fizzling away.

"You'll take the week to rest. Both of you." A chair scraped against the stone floor.

It was the last thing I heard before my mind and body fully gave out.

***

The next time I awoke, the Alpha sat close, hand touching my face.

"What the fuck?" I pulled away, lifting the covers with me.

In my bed. In my room. Wearing a long flowy nightgown over my tattered scraps.

My heart beating rapidly, I looked out the window to see the moon still beaming proudly in the sky.

Seren had the nerve act slighted, "I'm tending to your wounds."

Still jumpy from being broken from my sleep, I looked around. He shifted uncomfortably in the armchair he placed next to my bed, a single candle lighting us within the dark.

His fingers were covered in silver salve, the tips of them burning.

Without thinking, I grabbed them, wiping the salve off onto my covers. "What are you doing? Have you gone mad?"

Seren swallowed, looking between us like I was the one eating at his flesh. I let go of his hand, hiding further in the covers.

"I was testing a theory. While silver harms us, it has the opposite effect on you." His eyes the same hue danced over my features. "The areas that I placed the salve have already calmed down." he hesitated, breath hitching as his focus settled on my eye. "You're hurt. Badly."

I slid onto my back, my eyes never leaving him. Feeling suddenly weaker than I had during the trial.

"It'll heal. Eventually." Smiling hurt, so I winced instead. The sides of my mouth dry.

"Can I-" He bit his full lower lip, waiting patiently as he gestured to my wounds.

"Oh yes." I hoped the light was too low for him to see my face flush. "Thank you."

He was so close, as the pads of his fingers ran over the small, hairline scrapes, his breath skated over me. Peppermint and sweet.

"I was going to say, it's nothing. It's what we do for each other. But it means something to you." His fingers tapped gently across my cheekbone, assessing the damage.

He was different today. Like the shelter he'd built around himself made room for one more to fit in.

"Why do you want me to pass the trials, Seren?"

This time I wouldn't threaten him.

From the way he looked at me, I knew I didn't need to.

"Because every single legitimate Lycan in this pack has completed them." He dipped into more salve, eating the pain. Daring a cut close to my lip, he carefully spread the silver. "If there's a chance that I lose, it will be impossible to earn anyone's loyalty if you don't even know, cherish, and practice our ways."

He said it like it was nothing, a usual quirk of his when he spouted something so monumental my world would shatter.

If my body weren't worn and nearly broken, I'd laugh until I cried.

All this time I thought of this as punishment, torture. I'd misjudged him so greatly.

Despite the impossibility of me winning...he was doing me a fucking favor. Granting me a sliver of respect, to which I could wield in case I championed over him.

I kept the flurry of reactions to myself, knowing he'd flee if I showed anything other than civility or hatred.

"Does it have to be this way?" I croaked out, groggy and weak. "Can't we..."

Getting along sounded childish. Making amends was impossible, our rivalry started before I could speak.

He let his hand trail down from my face, to my neck, to my chest. My throat caved as he placed his salve coated thumb inside the divot, covering a bruise. "No. We can't."

I was expecting the rejection, craved it even. It brought me back to what I knew, which was that this man stood between death and victory.

Still my face flushed, deeper than before. Only slightly uncomfortable at first, but I didn't want to bother Seren as he worked so painstakingly.

That was before it became intolerable.

My body writhed as the heat traveled strangely, from the top of my head to my thighs.

"Seren, I think something's wrong." I moaned out, in rippling pain. My voice came out in soft pants, "I-I must have a fever." I pointed to the candle, "Turn it off."

Heat. Terrible, blissful, raging heat coursed up and down my body.

Seren nearly jumped from his feet, anger coloring his face.

"I'll go get the healer."

Deranged. I couldn't think. Speaking felt like war, tongue tied and hot-limbed.

"No," I grabbed his hand again, adamant. His flesh felt like cool spring water. Delirious, I pressed my face to his palm, my lips grazing against the lines, "please stay."

The only source of relief was his skin. Drenching me, liquid and so soothing. Warm but somehow bringing me out of the flames.

"I'm burning. I'm burning." I murmured onto his flesh, feeling goosebumps rise with it. "I need you."

He ripped himself out of my grasp.

The last I saw of him before falling to sleep, was the Alpha pale and horrified.