Chapter forty one: glowing eyes in the dark

Finnick’s POV 

The forest was too quiet. Not the peaceful kind. Not the soft toss that urged you to rest your back in the grass and ignore the world. This was the kind of silence that made your skin crawl. The kind that made you think something was staring, hiding, waiting.

I stepped carefully over fallen branches and wet moss, keeping my senses open. It was early dusk. The air still smelled like cold metals and pine needles. My wolf needed to be free, to racd, but I held him back. Something was off.

Freya had left the den before sunrise. No note, no word. Just gone. That wasn't like her. Not anymore. Not after everything we had been through.

Veyrix was dead. I had held her when she screamed his name, when she shattered him from the inside out. I had whispered that she was safe, that it was over.

But it wasn’t.

She woke up shaking, her eyes gleaming gold in the dark. Sometimes she didn’t recognize anything, not even me. Sometimes… I didn’t recognize her.

I found her near the corner of the clearing , resting on her knees, glaring onto the trees. She didn’t spun when I approached.

“Freya?”

She didn’t answer.

I stepped closer and finally saw what had her frozen.

A cub. Small. White as snow. Eyes too big for its face. It stood still as a stone, staring at her. Not scared. Just… watching.

The moment it noticed me, its head tilted. Then it took one slow step forward, toward Freya. I saw her fingers clenched like she wanted to get it but was afraid to.

“What was that?” I asked.

She didn’t answer at first. Her lips parted, breath shaky. “It followed me.”

I crouched next to her. “From where?”

She shook her head, curls hiding her face. “It just… appeared. I don’t know.”

The cub blinked, and something about the way it did it made my stomach twist. Not natural. Not right.

It padded forward again, just one pawstep away from Freya’s knee now. She reached out.

“Freya—wait,” I warned.

Too late.

She touched it, The forest shivered.

I didn’t know how else to explain it. The trees groaned. The light dimmed. The shadows stretched. Freya gasped like something had hit her in the chest, and I lunged forward to pull her back—but then I heard it.

A voice Soft__ Cold, Familiar.

“Freya…”

My blood went ice cold. I knew that voice. I’d heard it before—in our nightmares. In her screams.

Veyrix.

Freya ripped her hand back. The cub stared up at her with eyes no longer wide and innocent—but ancient. A flash of gold in its pupils. The same cursed color that had marked him.

“No,” she whispered. 

She reached again, but the cub stepped back. Then, as if the forest had swallowed it whole, it disappeared into the trees.

I ran after it. My wolf was already pushing forward. We couldn’t let it get away. Whatever that thing was, it wasn’t just a lost cub. It was him. Or a part of him. Maybe a ghost. Maybe worse.

But the trail ended too fast. No prints. No scent. Just gone.

I came back to Freya. She was still on the ground, cuddling herself.

“Wh..what the hell was that? What did I just saw?” I asked, trying to stay calm. She didn’t answer.

“You knew about it. Didn’t you?” I said. “You noticed it before I got here.”

She stared at me, something in her eyes broke me. That pale look, haunted, pains, guilty look. Like she was keeping something big and hurtful inside.

“Freya, talk to me.” She shook her head. “I can’t. Not yet.”

I stood there, stunned. “Not yet? Are you serious?”

“It’s not safe, Finnick. For you. For me.”

I stepped back, angry. “You don’t get to decide what’s safe for me. We’re supposed to be in this together.” She looked away.

“You promised,” I said softly.

“I know.”

“Then why are you lying to me?” She flinched like I’d struck her.

I hated myself the moment I said it. But it was too late. She stood up, walked past me without a word.

I let her go. That night, I couldn’t sleep.

I kept seeing that cub’s eyes. Hearing that voice. Freya…

Was it a trick? Some part of Veyrix clinging on? Or worse… was Freya somehow still tied to him?

I didn’t want to believe it. Not after everything we had survived. The fire, the pain, the battles. The way we clawed our way back to each other.

I went for a walk to clear my head.

The woods were different at night. Alive. Breathing. Every crack of a branch made my heart beat faster. I wasn’t afraid, not really—but something was definitely wrong.

Then I saw it__ White fur.

Half-hidden behind a tree. The cub, I froze. My wolf snarled low in my chest.

“Come out,” I said, voice low.

It did but not just it.

A shadow followed behind. Tall. Lean. Like smoke wrapped in a cloak. No face. No features. Just… a presence.

My wolf lunged before I could stop him. I shifted mid-sprint, claws out, teeth bared. But the moment I reached the cub—everything went black.

I don’t remember falling. I don’t remember hitting the ground.

All I remember is the voice. Inside my mind. Cold. Echoing.

“Welcome back.”

I was floating. No, drowning, In someone else’s memories.

Flashes_Fire_ Wolves_ Blood.

A woman with silver eyes screaming as a sword cut through her chest.

A man—me?—standing over her, hand trembling.

Then darkness, Then Freya’s voice calling my name.

Then her face. I woke up on the forest floor.

I couldn’t move. My limbs were heavy. My chest burned. Like someone had carved something into it.

And then I saw her. Freya, kneeling beside me, tears in her eyes.

“Finnick?” she whispered.

I tried to speak, but nothing came out.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” she said.

But even as she held me, I saw something in her eyes. Fear.

Not for me__Of me.

Later that night, when the others carried me back to the den, I overheard her whispering to herself.

“He saw it.” She wasn’t talking about the cub.

She was talking about me. And the way she looked at me that night?

Like I was a stranger.

But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part came in my dream.

Freya stood in front of me. A younger version of her. Pale dress. Bare feet.

Behind her, a battlefield. And I my dream-self lifted a sword and then Pointed it at her.

“I’m sorry,” I heard myself say. She cried. “Why? You promised.”

“I was the one who ended it all,” I said.

Then I struck. I woke up yelling, shouting.

And in the dark, just outside the window, I saw two gleaming eyes. Small, White, Watching.

The cub, Then it whispered again.

“Father.”