We watched, mesmerized as the mother owl secured her kill before preparing for takeoff. But soon my tranquility turned to apprehension. A chill rolled down my spine, and the fur on my shoulders lifted uncomfortably. It felt like we were being watched. Our little moment of peace was over.
I didn’t move, but flicked my ears back. Sure enough, I heard the familiar heavy thud of someone approaching. Before I turned around to confirm their identity, anxiety had alreadysoaked my insides. Those heavy steps could only belong to a polar bear.
Unable to take the suspense, I glanced over my shoulder. My anxiety quelled slightly. It was Rorik, another omega around my age. He was a polar bear shifter, and the largest omega in the clan. I’d mistaken his heavy approach as belonging to our clan alpha, Konrad. Although I was relieved to see him instead, I wished Sorrel and I could’ve had a few more moments alone.
“Poppy,” Rorik greeted with a nod. “We’re far from camp. What are you two doing out here?”
“I got permission,” I said swiftly. “Konrad said it was okay.”
Rorik seemed surprised, but didn’t press further. He watched the owl for a couple seconds, then said, “He sent me to retrieve you. We should return soon.”
“I’ll go back,” I said, trying not to sound defeated. “I just want to sit here for another minute or two.”
Rorik grunted in affirmation. After a moment, he said, “That owl would make a good offering to Konrad.”
A rush of panic flowed through me. “She’s a mother,” I pointed out.
Rorik’s eyes widened, flashing with regret. He clearly didn’t know. “Ah. How can you tell?”
“She’s big. Female snowy owls are larger than males. She’s probably getting ready to lay eggs come spring.”
Rorik let out a small chuckle. “You are wise, wolf.”
His compliment soothed me. I relaxed, letting myself enjoy his company. Rorik was big and strong, but beneath his tough exterior, he had a kind heart.
“Offerings! That’s a good idea, Rorik. I’m gonna hunt for voles,” Sorrel exclaimed, bounding away to sniff at the ground nearby. He stayed close enough that I could keep an eye on him.
Rorik lowered his head to speak quietly in my ear. “It’s almost time for our duty assignments. Are you ready?”
The invisible weight on my shoulders grew heavier. I couldn’t escape this topic—or my fate.
“I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “Are you?”
“Yes. I assume I’ll be trained as a fighter. I’d be shocked if they assigned me anything else.”
My ears drooped. Rorik was so confident, ready to face any challenges in his path. Why couldn’t I be more like him? Why did I feel so nervous all the time?
“You’ll be a great fighter,” I murmured.
Rorik watched me, his small black eyes bright, then asked, “What concerns you?”
I sighed. I couldn’t reveal the full depth of my feelings, but an inkling was acceptable.
“I don’t know what I want,” I admitted.
But that wasn’t quite true. I wanted more. I wanted something different than what the tundra clan offered. The world was massive and scary, and the thought of stepping a paw outside my bounds terrified me, but it also inspired possibilities beyond my imagination. What if there was something better out there?
That was too much to dump on Rorik, though. I doubted he’d understand my feelings—or worse, he might even tell the clan alphas about them, and they wouldn’t appreciate my curiosity.
“Everything will be all right,” Rorik said. “Don’t worry so much.”
Although I couldn’t take it to heart, I appreciated his attempt to comfort me. It made me feel slightly less alone.
“Thanks, Rorik,” I said. “I—”
“Poppy.”
Konrad’s voice sent a cold chill across my pelt. I leapt to all four paws, spinning around to see him towering over us on the hill’s peak. He was an absolutely massive polar bear. Unlike Rorik, he had maturity on his side. Konrad was filled out, all fatand muscle and raw strength, the most powerful creature in our clan.
