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Chapter forty: freya's last gift
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2025-05-04 09:14:10Finnick’s POV
Freya and Veyrix battled above the world, light and shadow twisting like a storm in the sky.
It was like watching two stars fight. Fire and darkness. God and monster.
Every blow shook the earth.
Every roar split the sky.
Wolves below scattered or fell to their knees. Some prayed. Some wept. Some couldn’t even move—frozen by the power above them. I was one of them.
Not because I was afraid.
But because I felt it.
The thread between us, Freya and me, it was snapping.
I could feel her power rising, burning away everything inside her. And I knew…
She wasn’t just trying to defeat Veyrix.
She was trying to contain him.
Again.
I forced myself to stand.The battle around me had mostly stopped. Every wolf was watching the sky now.
Freya struck first, hurling a blast of pure silver fire. Veyrix answered with a claw of black flame. They collided mid-air, exploding like a sunburst. Trees were uprooted. Stones cracked. My knees gave out—but I held on.
Then Freya shifted mid-fall, becoming pure light, her wolf form dissolving into energy. She struck Veyrix’s chest—and light poured through him like a flood.
He screamed. A sound not of pain, but *rage*.
“You cannot destroy me!” he howled. “I was born of the first howl! I AM the night!”
“And I am its end,” Freya said.
She reached into his chest and pulled—light ripping through darkness.
Veyrix exploded into a thousand shards of shadow.
And then—
The world went silent. Freya fell.
Her body, glowing faintly, drifted down like a falling star. I ran toward her, pushing through ash and broken earth.
I caught her before she hit the ground.
“Freya,” I whispered, kneeling.
She was smaller now. Her Godwolf power was fading. Her eyes, no longer glowing, blinked up at me. Her body trembled in my arms.
“It’s done,” she said, voice soft. “He’s gone.”
Tears burned in my eyes. “You did it. You saved us.”
She smiled faintly. “Not just me.”
Then she coughed—and I saw blood on her lips.
“No,” I whispered. “No, Freya, stay with me.”
She touched my face. Her hand was cold.
“I gave up the last of my immortality to hold him inside,” she said. “He’s sealed again. In me. Just like before. But now… I’m mortal.”
I shook my head. “That’s okay. We’ll find a way to—”
“I don’t have time, Finnick.”
“Don’t say that.”
But she just smiled. “You kept me grounded. Loved me when I hated myself. Saw me when no one else did.”
“Because you’re you,” I whispered, voice breaking. “Because I love you.”
“I know,” she said. “And I love you too.” Her eyes fluttered closed.
Her body went still. And in my arms… she died.
The world did not move. The wolves were quiet.
The moon, high above, shone silver and cold.
I didn’t cry, Not at first, I just held her.
Because what else could I do?
The strongest, fiercest, most beautiful soul I’d ever known had burned herself away to protect us all.
And left me behind.
They buried her beneath the Moonstone Tree.The ground there glowed faintly now, like it remembered her.
The packs mourned. Even the skies wept. It rained for three days straight.
Some said she became part of the stars.
Some said her spirit still watched over us.
I didn’t speak, I didn’t eat and barely slept.
Every part of me felt hollow, like my soul had been ripped in half.
Because it had.
Weeks passed, Peace returned.
Veyrix was gone. The corrupted were scattered or healed. The spirits fled back into their world.
The wolves called it The Era of the Dawnfang.
Named after Freya.
But I didn’t care about the stories.
I just missed her. I walked the old paths alone. Sat by the tree where we first kissed. Trained the younger wolves who never knew what she sacrificed.
But nothing filled the hole she left behind.
Until…
One night, just as the moon rose full and silver in the sky…
I heard a whimper.
It came from the edge of the woods.
Soft, Strange, curious and I traced it, heart pounding.
And there—in the clearing—I saw it.
A small white cub, Fur like snow, Eyes glowing like stars.
It didn’t growl, It didn’t run, It just looked at me and smiled.
My breath caught.
It walked forward, small paws pressing into the moss, and sat in front of me.
“Freya?” I whispered, even though I knew it wasn’t really her.
The cub tilted its head and then howled. Not a pup’s cry but a voice I knew.
A voice that echoed with moonlight and memories.
And in that moment, I knew She wasn’t gone, Not really. She had left something behind.
A new beginning.
Born of shadow. Born of starlight.
Freya is gone, but a white cub with glowing eyes—part light, part mystery—appears, hinting at rebirth, legacy… or something more.
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