I blink, feeling like the world’s glitched. “Pardon?”
“We allowed you to get lost in the shuffle after your family perished. It was a dishonor to your father. He was a faithful pack member, always ready and willing to help those who needed it. I know that’s colored your view of the pack.” He steeples his fingers together.
“We’re living in trying times. The majority of my energy has gone to keeping us afloat and forging new alliances. I can admit that’s left things to be desired here at home.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I don’t trust his sudden benevolence. It doesn’t fit who he is.
“Because I need you to understand what it looks like to do things for the whole of the pack.”
Warning bells clang loudly in my head like a church steeple at the start of an hour. He’s prepping
me for bad news. I remain silent, still focused on the lines in his brow.
“You hold the pack’s future in your hands—”
Hysterical laughter bursts free. Had the universe come back and bitch slapped the Alpha like that?
The ignored and mistreated one of the pack now has the ultimate say. I cover my mouth with my hands, eyes wide.
“I-I’m sorry. This is just ridiculous.”
His eyebrows hike. I know he hears me just fine.
“It was a shock to me as well,” his lips twitch.
I lower my hands into my lap, interlacing my fingers. “This has to be a misunderstanding.”
“It’s not.”
“She’s here.” My uncle steps in with a long white-haired woman behind him.
Dressed in a rough-hewn dark blue dress she has a Fenrir necklace. Runes drawn down her bare arms; she’s an awe-inspiring vision.
“You’ve returned.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice.” Sarcasm drips from my words.
“We all reap what we sow. The wheel rolls around and everyone gets a turn.”
Her words spark my interest. “The wheel of the year?”
The woman has always intimidated me. With eyes so pale they look translucent; her aura is off-putting. Her power surrounds her like an invisible barrier.
“Yes. But of life as well.” She beckons me. “Come. Join me at the fire.”
I rise, casting an inquiring look at the Alpha.
“Go,” he commands.
Stepping outside, the cedar smoke from the fire ring of stones fills the air.
The Volva opens the brown bag on her hip and pulls out a mixture of herbs. Pitching them into the fire causes the flames to grow blue and jump higher.
The strange blend tickles my nose and makes my head muggy.
“This will allow us to speak with the gods who created us.” How can so much power fit into such a tiny body? Thin and wizened, she’s petite and barely five-foot-six.
Raising her arms above her head, she begins a shuffling dance around the flames. Dizzy, I sink onto a log around the fire.
Humming she spreads the smoke around with an ash wand. I’m rocking to her rhythm when she pauses in front of me.
“The least will lead when the blood moon rises. Daughter of Fenrir will awaken and decide the
fate of the pack.” Her voice is hollow.
She’s a vessel for something more powerful than the human shape can contain. Thunder rolls in the distance and lightning flashes overhead.
I feel the truth in her words as magic passes through me. My eyelids drift closed.
I slip into an altered state of being. Lost in the recess of my mind, I’m surrounded by darkness.
A bright light falls over me. I turn slowly, finding myself in a cavern.
I follow the torches lining the wall.
Darkness lifts, and I see a circular section of light. I quicken my pace, speeding toward the exit from the stagnant space.
Fresh air drifts across my face. I tilt my head toward the moon standing out in the cloudy sky. Craggy volcanic rock covers the surface.
