Conri turns to the large boulder—nearly a small cliff—that looms over the grove. As he outstretches both hands, a low wind howls through the trees. But the air is still…No, not wind. The lykin themselves howl. Whispers at first. But then louder as Conri raises his hands. When he thrusts his palms skyward, as if to hold the very moon itself aloft, Conri lets out a scream-like howl that the rest of them join with him in.
Then, a voice rises above the rest. It rattles the air in my lungs, leaving me gasping. Even Aurora shifts her stance, widening it, as if bracing herself. The greatest howl of all is the call of the wild itself.
Mist pours over the crest of the ridge, flowing down like a waterfall and pooling into the grove. It races through the trees, sending rivers out toward the Lykin Plains and leaving me to wonder if this is the actual source of the consistently mist-covered grasslands.
Two twilight-gray ears crest the ridge first, followed by eyes as white as the full moon, glowing with unnatural light. The muzzle of the wolf is white, as if the spirit ages with time. He moves slowly, as though every step causes him great pain. For a muscled beast as long as fifty paces, I would expect the ground to tremble under his mighty paws. But he moves without a whisper.
Ulfryk lowers himself to the top of the ridge, paws folding. The spirit manages to look somehow intrigued and yet exhausted at the same time. Even though his eyes lack any kind of irises or pupil, I can feel when his attention lands on me. Punctures me. He sees right through my flesh and bone to Aurora’s magic within, and with that stare alone, he could set it to boiling. I am judged and exposed.
The great wolf spirit settles his muzzle on one of his massive paws as he lowers himself to the ground. The air around him seems to shift from intimidating to boredom, and somehow that is even more agitating. As if Aurora and I are not even significant enough for him to care.
“What have you brought before me, king of mortal wolves?” The words are a low grumble in the back of my mind. The great wolf spirit speaks without moving his giant maw.
“It is time for me to take a wife.” Conri’s answer confirms my suspicion—they can understand this spirit. Perhaps because Ulfryk’s magic is within them.
“A human?” The spirit’s ears twitch. Once more I sense his eyes on me.
“A human with the power of the moon spirit within her.”
“An interesting conundrum.”
The notion of begging this spirit for help briefly flashes through my mind. Surely, when presented with a need to help his kind, this spirit wouldn’t turn his back, would he? I open my mouth, but close it promptly, remembering what Aurora said. She is still and silent. If she’s not making any movements toward seeking help then neither will I. Aurora might be his kin, but the lykin are his children. Ulfryk’s loyalties are clear.
“I will make her my bride—in spirit, body, and blood,” Conri declares. “Here and now, as your descendant and spiritual heir, I ask you to preside over and bless our union and join our souls.”
A low growl, almost like an amused hum, vibrates through the back of my mind. Ulfryk shifts just slightly, but it’s enough that I get the sense his gaze is solely on Aurora. Especially when she stands a little taller.
“Is this your doing?” the great wolf asks.
“I might be powerful, brother—perhaps even more powerful than you.” Aurora’s jab is met with a flash of amusement in the wolf’s eyes that could just as easily be read as a warning. “But you know as well as I that not even my powers can touch the work of the gods.”
“I would prefer not to delay.” Conri’s agitation is as apparent as his obliviousness.
There’s something amiss. Something that none of us had been calculating for or planning on. It’s beginning to crystalize in my mind like the frosted edges of a lake, not quite fully connected. Not solid.But almost…
“Wolf king, if it were within my powers to bind your union, I would. But, alas, it is not.” The wolf spirit doesn’t seem to be particularly distraught about the subject. My perspective of thespirit is shifting, from a malicious image to that of an ancient being that has little care for much of anything. But ambivalence is its own malice.
“What?” The whispered word falls flat from Conri’s lips. Heavy. I can almost imagine it toppling off the flattened stone on which we stand. Then, stronger, “What have you done?” He turns to Aurora.
“Did you not hear me? I have done nothing.” She folds her arms and looks quite proud.
Conri whirls on me next, rage nearly bubbling over. It’s only contained when he looks back to Ulfryk. “Oh, great wolf spirit, why is it not within your powers?” Each word is bitten out, terse and short.
“Because I cannot bind a soul that is already bound,” Ulfryk answers plainly. “I cannot give you a mate that has already been claimed.”
CHAPTER 47
The connection is madein my mind. What Aurora said about Conri’s charm not being able to work on me once I accepted my soulmate because there was nothing for it to cling to any longer. About her being able to see our bond from the start.
One soul. Two halves.
I look to Evander and never have I felt so much joy and sorrow at the same time. He truly is everything. All my hopes, fears, wishes, and wants wrapped up into a single man. But for it…
Conri lets out a roar unlike any I have ever heard. Even the very trees of Den seem to tremble. He spins to Aurora, shoulders heaving with ragged breaths.
“You—”
“Did you not hear me? I couldn’t do anything that would forge this bond,” Aurora snaps back at him.
