8 | A Queen

*** Alpha Eamon's POV

I mind-linked my trackers a little after sunup, telling them to give up the hunt. She was good—very good—and they weren’t even close to finding her trail. The only trace she left behind was a pile of rocks that smelled pungent of bile.

I also sent a quick update to my Beta and Gamma, letting them know what I was up to. Occasionally, they’d send me updates on other goings-on, but my focus was entirely on the scene unfolding before me.

It was astounding how far she had traveled on foot. We were well outside the regional kingdom now, moving south at an impressive pace. I knew that in my wolf form, I could make it back to the war pack in less than a day, but she had managed to cover this distance in such a short time without any aid. It spoke volumes about her determination and resilience.

The she-wolf sat beneath a Pinus strobus, facing the trunk in a submissive prayer pose. I watched her closely, noticing a faint ripple across her neck, and then, slowly, a growl began to build from deep within her. The sound was primal, almost foreign after everything she’d endured.

Then, it hit me—the scent. It was unmistakable: somewhat balsamic, with hints of citrus and a light woodsy note. Crisp and clean, a fragrance that could only belong to one.

Mate, growled Fenri, standing at attention in my mind.

I was paralyzed, unable to move. I’ve waited 30 years for a mate, and she’s been locked in hell for who knows how much of it. My thoughts raced as I tried to reconcile the vision before me with the tortured reality she had endured.

Why did we not recognize her as our mate when we first held her, or during the many times we went to her bedside to lend her the healing powers of our Alpha blood? The bond had been there, faint and hidden, but why had it not surged forward like it was now? Was it the trauma, the years of abuse that had buried it so deep within her?

But then, I lost control. Fenri surged forward, asserting himself and moving toward her with no regard for the stealth we’d been using to track her so far. He was driven by something more powerful than caution—something primal and deeply rooted in our bond.

As we approached, she turned to look at us. Her eyes were glowing red, and a growl erupted from within her chest. The sound was fierce, a declaration of sovereignty and defiance. In that moment, Fenri froze, the weight of the moment crashing down on us.

Queen was all he could muster, his voice tinged with reverence and fear.

This wasn’t just a mate. She was something more—something powerful, ancient, and commanding. The realization sent a shiver down my spine. We had found our escapee, but I wasn’t sure who we had really found. The air around her seemed to crackle with untapped power, a force that had been dormant for far too long.

*** Nailo’s POV

There was nothing around me—not even dead dandelions to scrounge for roots, no food to be found. If I couldn’t feed my body, perhaps I could feed my soul.

As I wandered further, I began to suspect I had passed beyond the borders of the Regional realm. The white pines had begun to tower above me, their imposing presence a sign I had ventured out of the prince's territory. These trees were not native to the Regional areas, yet they stood here, sacred and beautiful, as if guarding the land itself.

It had been so long since I had walked beneath their majestic branches that I felt compelled to honor them. These pines, ancient and wise, had stood sentinel over the land for centuries. Their presence was a reminder of all that had been lost and all that still needed protection. I owed them respect—no, more than that, I owed them my devotion.

I knelt beneath the largest of the pines, an elder among giants, and prostrated myself before it. The earth was cold beneath my skin, but I found comfort in the connection, grounding myself in its strength. Whispering my prayers, I thanked the earth for guiding my steps, for keeping me alive when so many had perished. I renewed my commitment to protect all that would share in its shade, promising to stand as a guardian of the natural world, just as this tree had done for countless years.

As I prayed, something within me stirred—an awareness, an opening in my mind. One eye opened, and then another, until I could sense the breath of life again within my mind.

"Vasílissa," I felt the name rise from the depths of my mind, a connection with the spirit that had long been dormant within me.

The name echoed, reverberating through my consciousness like the roll of thunder across the sky. The intensity of it built and built until it felt as though my skull would split open from the pressure. And then, just as suddenly, I was pushed back—not by an external force, but by my wolf, by Vasílissa herself, thank the goddess.

Vasílissa took control with an authority that brooked no argument, leaving me a mere spectator within my own body. Quickly, she lifted our head, scanning our surroundings with a focus I hadn’t known in years. 

Then, she/we saw him—a bold male striding toward us with purpose. His presence was commanding, his steps sure and confident. And in my mind’s sheltered corner, Vasílissa sent a single thought to me: “Mate.”

Panic surged through me. “No,” I growled, my fear overtaking my instincts—until I saw him more clearly. This male was not one of the triplets who had tormented me. His aura was different, not tainted by cruelty or malice. 

“Vasílissa, are you sure?” I asked, feeling tendrils of fear creep into my heart for the first time all day. I had faced unimaginable horrors, but the idea of another mate was—understandably—terrifying.

“Mate,” Vasílissa said aloud, her voice carrying a certainty that left no room for doubt. The word was a proclamation, a declaration of the bond she felt with the stranger approaching us.

And then, from the depths of the male’s mind, I heard a single word in response: “Queen.” The word echoed with reverence, with recognition, and with fear.

Fuck, they know… was the only thought that raced through my mind.

If they recognized my wolf for what she was, they would want to use us—own us—that was always the way. But I am done being used.

I forced my way forward, wresting control from Vasílissa with every ounce of strength I had left. I had to shift. I didn’t know if I could do it, didn’t know if Vasílissa was strong enough to take form, but I prayed to the goddess that she was.

----- Phonetic spelling of Vasilissa: Va-silissa or vasilis-sa or vas-e-lys-a