The large chunk of my loose hair is smoothed back from my face, and fluffed. A knot is tied, leaving the rest flowing down.
I’m morphing into some unknown wild maiden, right before my eyes. I’ve never worn the traditional style as an adult.
It feels like the pack is reclaiming me after my life among the humans. Chilled, I spin to the side as she picks up a paintbrush, dips it into the white paint, and draws a line across my face, the bridge of my nose, and over the other side.
Small offset tick lines are added through the main line on either side of my face. Moving back, she tilts her head, studying me.
Dipping a second brush into another glass jar she paints my lips a deep purple and draws a line down the center of my bottom lip.
“Now you are ready.”
Something is going on. “I still don’t understand.”
A strange look flashes over her face. “You will.” Her words loom over me like a rain cloud ready
to burst and unleash hell on those caught beneath.
“How can I be prepared for what’s coming if I’m kept in the dark?”
“You’ve always been a resourceful girl. I’m sure this will be no different.” Ignoring me, she puts
the lids on the face paint.
“There’s one last thing. Alpha’s people brought by ancestral jewelry from your clan. It’s waiting for you on the table downstairs.”
Gathering her things, she stalks out before I can ask anything else. We don’t dress like this without good reason.
It’s not a sacred day or a celebration. Tonight, Alpha must be dropping heavy bombshells.
He likes to remind us of the old ways and the hierarchy right before he pulls the strings, he holds tight. I grip the edge of the vanity and lean forward.
“There’s no laying down and folding tonight, Ylva. You’re fighting for more than yourself. This time around you have power, and you will bargain within an inch of your life.”
Standing, I make my way out of the room, leaving the last vestiges of childhood fear behind.
Downstairs, I approach the table where silver items glint beneath the overhead lights. I approach
the rings, bracelets, and armbands.
Hands shaking, I touch the braided metal with the tip of my finger, feeling the weight and power of the ancestors who came before me.
I’m honored to wear them as my mother once did. Warmth spreads through my body and I sense my ancestors rallying around me. Lifting it, I slip it on my middle finger.
A silver armband has a double triangle pattern stamped into it. I slip it around my left arm. The weight settles my nerves.
The last piece is an oval brooch with strings of dangling glass beads in blue, green, and white. A Norse three-row broach with alternating silver, blue, green, and white glass beads.
A charm hangs from the silver half-moon center. It shares the symbol I saw on Fenrir’s Island.
For a moment, I can feel his power pulsing through it. I clip it onto my dress.
A warm breeze blows across my face, and I feel his blessing. I ball my hand into a fist and press it against my heart in reverence.
Fenrir walks with me as I enter the den full of enemies and those who seek their gain over that of the pack. I’ve been chosen for this task and accepted.
Don’t let me fail.
CHAPTER SIX
The forest is alive with the buzz of cicadas. I walk through the trees using my sharp eyesight to avoid the thick roots poking up through the dirt.
Untouched, pack land is ancient and free from the taint of man. We’d long turned the space into something protected from the outside land through a deal with the government.
While the law forbids others from entering, magic takes care of the rest with strong wards and other deterrent spells. I lift the hem of my skirt and follow my uncle and aunt.
We delve deeper into the heart of the woodland. Tall pines grow impossibly high and their trunks are thick in a way I never saw in the human world.
Inhaling the heady and comforting scents of moss, leaves, and flowers I reconnect with the land I’d grown up on.
I missed the unspoiled beauty I took for granted. Wolves howl as pack mates run off excess energy. Their shapes rush past, weaving in and out of the trees.
I admire the beauty of their silken fur beneath the moonlight. Back at school, I ran alone infrequently.
Here where there’s no one to hide from, we’re free to be our true selves. We descend and the temperature drops as the trees grow closer together.
As the ground levels out, I spot more clans gathered in small groups.
Families amble toward the big fire dressed in traditional garb. I admire the kohl lining their eyes, bold symbols on cheeks and foreheads, and the silver, amber, and brass jewelry.
