Chapter 8

Freya

   Three days after I arrived in Thornfield, Mira found me behind the main hall splitting wood with a dull axe and too much determination. No one had asked me to, if I was being honest, no one had asked me anything,but I hated myself for being idle so I decided to get something doing. 

“You hold it like you’re trying to punish the wood,” she observed. “Should I be worried?” 

I didn't answer immediately. Instead, I drove the blade down again and it stuck halfway through the log.

“I am,” I said. “Are you worried?” 

“No.” She snorted softly, a hint of a smile on her lips. “but that's good, I guess. Come inside. I want to examine you properly.”

“What?” I straightened, brushing hair out of my face. “You already did.”

“I made sure you weren’t dying,” she replied. “That is not the same thing.”

There was something in her tone, measured and deliberate, that made me set the axe aside without argument.

“Is something wrong?” I asked as we walked. “Did I do something?” 

“If something were wrong, I would have said so,” she answered. “But I prefer facts over assumptions, and right now, I have assumptions.”

I wasn't sure what her intentions were with those words, but best believe, they did not comfort me.

Mira's clinic was tucked into the back corner of one of the sturdier buildings. It was small, but it was immaculate, with shelves lining the walls, filled with labeled jars and neatly folded linens. A narrow examination table sat beneath a window that let in a square of morning light.

While the rest of Thornfield was practical and unpolished, this room was precise.

“Sit,” Mira said.

I did, without hesitationg too. 

She began with my pregnancy. Her hands were cool and steady as she examined my abdomen, listening, measuring, and counting quietly under her breath.

“Well?” I asked when the silence stretched too long.

“The baby is fine,” she said without looking up. “Strong heartbeat. Exactly where I would expect at five weeks.”

Relief loosened something inside me that I had not admitted was clenched.

“Five weeks,” I repeated.

“Yes.” she nodded and I immediately remembered, that window again. Before I would dwell on it for too long, I told myself to not let my thoughts go there.

“Now that that's done.” Mira finished her checks and stepped back. “Now I want blood.”

I blinked. “Blood?”

“A small sample.” She was already reaching for a vial. “You’ve had a bond rejection, a sealed wolf awakening, and a pregnancy. I would like to know what your body is actually doing.”

“Okay.” I hesitated only a second before offering my arm.

“If this is where you tell me I’m dying,” I said lightly, “I would prefer you not soften it.”

“You don't say.” Mira’s mouth twitched. “If you were dying, you would not be standing upright arguing with me.”

I wasn't a fan of needles, not this one was quick and efficient. In the blink of an eye, she filled the vial and pressed cloth to my skin, then she lifted the glass toward the window.

I wasn't sure what I expected to happen, but I didn't foresee her going completely still.

Not thoughtful, not calculating, but still. 

“Mira?” I said, my voice trembling lightly, but she didn’t answer.

The light caught the blood, turning it dark and almost luminous at the edges. I watched her expression change, not in fear exactly, but recognition.

“What is wrong?” My voice sharpened.

“Nothing is wrong,” she said automatically.

“That is not the stillness of ‘nothing is wrong.’” I shot back. “Talk to me.” 

She lowered the vial slowly and set it on the table with deliberate care, then she crossed to the bookshelf.

It took her longer than it should have to choose a book. Her fingers hovered before settling on a very old, very worn text. The leather binding was cracked, the pages were yellowed and thin, and when she carried it like something fragile,I swung my legs off the table and stood.

“Mira.” I called out again. “talk to me.” 

“Patience,” she said quietly, already flipping through pages. “If I am correct, I would prefer to confirm it before I speak.”

My pulse began to thud in my ears. She flipped through the pages for a while, then she stopped on a page halfway through the book and laid it flat beside the vial. Her eyes moved between the text and the blood in the light.

Back and forth, and back and forth. The silence stretched so long it became unbearable.

“Mira,” I said again, softer this time. “You’re frightening me.”

Her gaze finally lifted to mine.

“Your blood carries ancient markers,” she said.

“What are you talking about?” I frowned. “Ancient markers.”

“The kind that appear in wolves from bloodlines that existed before the current pack structure was formed.” Her voice was steady, clinical. “Before councils, before kings.”

The words landed heavily.

“That doesn’t make sense,” I said. “My wolf didn’t even manifest until weeks ago.”

Mira’s eyes sharpened.

“Yes,” she said. “About that.”

“What about that?” A cold feeling crept up my spine.

“Your bloodline is not defective, Freya.” She closed the book gently. “It was never defective.”

“But—”The room felt smaller as I stutter and swallowed. “I was tested. More than once.”

“I’m sure you were,” she replied. “And I am also certain those tests showed exactly what someone wanted them to show.”

My hands went cold.

“What are you saying?”

“Freya.” She stepped closer, lowering her voice though we were alone. “Someone sealed your wolf when you were very young.”

The words did not make sense at first, but still, they kept echoing in my head. 

Sealed.

“That’s not possible,” I whispered.

“It is very possible.” Her gaze was unwavering. “And it would have required significant power and knowledge to perform. This was not an accident, and it was not a weak manifestation. It was suppression.”

“But .but…” The air left my lungs. “But why? For what purpose?”

“To hide you,” she said simply.

My mind reeled backward through years of whispers.

I'd been called barren, wolfless, defective and even a liability, all because someone wanted me to be known that way.

I was still deep in thoughts when Eliza stirred sharply inside me. She wasn't s sred or afraid, but she was furious. 

“Hide me from what?” I asked.

“From what you are,” Mira answered. “And from what your bloodline represents.”

I let out a strained laugh. “And what exactly does my bloodline represent?”

Her jaw tightened slightly.

“Power that predates the systems currently in place,” she said. “Power that does not answer to councils or kings.”

The room seemed to tilt.

“That’s not…” I shook my head. “That’s not something you can just say.”

“I am not speculating,” she replied. “The markers are there. They're old and rare, but recognizable.”

My heart pounded harder now, not with fear but with something electric.

“You’re telling me,” I said slowly, “that I was sealed because someone was afraid of me.”

“Yes.”

The word was soft, as a growl rolled low in my chest. Eliza surged forward, fully awake in an instant, her presence expanding like a flame catching oxygen.

The feeling was heated,like a door had been slammed in her face for years and she had only just realized it.

They locked us away.

The thought wasn’t words exactly. It was emotion, hot and furious.

“Who would do that?” I demanded as my hands turned into fists. 

“Someone with access,” Mira said. “Someone with authority. Someone who benefited from you appearing weak.”

The implications bloomed outward like cracks in glass. My childhood, the early tests, the careful pity, he way certain elders had always looked at me, not with disappointment, but with calculation.

It had all been intentional. 

“Do not tell anyone outside Thornfield that you are here,” Mira said suddenly.

I blinked at her. “What?”

“Not yet.”

“Why?”

“Because the people who sealed you did it because they were afraid of you.” Her eyes hardened. “And frightened people with power are the most dangerous kind.”

The truth of it settled into my bones.

They had not pitied me, they had managed me.

“All these years,” I said quietly. “They let me believe I was broken.”

“Yes, dear.” Mira’s voice softened just a fraction. “They needed you to believe that.”

Silence fell between us.

I pressed my hand over my chest, feeling Eliza there, stronger than she had been yesterday, stronger than she had been at the ceremony.

.

“They were afraid,” I murmured.

“Yes.”

If they had sealed me, if they had lied, then everything built on that lie was unstable.

I looked at Mira.

“What happens if the seal is truly gone?”

Her gaze did not waver.

“Then,” she said calmly, “the people who feared you as a child will have far more reason to fear you now.”

Eliza did not growl this time. She smiled, and for the first time, so did I. Whoever they were, they had no idea what was coming for them.