I blink. “Wait… sacrifices? Seriously?”
“Yep.” Wyll deadpans.
I frown. “But if the valkyries’ whole mission is to protect Kvirr’s children, this betrayal story doesn’t add up.”
“Some say their ego is to blame. They wanted to honour that title so badly, they pretended to work with Nekros, but got played themselves,” Caleb says, as if it doesn’t sound far-fetched at all.
I laugh dryly, the sound ricocheting off the walls, alerting the patrons. “That’s complete crap.”
“Careful, darling,” Wyll warns, straightening up. “Some people eat that crap up like candy.”
“Do you believe it?” I lean in, eyes sharp.
Only then do I realize that the air has become still, the library being way too quiet.
“I only believe what I know for sure,” he says, locking his golden eyes with me. The weight of the others’ stares burns my skin. “So I’m still figuring it out,” Wyll adds straight back.
He just threw me a lifeline, making it clear maybe I’m not a conspiracy nut or worse, a traitor. I need to be more clever and wary, like Ruby so carefully warned me.
“I’m gonna find something to read,” I say, grabbing a few books to put back. Heart’s racing, I get out of sight.
This was definitely a close call. Wyll might have my back, maybe. It’s subtle, but it’s something. Caleb? He’s all about facts and data, so no hard feelings there. And I don’t really know him, from what I figured, he seems like a practical guy.
I wander off, my fingers trailing on the cold stone wall, and suddenly the patterns feel familiar, like déjà vu.
Me, running around, playing hide and seek. Phantoms of hidden pasts dance in front of my eyes. Two children running in the library, Alek and I.
28
Kai
AN EPIDEMIC
Wylland I square off in the training yard. The air is already thick with that storm-before-the-storm energy. Clouds roll overhead, casting long shadows that stretch across the lawn as if they’ve got a score to settle. We’ve trained together for years, so we don’t say a word; we don’t need to. The second our eyes lock, it’s on.
Wyll moves first. Fast, sharp, no wasted motion. His punches come in as thunder. Each one testing my guard, trying to break through. I grit my teeth, slip a few, block the rest, and answer back with kicks that snap through the air, aiming to throw him off balance. The sound of fists landing echoes through the yard, brutal and loud.
No tricks, just raw power and hard-earned skills. Every move is calculated, but it still feels wild. Both riding that edge where control meets chaos, no time to think, muscle memory takes over. Instinct got the wheel now, and I’m riding the high, adrenaline hammering through my veins. My heart is pounding loud enough to drown out everything else. Our lycan blood stirring beneath the skin, turning every movement sharper, faster.
Then I see it, a slip in his stance, only a flicker. I don’t think, I move. There’s no space for hesitation, no mercy. This isn’t just training, it’s preparation for the war waiting just beyond the horizon. Because there’s always one. And I land it, one clean hit, sharp and decisive. Wyll reels back, footing tripping. I don’t give him a second to recover. Closing the distance fast, I give him a final punch on his sternum. Wyll hits the mat with a heavy thud that rings out.
I might be the next alpha, but Wyll? He’s right on my heels. And I wouldn’t want it any other way. Chest heaving, sweat burning in my eyes, I reach out a hand. He grabs it without missing a beat, laughing like we didn’t just try to beat the hell out of each other. I can’t help but laugh too, because yeah, that’s just how we are. Built for the fight, bound by it, and the small perks are to blow off some steam simultaneously.
“Damn, you didn’t need to go that hard, man,” Wyll says as he rubs his chest.
“Just say you can’t handle the heat.”
“Oh shut up, that’s not what I said.”
"Where'd you disappear off with Avilyna earlier?" I ask, unable to keep the edge of curiosity from slipping in, as we head toward the outdoor weight rack.
“She needed a book,” Wyll replies casually. “Said she wanted a distraction and something for an assignment.”
“Oh yeah?” I glance over as we start loading up the bench press.“What kind of assignment?”
"The Bloodmoon War," he says, his voice a little quieter now as he adds the third plate.
I always appreciate that we can train outside, no matter the weather. My favourite time is when it rains. The water gathers above us, stopping right where theNaqshrune is etched. It holds the rain in place, then guides it off to the side as a waterfall spilling over an invisible dome.
