Chapter forty four: Don't take away mine

Finnick’s POV

I couldn’t stop shaking even when the sun rose, when Freya’s hand found mine again, I still felt cold inside. Like something had opened in me and let all the warmth out.

Because it wasn’t just a dream anymore. It wasn’t just fear.

Something was living inside me. Not a shadow or a memory but a soul,  not just any soul—Veyrix.

But it didn’t make sense. He was dead. She killed him. I saw it.

Didn’t I?

Freya sat beside me as we waited for the elders. Her fingers were tight around mine. Too tight. Like if she let go, I might vanish.

We were both quiet. What could we even say?We’d seen each other’s past lives. Watched each other die. And now we were left in the middle of a question we couldn’t answer.

Was I… him?

No, Not Veyrix but maybe someone worse. The one who made him become a monster. The one who broke him in the first place. The council sat in a circle of stone.

Taron stood behind Freya, quiet and grim. Sura the oracle was there too, her long braids wound with silver feathers. Her eyes followed me like she could see through my skin.

Freya told them everything.

The cub, the dreams, the voice and sleep-speaking. The soulwalking.

By the time she finished, everyone was silent.

Then Sura spoke. Her voice was smooth but strong.

“There are curses that fade with time. And then there are soul oaths. Wounds left on the spirit that pass from one life to the next.”

I swallowed.

“You believe I’m carrying his curse?” I asked.

Sura shook her head slowly. “No, Alpha. What you carry is deeper than a curse.”

She stood and walked toward me. Her fingertips glowed faintly.

“You are the first reincarnate I’ve seen in centuries.”

My heart pounded. “What does that mean?”

She placed two fingers over my chest. “It means your soul has lived before. Many times. You’ve forgotten… until now.”

I couldn’t breathe.

“But I’m me,” I said. “I have my memories, my life, my pack, my choices.”

“You are Finnick,” Sura said gently. “But you were also someone else. A wolf whose betrayal started a war, whose grief shaped the world.”

“And now?” Freya asked, her voice shaking. “What happens now?”

Sura looked between us. “That depends on what he does next.” The next few days passed like fog.

Freya barely left my side. We spoke only in pieces. I could feel her fear, not of the past—but of me.

And I couldn’t blame her. What if Veyrix wasn’t the true evil?

What if the beginning of this curse had started with me?

What if, in another life, I had loved her and destroyed her? Was I bound to do it again?

The cub returned on the fourth night. We were near the river, just watching the stars reflect in the water.

Freya had started to laugh again, just once. A small sound that broke the silence like sunlight through clouds. I looked at her and thought maybe we can still have this. Maybe fate doesn’t win this time.

Then we heard it, tiny paws on wet leaves, the cub stepped into view. Freya tensed but didn’t run. It stood there for a moment, head tilted.

Then its eyes turned to me and they were glowing again.

But not with gold.

This time—blue, my color suddenly, I felt dizzy.

Freya knelt down. “What do you want from us?”

The cub looked at her and then back at me. And it said one word, clear and soft:

“Father.”

Freya gasped.

I stepped back. “No. That’s not possible.” The cub took another step.

“Not by blood,” it whispered. “By soul.” I dropped to my knees. Because suddenly, I remembered something.

Not a dream and truth but a child.

A small boy with pale fur and silver eyes. Reaching up to me in an old life. My son. His name lost to time. A life destroyed before it could grow.

“I failed him,” I whispered.

Freya put a hand on my shoulder. “You didn’t know.”

“I  chose to forget,” I said. “Because I couldn’t live with it.”

She turned to the cub. “Why are you here now?”

The cub’s eyes shimmered. “Because the past is waking.”

“What do you mean?” The cub looked up at the stars.

Then said “He is not the only one reborn.” We returned to the council that night. Sura waited with a bowl of silver water. The other elders stood back. “This is the Well of Echoes,” she said. “It shows you the soulstrings of those around you.” Freya and I held hands and stepped forward.

The moment we looked in, I saw them, threads of light, tied from my chest to hers. But there were more, many more.

Strings looping behind us like spider silk.

One red, one black one burning with white fire.

“That’s…” Freya started.

“The cub,” I said. “He’s tied to us.”

Sura nodded. “He is the child of fate. Born from pain, raised in prophecy. He carries the end, or the beginning.”

“What are we supposed to do?” I asked.

“Raise him,” she said. “Love him. But be ready.”

“For what?”

She closed her eyes. “For when he chooses who to become.”

Later that night, Freya and I sat in silence. She finally whispered, “Do you think we can do this?”

I looked at her, my mate, my soul’s mirror. I brushed her hair back and kissed her forehead.

“I think we already have.” We didn’t speak again.

Just watched the cub sleep between us, curled up like any normal pup.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about what the oracle said. About choices and war, and the truth waiting in the stars.

At dawn, I woke to the sound of breathing.

But not Freya’s or the cub’s but something else.

A woman stood at the tree line. Her eyes silver. Her hair tangled with vines and moonstones.

Her aura shimmered with power. Freya sat up instantly. “Who are you?”

The woman stepped forward. “I am Liora,” she said. Freya froze. “That’s my grandmother’s name.”

The woman smiled, sad and wild. “That’s because I am.”

My blood ran cold. “You died,” Freya whispered. “They said you died before I was born.”

“I did,” Liora said. “And then I didn’t. Because your birth broke a promise that was never meant to be broken.”

“What promise?” She pointed at the cub.

“That no child of blood and dusk would ever walk the world again.”

Freya stood, shaking. “What do you want?”

“I came for the child.”

“Over my dead body,” I growled.

Liora’s eyes glowed. “That can be arranged.”