“I’m fine,” she said, sounding breathless. Slowly, she spun to look at him again. Her eyes were red around their dark centers. Her cheeks damp from wiped tears. “You asked why I stare at the sea. Because for the first time in my life, I am looking at something new. Different waves, different faces, different sunrises and sunsets. You obviously take for granted the life you live, the breath in your chest, the power between your fingers. And I think that is why I hate you the most.” She wiped her lips with the back of her hand. “Because you have everything I do not.”
Her evaluation of him made something hot burn beneath his skin. “Do not presume to know me or what I value.”
Her face lit with an amused smile. “That would be assuming you have values at all, and I do not believe you do.”
“What would a heathen know of values?” he asked, stepping forward again. She mirrored his advance, meeting him somewhere in the middle.
“More than a monster.”
He laughed and it was a true sound that made her flinch. “If I am such a beast to you, then why are you standing so close?”
She lifted her chin to meet his glare. “It’s a small ship.”
So he was beginning to notice. Before he could respond, another voice joined them on the upper deck.
“Vali, the crew are requesting your—” Seela began, trailing when she noticed their standoff. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Just your captain about to get his ass handed to him,” Ailsa looked past him at his commander and smiled. “He’s all yours, Seela. I’m going inside for the night. Goodnight, Captain.” She spun on her toes so fast, her hair dark hair smacked him in the chest.
Only when she disappeared down the stairs did the tension in his shoulders fall.Values. He snorted. She had no idea what he held near, heartless or not. The things that burdened him, that shook him awake every night—all the reasons he couldn’t celebrate. How could a simple woman from a simple place ever understand the weight he carried?
“Vali—”
“I’ll be down in a minute,” he bit out. And Seela, knowing when he needed space, retreated to give him all he needed.
Whatever things Ailsa cherished now, whatever she valued in her heart, those would change. Journeys such as these had a habit of changing people along the way. And he almost regretted the woman he stole from the shores of Midgard would not be the same as the one he would give to the gods.
That fire in her fight would soon be reduced to cinders, and he’d be the one left standing in her ashes.
Ivor’s rich complexion was tinged green when Ailsa finally made her way inside. A combination of shifting for the first time and the motion of the boat had wreaked havoc on her stomach. The wolven looked up from her sickbed for a brief moment, then rested her head back on the pillow.
“Do you need anything?” Ailsa asked. She ran a hand over her forehead, still cool to the touch but clammy. Ivor shook her head, pressing her lips tight. “I brought you some water and some food, just in case you change your mind. I also have some fresh ginger I can put in a tea to help the nausea.”
“Thanks,” she groaned.
Ailsa threw herself on the bed next to the wolven and rested her eyes. “I’m just glad to see you talking. You had me worried for a while.”
She didn’t reply for the longest time. A silence stretched between them, and Ailsa thought she had fallen asleep until the small mattress shifted next to her.
“I didn’t know how to shift,” Ivor said quietly. Ailsa peeked her left eye open to look at her as she continued, “My family warned me against shifting, said we were in this realm as wolves, and we would stay here until Fenrir made it safe for us to be known. I never knew how to shift into my human form, so I could never tell you who I truly was.”
Ailsa slipped her hand into her friend’s, squeezing it gently. “Why is it dangerous to shift?”
“The wraiths, Ailsa. I smelled their presence constantly in those woods, lingering in the shadows of the trees. They see everything, whisper between themselves. If the wolven were seen in your area, Fenrir’s enemies would hunt us down. Possibly hurt your people as well.” She pressed a hand to her mouth, waiting for an isolated wave of nausea to settle. “The god was chained to an unknown island somewhere in Midgard because Odin resented his power, the Norns claimed the wolf would be his ending. But his bonds were broken by the love of a mortal woman who discovered his prison. It was said Fenrir could shift, and when he did, he mated with the mortal who then bore his offspring, the wolven.
“The gods in Asgard are still searching for Fenrir, as they believe he will destroy the worlds. The wolven used to hide in the Highest Branches with the fae, as the gods did not disturb the godless fae or the giants who antagonize them, but we were driven out by a darkness that descended upon the upper realms nearly a century ago. Now they are free to hunt us down, and if they do, they will torture us until we share Fenrir’s hiding place.”
Ailsa’s voice lowered to a whisper. “And do you know where he hides, Ivor?”
She paused before answering. “All wolven hear his call on the fourth night of midsummer, the anniversary of his imprisonment. He reminds us he is there, watching, waiting to take his revenge and make a new world, one safe for his offspring.”
Ailsa had never heard this tale of Fenrir before, perhaps because the storytellers did not know the true fate of the Great Wolf, or perhaps they were protecting the wolven from anyone searching for them. She could imagine the slaughter that would ensue, the reward the gods would give for finding such a beast. “Yet, you still came on this journey to the Highest Branches where the gods reside and on a boat full of fae who know exactly what you are. Why risk yourself?”
Ivor sighed. “Because you saved my life over a decade ago when you found me in the woods, after my pack had been killed off by a group of hunters. And you are my family. I will follow you to the end.”
Ailsa smiled, her heart warm because all at once she gained another piece of family. She was suddenly not so alone anymore. “I’m glad you’re here,systir,” she said.
Ivor’s response was interrupted by the violent shift of the ship. Voices raised outside of their cabin, the starlight outside the small window on the wall now sunken beneath the waves. She sat up from the bed and attempted to steady herself against the rocking floor beneath her feet. The pitcher on her bedside table crashed to the floor, soaking the lining of her leather shoes and sprinkling glass shards across the room.