Chapter #4 A Home Between Worlds

Emara Dell POV

Somewhere in the Nightfall Range

The trees swallowed us whole.

Snow muffled our footsteps, branches caught moonlight in thin silver threads overhead, and the deeper we walked, the more the mountain felt like it was exhaling us away from BloodFang.

Which was exactly what I wanted.

“Em,” Rowan said quietly at my side, “we cannot run forever.”

“I can try,” I muttered.

He huffed a soft laugh but his gaze stayed serious. Silver glinted in his eyes now, the goddess’s blessing sitting there like a second soul.

“Nyra did not pull us back from death so we could go play house in the woods forever,” he said. “She asked us to restore balance. That means at some point we go back. To Corvin. To the Veegas. To the pack.”

My stomach twisted.

“I am not ready to look at him,” I whispered. “Not yet.”

“I know.” Rowan slipped his gloved fingers through mine. “So we hide first. We heal. We train. We become so powerful that when we do go back, they cannot touch us except to kneel.”

That thought, at least, I could breathe around.

“Fine,” I said. “We find somewhere safe. We rest. Then we decide how to ruin their lives.”

“Now you are talking like a Luna,” he said, lips curving.

We kept walking. The border scent line of BloodFang hit my nose like a slap. The old me would have hesitated, terrified of punishment. The new me stepped over it without looking back. The air felt different on the other side. Lighter. Colder. Honest.

No more orders. No more ranks. No more pretending I was grateful to be nothing.

We walked until my legs ached and Rowan’s breath fogged heavier in the air. The sun dragged itself higher behind a blanket of clouds, turning everything into a muted gray world.

“Look,” Rowan said at last, pointing ahead.

Half sunken into a rise of earth sat a shack. The roof sagged, the door hung sideways on one hinge, windows were broken, and the chimney leaned at a worrying angle.

It looked like it had given up sometime around 1920. I loved it on sight.

“It is miserable,” Rowan announced.

“It is perfect,” I corrected.

He side-eyed me. “You have a type. Unloved things.”

“And what do I do with them, Rowan?”

He sighed, softly and fondly. “You make them better.”

“Exactly.”

I stepped forward, my palms tingling. Shadowfire rose under my skin, warm and eager.

“Stand back.”

“Oh no,” he said, already grinning. “I want front row seats.”

I lifted my hands.

Magic poured out of me like ink in water, black and silver and soft. It flowed over the shack, seeping into every rotten board and crumbling stone. The roof straightened with a low groan. Cracks knit together. Glass grew across the window frames in smooth sheets that caught the light like frozen moonlight.

The crooked door shuddered, then eased itself into place with a firm, dignified click. By the time the magic settled, the shack looked like a small, sturdy cabin nestled in the trees. Not fancy. Not grand.

But solid and safe. Ours.

Rowan clapped, his eyes wide. “I cannot wait to see what your glow up does for my face.”

“Be serious,” I said, though I was smiling.

“Absolutely not,” he replied.

Inside, the air smelled like dust and old cedar. Broken furniture lay in heaps in the corners, and cobwebs claimed every beam.

A whisper and a flick of my fingers sent shadows swirling through the room. They gathered dust, tossed broken pieces aside, swept the floor, scrubbed the soot out of the stone hearth. In moments, the cabin was bare and clean, ready to be claimed.

“Go hunt,” I told Rowan. “We need food. I will do the domestic witchery.”

He pressed a hand to his chest. “You trust me to provide. I am honored.”

“Bring back something with meat on it and I might even bless your eyebrows,” I said.

He snorted and stepped outside, shifting mid stride. One second Rowan, the next a massive silver wolf, his fur shimmering like forged moon steel. He disappeared into the trees.

I worked.

Shadowfire warmed the stone hearth until it glowed faintly. I coaxed planks from the walls into two simple bed frames, then padded them with layered moss, blankets, and furs I pulled from storage crates that had long since been abandoned by some forgotten hunter. I wove low level warming charms into both beds, murmuring words Nyra had pressed into my bones.

Protection sigils bloomed along the doorway and under the windowsills in silver ink. A ward web stretched out around the cabin, subtle and strong, warning me of anything that stepped too close with ill intent.

When Rowan returned with three rabbits and snow in his fur, the cabin already felt like it was exhaling in relief.

He shifted back to human, thankfully behind the door this time, and dressed in the clothes I summoned for him earlier.

We skinned the rabbits together, sitting side by side at the table that my shadows had repaired. I chopped roots and wild onions, plus a handful of herbs I gathered from under the snow with a little coaxing magic. Rowan set stones in a circle and I heated them with magic, laying the pot over them.

The smell of rabbit stew slowly filled the room.

By the time we ate, my whole body felt bone deep tired in a way that was not just physical.

We had died. We had come back. We had run.

Now, for a single fragile moment, we could simply sit.

Rowan slumped back on his chair after his second bowl, patting his stomach. “If anyone ever calls you useless again, tell them your best friend nearly wept over your stew.”

I smiled with my hands cupped around my own bowl. “We made this place real.”

“We did.” He glanced around, his voice softening. “Emara, this is the first place that has ever felt like it was ours.”

“No Alpha,” I said quietly.

“No pack,” he added.

“No one calling us names.”

“No one telling us who we are allowed to love.”

We fell into a comfortable silence. Suddenly I felt something, almost like a bond in my chest. It was slow and deep. It felt ancient.

This wasn't Corvin. This was something older, colder, and stranger. My skin prickled.

Rowan watched my expression carefully. “What is it?"

“I'm not sure,” I admitted. “It feels like a bond. But it feels so far away. It feels focused. Like he is a bloodhound stalking a scent.”

“Is he your enemy?” Rowan asked.

I listened to the bond. To the faint, fierce warmth hidden beneath all that ancient wildness.

“No,” I said slowly. “He feels like… home I have never been to.”

Rowan dragged a hand down his face. “If destiny is shipping you off to some ancient mystery wolf, he better be disgustingly hot.”

I threw a pillow at his head. He dodged, laughing.

We finished the stew. We hung spare blankets. We checked the wards one more time. Then we sat side by side on one of the beds, our shoulders touching, listening to the fire crackle.

“We are free,” I said.

“For now,” Rowan replied. “Free and chosen.”

I swallowed around the sudden lump in my throat.

“I do not ever want to go back,” I whispered.

Rowan threaded his fingers through mine.

“Then we do not go back,” he said, “until we are the kind of monsters they should be afraid of.”

I leaned my head on his shoulder as the bonds inside my chest hummed. One to the goddess. One to my Silver Wolf.

....and one far away and growing closer with every heartbeat.

__________________________

Fenric the Bone Wolf POV

Far Eastern Wastes

Darkness had been my only companion for so long that time itself had lost meaning.

My tomb was carved into ancient ice, deep beneath the frozen cliffs. I had lain there unmoving, a massive white wolf curled in eternal sleep, my bone horns tucked along my skull, frost spiderwebbed across my fur.

I had gone to sleep with my heart torn out.

My mate died in fire and betrayal centuries ago, ripped from my side by those who feared what we could be. I had begged Nyra to let me die too. To end me. To stop the hollow ache that swallowed my every breath.

She refused. Instead, she touched her hand to my muzzle and whispered, “Sleep. When her soul returns, you will wake.”

So I slept. Until now. A heartbeat rippled through the void. Not mine.

Hers.

My eyes snapped open, blazing pale blue in the dark. The frost encasing my body cracked and fell away in shards.

I rose slowly, feeling my bones shift and my muscles coil with power I hadn’t held for lifetimes.

There she was in the air, faint but unmistakable. A thread of warmth cutting through the cold. A pulse of her soul, like soft snow landing on my tongue.

My mate. Reborn. Breathing again.

A growl rumbled from deep in my chest, shaking ice from the ceiling. The moonlight split through the cavern as if the world itself bent to make way for her.

Nyra stepped through the light. Radiant. Terrible. My creator and my judge.

“Fenric,” she said, her voice vibrating through stone and bone. “Bone Wolf. Death-bound guardian. My ancient son of frost and shadow.”

I bowed my head, my horns scraping the ice.

“Why do you wake me, goddess,” I growled, “if not to let me destroy something?”

Her eyes burned brighter.

“She has returned.”

My pulse stuttered. My breath stopped. My soul snapped into direction.

“My mate,” I said.

“Your mate,” Nyra confirmed. “Her soul has taken new flesh. A new life. A new name. And she has suffered.”

Cold fury slid over my skin like a second pelt.

“What have they done?” I demanded.

Nyra’s voice dropped to a feral whisper.

“They mocked her softness. They shamed the body I built for her. They beat her, bled her, and left her to die in the snow.”

A snarl ripped out of me, violent enough to shake the chamber.

“Where,” I growled, “are they.”

“The Nightfall Range,” she answered. “A pack corrupted by cruelty. BloodFang. They broke what they were meant to cherish.”

I could taste their scent in her words. Sour. Weak. Pathetic.

“And now,” Nyra said, stepping closer, “she is my Shadow Luna reborn. And she walks the world with the Silver Wolf at her side.”

I inhaled, catching the whisper of that silver wolf on her skin. Loyal. Fierce. A good choice.

I would not kill him. Probably.

“How far is she from me?” I asked.

“Two days,” Nyra said. “If you do not stop.”

“I will not stop,” I answered.

Her gaze softened for a fleeting heartbeat, as if remembering how broken I was the last time she saw me alive.

“In your past life,” she said quietly, “you were wronged as deeply as she is now. Your love was pure. Your devotion was punished. The cruelty that tore your world apart has risen again in theirs.”

Exactly the reminder I needed. Fire and ash. Screams. Blood splattering snow. I remembered every moment.

“I gave you sleep,” Nyra said. “I waited for her soul to return. And now I give you what was always yours.”

She stepped back, her hair swirling like a storm.

“Go to her, Fenric,” she said. “She needs you. She will not understand the bond yet. But she will feel you. She will know you are hers.”

Something in my chest cracked open. Not pain. Hope. And hunger. Nyra’s lips curved into a strange, savage smile.

“And if you were to remove from existence anyone who dared to harm her… anyone who laughed at her pain or spat on her worth… I would be most pleased.”

A slow, vicious grin curled across my face.

“Then consider me eager to please,” I said.

My vow tore itself from my soul:

“I will destroy anything that ever made her feel an ounce of pain. I will kill it. Burn it. Break it. I will hunt every insult from her memory. And I will make it so the only thing she ever fears again is how completely I love her.”

Nyra vanished in a burst of light. The cavern fell silent. I took a single breath. Then I ran.

Ice exploded under my paws as I shot across the tundra, a blur of white fur and bone and blue fire. The world streaked by, in ribbons of frost and shadow. My lungs burned. My muscles roared.

But I did not stop. I chased the thread of her soul across mountains and forests. With every stride, I thought of her.

Her new body, soft and strong. Her tears, shed alone in the snow. Her mouth, her scent, and her pulse calling me like a war drum. The moment she would see me and know that I was hers.

They took her first life. They mocked her second form. They dared to make her beg for death.

I would make them beg for mercy. And I would deny it.

Two days, the goddess said. Two days until I reached her.

But even the moon itself could not keep me from her if she needed me sooner.

I lowered my head, my horns cutting the wind, and pushed myself faster.

My mate waited in the Nightfall Range.

And nothing in existence would keep me from her.