The village center is quiet, desolate due to the storm, but the large building that serves as its mecca is a beacon in the dark. I nearly sob at the sight of it. My arm is a mangled bit of agony, the skin there shredded. Now that I can see it in the light, it seems to hurt worse. My stomach revolts at the sight as I slip down Val, falling on my ass. My heart pounds against my ribs as I get to my feet. When I start for the door, hoping for a nice quiet entry, I hear a savage bellow from inside.
Valoryx does too.
He answers his master.
I can hear Fafnir bellowing commands to his mount. One’s no doubt meant to render anyone between him and his release slaughtered.
The response is immediate. As Val starts forward, intent on barreling his way through the doors, armed Bhaurnul males rush out. “Stop!” I scream, which gets the attention of the males.
The wind howls like mad, Val’s mane wildly tufted and smeared with my blood. They immediately misunderstand. I panic as they blow a dart at him, doing the only thing I can think of. Something incredibly taboo. When Val lowers his chest to the ground, leaving his hind high, readying for an attack, I scramble in front of him. Narrowly dodging the grabby giants attempting to wrangle me back. One snags my injured arm, making me scream in pain and wobble a bit as I stumble in front of the currently less helpful lion-lizard. I grip both of his larger horns on the far sides of the crown of them that crests his head. My skull slamming against his much larger one with a painful thud, and I scream.
Not a scared kind, but as close as I can get to the odd bellowing vocal commands Fafnir gives. Val’s slitted eyes lock onto mine, snarling madly, shoving me as he jerks. I bare my teeth right back. I am in no danger, but they don’t know that. We have bigger fish to fry than an overprotective mount with good intentions and terrible execution.
He settles, reluctantly, his heavy back end slamming to the ground, his eyes tracking the males who are looking at me like I’ve just birthed a unicorn and then rode it into battle. When I start toward the building, their befuddlement wears off abruptly.
One barks at me in his native language. Due to the war contracts, most Bhaurnuls have been taught universal, forgoing translator implants. Which means it’s shoddy at best. “I don’t speak horned giant. Let me through.” I command him, holding my chin up, but I’m dizzy.
So dizzy. Their heads look tiny compared to their bodies, coming in and out of focus, and I can’t fathom that’s a good sign. My head swims, and I think I might pass out.
“There is a trial in order, you may not—’
I move back toward Val. He snarls as they reach for me. “You will not fucking touch me, or I will let him kill the lot of you,” I warn.
I have no idea how to command, or even politely ask Val to do a damn thing. They probably know that.
Oh hell.
They eye my injuries, starting for me again.
“I’m pregnant! Take me to speak with the Elder immediately. I need to see Fafnir.” It comes out pleading, desperate. Everything I’m not supposed to be. A spasm of pain lynches my heart. The adrenaline is wearing off and fast. “Please. I’ve come so far. It’s cold and I’m hurt.”
The words tumble out of me, hopelessness heavy in my voice, and to my amazement, they all but scurry to usher me inside. The warmth is immediate, my muscles throbbing as they ache. When I enter, the space looks different. No tables of supplies, nor the warm spiced smell of prepped ingredients. It’s warm, but cold, cavernous. Empty. My eyes find him quickly, my heart cracking in my chest, because he’s already found me.
Of course he has.
Fafnir’s eyes are a blanket of deep red. There’s no battle, no swirling of brown against crimson. Not a hint of gold. He’s lost. My chin wobbles at the state of him. He’s filthy, covered in dried blood, the spears at his shoulders, sides, and back digging in despite him being chained. The ends are held by several males on either side. “Mine.” He snarls, lunging. The sound of the chains makes me wince.
“Why is she in here? Have her removed.”
“No!” He bellows, snarling, going for the elderly woman. She looks unaffected, but I don’t miss the way she flinches as he jerks forward, making the sharp tips of the spears puncture his flesh.
I rush forward, my legs nearly giving out as I dart for him, only to be snagged by a male. He hauls me against his chest, and the sound that comes from my Fafnir is wicked and haunting. “You will release her, or I’ll break these bonds and rip your entrails from your gut! I will eviscerate you so thoroughly your ancestors will scream as you pass to the next life!”
“You cannot go to him; he is not as you remember.” The male hisses in my ear.
“Let me down now! I am pregnant, you’re hurting me! Faf, I’m pregnant!” I yell at him, watching as he suddenly goes very still. For the first time since I laid eyes on him, the chains are not taut.
“Release her. She will not do anything foolish, correct?” The woman says it like a warning instead of a question, and I nod. My mind wobbles at the quick descent, making me stumble a bit. Her eyes widen in horror. “What has been done to you?”
“Blue wolves,” I answer absently, as I try to steady my swaying as I walk to her. My entire body shakes as I thrust the pen test into her lap, smearing blood on her skirt as I go.
“Female, come to me,” Fafnir orders. The males shove him violently, making his chin connect roughly with the ground as they bark something out in their language. “Come. Now.”
I tremble, wanting so badly to listen. To calm him, but I can’t. He needs to show them he can do it himself. That’s why we’re here. They think he’s a lost cause, a monster in his own mind. He’s proving them right. “You’re going to need to remember how to breathe before I can do that, big guy,” I call out, not looking at him.
He growls in response.
My eyes are on the only person with any authority here.
Her.
The bloody test trembles in her hands as she steels herself. “Get her a medical kit, quickly.” She barks. Hooves beat on the ground as the doors fly open, letting in another blast of cold air.
“What is a wolf… how has it done this to you?”
I open my mouth before a booming familiar voice calls from the back, sounding more than a little winded and extremely irritated. “A wandering pack of Shivarn. She left them in mangled chunks, no doubt thanks to her mount.”
My mount? No. “Fafnir’s mount.” I correct, my eyes still on hers.
“It obeys you; you have bonded to him.”
I nod. Mostly obeys, he does more or less what he wants, but I keep that to myself.
“You could’ve been killed, merciless Valkyra.” Fafnir snarls. When I glance at him, a dangerous, painful hope blooms in my chest. His eyes are red, but there’s brown, just a little of it. The others notice too. I watch as brows furrow and they shift uneasily.
I wonder just how hard it is… what Fafnir is doing.
If it’s ever been done before.
“Your eyes—’ the elder female starts, looking visibly shaken.
“I am not so far gone.” He snarls in response.
“Lies!” My guard calls from the back. “His eyes were completely overcome; it has been days. The entire time, he has been no more than a bral’qorn. A beast lost to his rage! How many has he killed? How many wounded?!”
“You took my mate, you are blessed I did not kill more!”
The room goes silent. All our heads snapping to him in unison.
Mate?
“Impossible, there has not been a recognition in—’
“Come, human, let me see your palms.”
My palms?
I lift them, looking at the bloody covered rings. My eyes go to Fafnir, his long gray hair mangled around his horns, dirty with blood as he nods. Brown swirling red. I’m breathing hard as I wipe them on my pants, clearing the filth, but it doesn’t do much but smear it. When I reach the woman seated on a large wooden bench, she gasps.
My eyes are wide on hers.
“They can be faked!” My guard yells, making me shoot him daggers. “He is without honor; he only wishes to avoid a wandering. No one is above the end, not even the most valiant of us. We all meet our war—’
“Silence. The guards reported a searing from his horns. I had assumed it was because of his illness. I- I hadn’t thought it was possible…”
They argue, the room erupting in loud, booming voices as I turn to Fafnir, where he pants in his chains. His eyes are tormented. “You are hurt,” he offers, and I can’t stand the defeated, broken sound of his voice.
I run for him. My knees knock the ground roughly as I skid, wrapping my arms around his broad neck. The first of a few wayward sobs escape me as his warm skin presses against mine. The room is silent again, but I don’t care. When they try to pull him back, I ignore the devilish growl that leaves him. “Hush, just breathe. Show them you’re still you.” I whisper, peppering kisses on his dirty chin. “I’m your mate. W-why didn’t you tell me, you stupid male?”
“I hadn’t thought it would be well received.”
“Stupid.” I smile, clinging to him harder.
“He is not attacking her.” Another warrior states, baffled.
“Of course not.” Fafnir spits.
“Drop his chains.” She orders, but they hesitate. My guard again opening his mouth. All these long days he’s had nothing to say and now suddenly he can’t seem to shut up.
“You cannot be serious, you—’
“I am the reigning elder. Do you wish to question me again?”
“He is your son, perhaps your favor is—’ his words cut off in a grunt.
I turn my head, making Fafnir growl as he tries to keep me tucked tightly under his chin. The enigmatic older female’s horns are long while other females keep theirs short, a sign of her status. She’s standing now, my pregnancy pen gripped in her hand. When I turn my attention to the guard, he’s grinding his teeth so hard I worry they’ll snap, a small blade sticking out of his left arm.
Oh shit.
“Ogarrex, you are dismissed. Release Fafnir, now.”
The chains slap to the ground loudly, but not loud enough to miss the way his flesh squelches when they pull the spears free. He doesn’t hesitate, gathering me in his arms. Lording over me as if to keep the others at bay. I give him a watery smile. “It’s going to be alright.”
Another deep sob gathers in my throat. Fafnir’s mate.
I’m Fafnir’s mate.
I get to keep them, both of them. At least for now.
The delicate thud of hooves only barely drags our attention from one another. The way he stares at me tells me he’s thinking the same thing. When his mother offers me the pregnancy pen, her hands are steady, as if they’ve never dared to shake before. “This changes nothing. Surely you understand. Accommodations will be made to support the two of you until the kit is born, but—’ she takes a deep breath. “You’ve killed many Fafnir.”
“Every death was justified.” He seethes.
I’m surprised when she nods in agreement. “It would be easier, different had so many not seen.”
Seen his eyes, she means.
“While you seem to hold an unnatural level of control over your berserker, over this… sickness, we’ve all witnessed the progression.”
He stands, taking me with him, and again I’m awed by my giant horned alien. He must be in agony; you’d never know it if you couldn’t see the wounds. “I will kill more if it is necessary. I will leave not a soul in this village untouched if you try to remove my mate from me. Not even you, mother.”
Tears spring to my eyes, my heart uncaring if that wasn’t the most intelligent move given our situation. The Bhaurnul people are different though, they speak in terms of violence. When I turn away from my mate to face her, where I expect to see horror, rage even… there is only respect and a deep, unending well of sadness.
“She will not be taken, so long as you are you. If the day comes when you fear you will no longer be, I expect you to do the honorable thing. War madness will come, and when it does—’ I barely stifle my gasp as she removes the long wooden pin in her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders, revealing the half bald, scarred top of her head. Toward the front is a deep divot, like her head had been terribly gored there. Her eyes meet mine with her chin high, her next words said aloud but for me alone. “When it does, the love you feel for her will not be enough to cool the rage. You will forget her face as you maim it.”
He nods, and my heart sinks deeper yet. This impasse is only a bandage for the gnarled, festering wound that lingers under my relief.
“Ogarrex will remain your guard. He is the strongest amongst us. Aside from your mate. You will have him until after the kit’s weaning period and no more. You are favored in Valhyr’s eye, he has blessed you in ways our people have longed for, for one too many spans. Savor it, then wander.”
“And my mate, after I am gone?”
“Wait,” I interject, fussing until I’m lowered to my own two feet. “What does wander mean? Gone how, like sent away? I will go with you, Fafnir.” I hate it. How pitiful I sound even to my own ears, like I’m clinging to sand that won’t stop rushing through my fingers.
They ignore me, both of them, only Fafnir giving me a warning look that says, not now.
Her aged eyes level me, I hold her gaze as best I can, but I’m tired. My head is swimming, and everything hurts. “She is only human in form. I suspect she is more Bhaurnul than even some of us. It takes a lot… to do what she has done tonight. Valhyr has given you a lovely mate. She will always have a home here, if that is what she chooses.”
Emotion seizes my chest, and oh god, I’m hanging on by a thread.
When she steps forward, it’s with a small smile. The female kneels, pressing her palm to my flat stomach. “Shorra’vul,” she whispers and without another word and a curt nod, she stands and leaves.
“What does that mean?”
“It is a blessing of sorts; she wished the kit well.”
The next hour is a blur in my mind, and seen through eyes that refuse to stop producing tears. My arm is tended by a healer. The stitches nearly make me black out. Apparently, the Bhaurnul doesn’t widely use automatic healers… or pain medicine. I cringe to think what that means for the birth of this baby. Soon enough, we’re mounted on the back of Val, and I fall asleep, safe in my mate’s arms, before we make it past the opening of the glacier rocks.
