The Names We Fight For

As everyone studied the ancient altar, Lyra’s voice broke the silence.

“I never realized…”

Kael looked at her. “What?”

She smiled sadly.

“We never officially named them.”

That caught me off guard.

She was right.

Somehow, between the war, Serena, rebuilding kingdoms, and learning how to be parents, we’d fallen into calling them our boys, the twins, little wolves. The names we’d whispered to them as babies had never been spoken before our people.

I reached into the pouch at my belt.

Inside were two tiny silver pendants I’d commissioned months ago but never found the right moment to give them.

One was carved into the shape of a wolf’s head.

The other bore the crescent mark of the ancient Lycans.

“I had these made,” I admitted quietly.

Lyra looked at me, surprised.

“You did?”

I nodded.

“I kept waiting for the right day.”

Kael glanced at the pendants before looking back at me.

“What are their names?”

I smiled despite the ache in my chest.

“The eldest…”

I closed my hand around the wolf pendant.

“Fenrir.”

Lyra repeated it softly, almost tasting the name.

“Fenrir…”

“It suits him.”

I lifted the second pendant.

“And his little brother…”

“…Orion.”

A small smile finally reached Lyra’s eyes.

“Fenrir and Orion.”

She looked toward the forest where they had disappeared.

“We’re coming for you.”

Kael rested a hand over the pendants.

“We’ll bring Fenrir and Orion home.”

For a brief moment, the silence felt different.

Not empty.

Hopeful.

Because they finally had names.

And somehow…

Calling them by those names made them feel even closer, as though the world itself would remember them.