And when she does, we'll be right beside her.
Chapter 34
Torben
The desolate landscapeof what was once the birthplace of my mate sends a chill down my spine. The hairs on my arms stand on edge. This isolated farm, long forgotten like the main village, carries an air of abandonment.
But beneath the surface of this collapsed farmhouse, something more sinister lingers.
Large claw marks, etched into what remains of the standing structures, tell a tale of violence and chaos. Deep gouges speak of a creature unleashed on a rampage, hunting with a ferocity that left its mark on every surface.
I keep a running tally of the damage, each scar a testament to the strength of the entity that once terrorized this place. It becomes clear that the creature that attacked was formidable—possibly even stronger than I am when I shift.
The realization adds a layer of terror to the mystery we're unraveling.
Feray, grappling with the weight of her past, discovered a blanket bearing what was intended to be her name: Thyra,meaning thunder. Perhaps my beautiful mate was born during a horrible thunderstorm, and it inspired her name. The last name—a connection to the elder gods and the lands beyond the frozen mountains of the north—makes me wonder which of the northern packs her bloodline hails from.
The changing hue of Feray's coat also captivates my attention. Now a pure white. I recall lessons from my past, where some animals adapt their fur color from brown to white as winter approaches, using it as camouflage.
I'm starting to suspect that come spring, Feray's fur may transform, taking on the qualities of a timber wolf. The change will help her blend seamlessly with the landscape.
"Feray, come look at this." Diaval calls her over, and she looks up at me expectantly.
Smiling, I bend down and help my beautiful mate stand as she cradles Easton's growing phoenix chick to her chest. In front of Diaval is a smaller trunk, its top ripped off. It's filled with baby clothing and blankets.
Feray carefully sets Easton down and pulls items out one at a time, examining each. She sniffs every piece, and sometimes a small smile crosses her lips. I can tell when she finds an item with a tiny bit of scent remaining.
A soft rumble escapes her lips, and she sets those items aside.
"We found this." Khal offers her a picture.
The same red-headed woman from before is in this image. Feray dives into her bag, pulls the other picture out, and compares the two.
"It's her." Her voice is barely audible. Her hands tremble, holding the two pictures side by side.
Her eyes become fixed on the image of the family. I sit down and pull her into my lap.
Tentatively, she touches the man's face, then looks up at Diaval. "Do you think this is my dad?"
The uncertainty in her voice gets my bear's attention. We become hyper-fixated on her micro-tells, waiting to see when she needs us to shore her up.
Something protective and fierce rises in my chest. She looks so young right now. So vulnerable.
Diaval clears his throat and draws a deep breath. "From what the evidence points to, I can safely assume these are your parents and that's you in the image."
His tone is different from when he's completely sure of something. I stare up into his eyes, almost challenging him. The minute Feray's gaze drops to the image in her hand, he double-blinks at me.
Khal mouths:They'll tell me later.
With a quick dip of my head, I acknowledge what they're telling me. Diaval suspects something he's not ready to share with Feray.
This can either be very good or very bad. Given how this town looks, I have a sinking feeling it will not be good news.
"You look a lot like your mom, little wolf," I whisper softly.
A soft laugh escapes her lips. "I definitely have her hair. Bright red and completely unmanageable." Another chuckle as shestudies the photo. "My dad is handsome. I can see why mom chose him. He looks strong, like you."
She leans back and nuzzles my cheek before kissing it.
