Chapter #6 The Dream

Emara Dell POV

Rogue Cabin

Day Two

I woke to the smell of eggs sizzling in a pan and Rowan muttering something about “needing more salt but also not wanting to walk outside and freeze his gay nipples off.”

It made me smile before my eyes even opened.

Sunlight spilled through the cabin window, pale and soft, and the fire from last night still burned low in the hearth. My body felt… different. Lighter. More aware. Like every muscle had been tuned to the exact frequency of the earth.

Rowan set a plate in my lap, flopping onto his bed with dramatic exhaustion.

“Eat. Morana keeps whispering that you’re going to faint if you try training on an empty stomach.”

Morana hummed in my mind, warm and amused. “He listens better than you ever did.”

“I heard that,” I muttered.

Rowan perked up instantly, his eyes widening, and his posture stiffening. Then he clutched his temples like someone pressed a cold hand into his skull.

“Rowan?” I straightened.

His breath hitched. “Oh shit. Oh shit. There’s...there’s someone in my head who is not me.”

Then a new voice filled the cabin. Smooth. Cold. Powerful.

“Rowan Vale,” it said, “if you do not calm down, you will hyperventilate and die again.”

Rowan screamed. “NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. WHO ARE YOU? I already died ONCE. I do not have it in me to do this again.”

I shoved food into my mouth so I wouldn’t laugh. He looked like a startled squirrel.

The voice sighed deeply.

“I am Varin, the Silver Wolf who lives within you. Your Guardian spirit. And gods help me, you are dramatic.”

Morana snorted in my mind. “This will be entertaining.”

Rowan glared at me. “Don’t you dare laugh. I swear to Nyra I’ll shift and shed on your bed.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

Varin cut in again, firm and commanding. “Both of you. Outside. Now. Training begins.”

Morana echoed him. “He is right, cub. You must learn what your body can do.”

I exchanged a look with Rowan, equal parts dread and excitement, and we grabbed our cloaks, stepping out into the cold morning air.

Frost coated the clearing like sugar. The sky was bright, small sunbeams filtering through the pines. Rowan stomped into the snow.

“So what, we stretch? Jumping jacks? Shadow magic pilates?”

Varin groaned. “Shift.”

Rowan gasped. “I...what? Now? In front of the rabbits? That feels indecent.”

“Rowan,” I laughed softly, “just do it.”

He took a breath, let it out slowly, and silver fire shimmered around him. His body bent, twisted, and reshaped.

A tall, massive silver wolf stood before me, his eyes glowing like moonlit lakes. His fur rippled like living metal.

Even Morana let out a small appreciative rumble.

“He is magnificent.”

Varin responded smugly. “Obviously.”

Rowan’s wolf, Varin, tilted his head at me. “Your turn, Shadow Luna.”

Morana’s presence surged in my bones, fierce and protective.

“Call me.”

I inhaled. The shift swallowed me whole.

Fur erupted from my skin, black as deep night with veins of silver flame swirling along my spine. When my paws hit the ground, shadowfire curled around them like a living halo.

Rowan stumbled back and yelped in awe.

“Holy shit Emara!” he barked through the mental link. “Look at you!”

Morana surged forward in my mind, proud and sharp.

“This is your first form,” she explained. “Your strength. Your bite. Your shield. In this body you will tear through armies.”

Images flickered in my head:

• me barreling through enemies like a meteor

• shadowfire coating my fur like armor

• my howl cracking stone

• lies burning away in my gaze

My chest swelled with something fierce. Next, Morana guided me gently.

“Call your mind.”

I shifted again, my bones hollowing, feathers sweeping out, and air catching beneath new wings. A crow burst from the shadows, sleek and swift, circling Rowan’s head.

“Your second form,” Morana said. “Sight. Strategy. Stealth. The crow sees truths others hide. She slips between shadows and hears secrets even the wind cannot carry.”

When I landed, I shifted once more, and this time I felt sly warmth ripple through me. My body elongated, lightened, and reshaped into a small, sleek black fox with silver-tipped fur.

Rowan howled in joy. “I can’t handle this! You’re a wolf, a crow, and a fox!? What the fuck!”

Morana preened. “The fox is your cunning. Your speed. Your ability to slip between the breaths of the world. She is the knife hidden behind the smile.”

I darted through Rowan’s legs, reappearing behind him.

He shrieked. “STOP DOING THAT. IT IS ILLEGAL.”

We trained like that for hours.

Rowan healed small cuts on trees and rocks, glowing silver. I lifted boulders with shadow tendrils. Varin taught Rowan how to sense life within a mile radius. Morana taught me to shape shadowfire into weapons, shields, even illusions of light.

By midday, we collapsed into the snow, panting and sweaty.

Rowan rolled onto his back. “We are gods.”

“We’re barely competent,” I corrected.

“Semantics.”

Morana softened. “You are both learning faster than expected. But power without purpose is chaos. You are to bring balance, not destruction.”

Varin added, “Cruelty has ruled too long. You will end that era.”

I swallowed hard, emotion tightening my throat.

“I don’t want to hurt innocents.”

“You won’t,” Morana promised. “But you will burn the wicked.”

Rowan grabbed my hand as we lay together in the snow.

“We’ll figure this out. Together.”

“Together,” I whispered.

We spent the rest of the day planning, not slaughter, but justice. Warnings. Exile. Punishments tailored to sins. Mercy for those who deserved it. Pain for those who earned it.

By sunset, we were exhausted, warm stew in our bellies, and wrapped in blankets near the fire. Rowan hummed softly, half asleep, and Morana settled deep in my mind, content.

My eyes drifted closed, and the dream world swallowed me whole. Shadows curled around me like a lover’s hands.

And he was there.

Tall. Muscled. Silver hair glowing like starlight. Horns curling from his temples. Eyes like lightning frozen in glass. He stepped out of the shadows, and I couldn't breathe. he was fucking magnificent. I had never seen a man so beautiful.

“Emara,” he whispered, his voice low enough to melt the ice, “I am coming for you.”

My heart skipped.

“Who… who are you?”

His smile was slow, dangerous, and reverent.

“I am yours.”

His fingers brushed my jaw. My breath hitched. Heat immediately pooled between my legs and I clenched my thighs instinctively. The scent of my arousal perfumed the air and he sniffed twice, and his grin was pure sin.

“And when I reach you,” he murmured, his lips grazing mine, “you won’t run. I will show you what it means to burn alive, my love.”

Heat exploded through my body, and I woke up shaking and breathless, my heart pounding with a bond that felt so close I swore he could hear it too.

And somewhere across the mountains…I felt him moving closer.

_________________________

Fenric POV

Near the Nightfall Range

I woke with a snarl tearing out of my throat.

Her scent clung to my skin. Warm. Soft. Shadow-kissed. A whisper of her power still hummed against my lips from the dream where I touched her… where she touched me.

Emara. My mate. My second chance.

I inhaled deeply, letting the world fill my lungs. The snow glittered silver with moonlight, and beneath it, her scent threaded through the earth like a heartbeat.

Close. Closer than ever.

I rose to my feet, the cold wind whipping against my horns and hair, and shifted. Bone cracked. Muscle stretched. The world sharpened into crystal clarity.

Four massive paws hit the earth, and my skeletal white wolf form thundered across the mountain, my breath streaming icy blue, shadows parting before me.

I ran until the Nightfall Range came into view, jagged and cruel against the sky.

Her old home. Her prison. I slowed. Her scent was here. Faint. Hurt. Blood. And woven with it… the stink of the Veegas.

My lips peeled back from my teeth. They touched what is mine. They made her bleed. They mocked her body. They shattered her spirit. They killed her. And they fucking laughed.

A low growl vibrated from my ribs as I stalked closer to the pack’s border. Wolves patrolled the ridge, two guards were pacing, obviously bored, and talking shit like cowards who had never tasted real fear.

“Fat little thing,” one snorted.

“Should’ve died years ago,” said the other.

My vision bled white. I stepped from the shadows. They didn’t even have time to scream. It was not a long kill. But it was a loud one. Deliberate, and educational.

When their bodies hit the snow, I shifted back to human form and knelt beside them, arranging the corpses as the old rituals demanded, palms open to the moon, and heads tilted toward the goddess.

Then, gently, I set three deep-purple moonflowers across their chests. An offering. A warning. A vow.

I slid a piece of leather between the flowers and pressed my scent into it. My handwriting carved itself into the surface with a pulse of blue flame.

For Emara.

Hurt her, mock her, touch her, or speak her name with cruelty…and you will beg me for death before it comes.

—F.

I stood, letting the wind take my scent east. Toward her. Toward my mate. Her bond pulsed again, soft, frightened, and hopeful. I bared my teeth in a smile that tasted like destiny and blood.

“I’m coming, Emara,” I whispered into the night. “And the world will kneel before you… or burn.”

Then I ran again, faster than before, and the mountain trembled beneath my paws.

Because I was close now.

So close I could almost hear her heartbeat.

And I would not stop until she was in my arms.