Chapter forty two: strange cub

Everything felt different now. Freya avoided my eyes. She didn’t grip my hand when we walked. She flinched when I reached out for her, even if it was just to brush hair from her face. I wanted to ask her what was wrong, but every time I opened my mouth, something wasn't 

Maybe I was afraid of the answer.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the dream. The battlefield. Her face. My sword. It felt too real—like I had lived it before. But that was impossible.

Wasn’t it?

I told myself it was just the stress. The cub. The strange voice. My mind playing tricks. But when I looked at Freya, I saw something I hadn’t seen in a long time.

Distance__And pain.

The kind that didn’t just go away.

I found her close to the river the next morning.

She was sitting on a rock, glancing into the water like it held some secret she was trying to remember. Her hair was messy. She hadn’t slept. I could tell.

I sat down beside her. She didn’t look at me.

“I had another dream,” I said.

Still no reply.

“I was holding a sword. You were there. I… I hurt you.”

Her fingers clenched. Her lips pressed tight.

“I think it was from another time. Another life.”

She finally spoke. “It wasn’t just a dream.”

I turned to her. “What do you mean?”

She looked at me then, really looked. Her eyes were red, tired, scared. “You saw the past. A piece of it. A truth that shouldn’t have been remembered.”

I stared at her. “How do you know that?” She didn’t answer.

“Freya. Please. Tell me what’s happening.”

She stood. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“That’s not good enough!” I shouted, standing too. “You said we were in this together. So *be* with me. Tell me what this is.”

She stepped back, voice trembling. “I don’t know what to say, Finnick. Everything’s changing. I’m changing. And you—something is wrong with you too.”

“I’m not the enemy.”

“I know,” she whispered. “But I don’t know if we’re still on the same side.” Those words cut deep.

I looked at her like I didn’t recognize her. Because I didn’t. Not this version. The girl who looked like my mate but sounded like she was giving up.

“Do you still love me?” I asked.

She closed her eyes. “Of course I do.”

“Then why are you pulling away?”

“Because loving you might be the very thing that destroys me,” she said softly.

I didn’t know what to say. So I just watched her walk away.

Again.

That night, I couldn’t sleep.

I laid in our bed—alone. The sheets still smelled like her, but she wasn’t there. She hadn’t come back.

I told myself she needed space. But deep down, I knew something was happening. Something bigger than both of us. And she was trying to face it alone.

I wouldn’t let her.

I got up, shifted into my wolf, and ran into the woods.

The trees were thick. The wind sharp. I followed her scent—not fresh, but still strong enough to track. She had gone deep. Too far.

Then I smelled something else.

Ash__My paws slowed. My hackles rose.

The forest ahead was darker. Quieter. Not natural. That’s when I found her cloak.

It was torn. Hanging on a branch like someone had pulled it off her.

I shifted back fast. “Freya!”

No answer.

I ran forward, calling her name. Then I saw it's glowing eyes between the trees.

The cub, it was watching me again.

“Where is she?” I demanded but it didn’t move, I stepped forward. “Tell me!”

It blinked. Then it turned and walked away. Something told me to follow.

So I did.

We walked through trees older than time. The ground felt different here, like it pulsed with something ancient. The cub led me to a clearing I’d never seen before and there she was.

Freya.

Lying on the ground, unconscious. Eyes fluttering like she was trapped in a dream.

I rushed to her side. “Freya! Wake up!” She didn’t move.

I touched her face. Her skin was cold. Her lips pale.

The cub sat at the edge of the clearing, staring at us. Then it tilted its head and, in a voice I knew too well, whispered:

“She’s remembering.” Then it vanished into the mist.

I didn’t know what else to do. So I carried her back.

Her body felt too light. Her heartbeat too slow. I held her close and whispered her name over and over. “Stay with me. Please.”

She didn’t wake.

By the time I got back to the den, the others had already noticed she was gone. Taron ran up to me, eyes wide.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “But something’s inside her mind. Something from before.”

We laid her down and tried to wake her. Nothing worked.

Hours passed, And then finally her fingers twitched. Her eyes opened.

She gasped like she had been drowning. I caught her hand. “Freya! It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

She looked at me, dazed. “Finnick… I saw him.”

“Who?”

“Veyrix. But not like before. Not as a monster. As a boy. Lost. Lonely. Angry. And then… you.”

“Me?”

She nodded slowly, tears running down her face. “You were there. But it wasn’t you. Not this version. It was… a past you. I think you were the one who killed him.” My stomach dropped.

“I think that’s why he’s still here. Why he can’t let go. He was betrayed by someone he loved. Someone who looked like you.”

I couldn’t breathe.

“I don’t think you’re Veyrix,” she said quickly, as if trying to comfort me. “But I think his soul remembers you. Or who you were.”

“Why me?” I asked. “Why do I have to carry this?”

“I don’t know. But we’re caught in something much bigger than us. Bigger than this life.”

“What does that mean for us?” She looked away.

“Freya.”

“I think… I think the bond between us is fraying.”

“No,” I said. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true. I feel it.” Tears slipped down her cheeks.

“I don’t want to lose you,” I whispered.

“Then hold on,” she said. “Hold on tighter than fate can pull.”

“I will.”

But just as I leaned forward to kiss her—

Her body jerked.

Her eyes rolled back before She gasped and this time, when she spoke, it wasn’t in her voice.

It was the cub’s or maybe his.

“Father…”

Then she collapsed again. And I was left there, holding the woman I loved, unsure if she was still truly her at all.