Freya's pov
“You’re nothing but a weak, mysterious waif. You think you’re worthy of being my mate? No way! You’re a shame to the whole of the Whiteclaw.”
The words thwack repeatedly in my mind, a bittersweet tune I couldn’t dance, grabbing my chest in fear and shame.
I was never meant to here. I wasn’t supposed to exist maybe.
Freya Kael, the orphan, a nobody. That’s all I’d ever been to the Pack. No family, no name, no power. Just a shadow on the cliff of their world, Striving hard to survive on scraps and silence. But tonight, the whole thing had changed. Tonight, I’d learned the truth—the cruel, beautiful, heartbroken truth.
Finnick Logan, the most feared Alpha of the Whiteclaw Pack, was my fated mate.
The affiliation had gnashed into place, the moment I’d seen him at the throng, his penetrating blue eyes locking onto mine across the flake. My chest had hardened, my breath catching as the perception hit me like a thunderbolt. He was mine, and I was his I'm sure of.
Or so I’d thought about us.
I slithered to a stop behind a gigantic oak tree. My weak back leaned against the jaggy husk, as I tried to control my breathing. My hands were trembling; I clenched them into fists. I had to keep calm. The pack was close, very close. I could feel the beating of their paws against the floor of the forest, and their growling were getting louder with every moving moment.
I shouldn’t have raced. I should have halted and faced them. But how could I? How could I face him after what he’d done to me?
Echos of Finnick’s voice was cold and cutting, piercing through my thoughts. “You?” he’d said, lip curling in revulsion.
Worse than any furry had been the words. I had positioned, frozen, as the pack laughed in unison, cruel and heartless jeers echoing in my ears. Finnick had turned his back on me, his broad shoulders stiffened with condensation. And I had felt the bond between us smash, like glass.
I would then run, but when a twig cracked to my left, I stopped, my breath catching in my throat, and I looked around the tree slowly, scanning the darkness, the only sound in the eerily silent woodland being the rustle of leaves in the breeze, but I could feel them—as if they were weighing me down—and I had to keep moving, because if I stayed here they would find me, and if they found me... I didn't want to think about what they might do.
My bare feet barely squeaking on the earth, I hushed away from the tree and ran farther into the forest. The only light I had to walk me through the grove was the moon's weak shine. My thoughts raced as I tried to make sense of what had occurred seconds ago. What made the bond chose me? Why did it choose him? Finnick was everything I wasn't: respected and powerful. I was nothing. An unidentifiable individual. An outlaw. However, the friendship was true. It couldn't. So, why did he turn me down? As I lurched, a harsh growl resounded through the air, and my foot became entangled with a root.
The collision knocked the air from my lungs, but I didn't have time to settle on it. I crawled to my woobling feet, my heart racing heavily as I turned to face the etymology of the sound. Two bright and glowing eyes leered back at me from the shadows, their golden tinge blazing like fire. My breath jerked as the wolf trampled into the moonlight, its huge form towering over me. Its intense was deep, inky black, and its lips were drawn back in a snar.
One more bone-chilling howl, came from the wolf outside, then disappeared into the darkness. I waited, breathing in little gasps, until I felt it was gone. My body shook from tiredness and anxiety as I then slink out of the crevice. But I felt something I hadn't felt in years as I stood there, alone in the moonlight. Ability. And with it came a single, horrible idea: what if I wasn't as weak as they assumed? The howls came back, nearer this time, and I knew I had to leave.
I turned and sprinted; the forest swallowed me whole as the wolves drew in. And there, deep in the darkness, I sensed the first flutter of something ancient waking up before me.
Freya's povI stood before the monolith, watching the symbols orbit like slow, dying stars.They were mine.I had carved them into the leyline the last time I was here or a version of me had. I still didn’t remember how, only that it had cost her everything and now I was back.Because whatever lived inside this place, whatever wore my shape and bled my rage across the world, was built from what I forgot and I was done forgetting.“Do you know what you’re doing?” Kye asked, voice tight.I didn’t answer right away. I let my hand hover over the monolith, just above the surface. The stone didn’t feel cold. It felt aware, Like something on the other side of it had leaned in to listen.“I’m remembering,” I said.“That doesn’t sound like a plan,” Finnick muttered.“It’s not,” I said quietly. “It’s the beginning of one.”The leyline twisted as my fingers touched the stone.A shivering in the center of me, like gravity shifting its loyalty.Runes flared brighter. Not just above the surfaced und
Freya's povThe light thinned, It unravel slowly, like mist peeling away from the surface of water, leaving the air raw and cold in its absence.My feet touched stone again. My body remembered weight. My lungs remembered breath.But I was not the same.I had a body but it didn’t quite feel like mine anymore. The leyline still burned in my blood, but it wasn’t a wound now. It was... direction. Motion. A current pulling me forward even when I stood still.I opened my eyes. Velza gasped.Kye stumbled backward, his mouth open, his hands raised instinctively—as if to shield himself from something too bright.Only Logan didn’t flinch.He just stared, sword still at his side, jaw clenched."Freya?" Velza's voice cracked like dry stone. "Is that you?"I nodded. "Yes."It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the whole truth either.The Beacon behind me hummed, alive now, awake for the first time in centuries. I could feel Finnick in every pulse. His presence. His steadiness. His choice.They couldn’t f
Finnick's pov I thought I’d become part of the stone but I was wrong.Stone doesn’t remember. I did.I remembered the way Freya’s hand fit in mine. The weight of her, soft and strong, the way she held back the fire not with power, but with will. I remembered every breath that led us here — the way Logan carried guilt like a sword strapped to his back, the way Velza never blinked when she was afraid, the way Kye always knew when to say nothing at all.And I remembered my own fear. That I’d be useless in the end.That all I could offer was loyalty, a body to break in place of someone who mattered more.But now I was the Beacon and the Beacon mattered.Even here, even in this in-between place where space had no shape and time had no spine. I could feel the world above me. Cracked, strained, waiting. The leyline was alive now, burning under the surface like a pulse under skin and it was hungry.It wanted more."They’re waking."Freya’s voice again, not distant this time, but inside me,
Finnick's povThe moment we stepped forward, the light changed.It wasn’t bright. Not like fire. Not like the glow that lived beneath Freya’s skin. It was softer. Pale blue. Almost silver. Like moonlight filtered through frost.The marks on the walls pulsed once, then faded, as if acknowledging us and then stepping back. The Beacon didn’t need to speak. It was listening.The others stood still behind us. Velza near the threshold, her eyes wide and wary. Kye with his book half-open, lips moving but no words coming out. Logan stood with one hand resting on the hilt of his blade, unreadable.I kept my hand in Freya’s.The ground shifted again. Not movement. More like pressure. Like something watching us had leaned in closer.Freya’s glow started to pulse again. Just beneath her skin. Barely there, but steady.She didn’t flinch.She raised her other hand and placed it against the ruined stone at the center of the Beacon. Her fingers touched blackened rock, but I saw something shift in her
Finnick's pov We left before the sun rose. The ground still remembered the heat from the crater. Even the birds stayed quiet. No one said much. After everything, silence felt easier than words.Freya walked beside me, her pace steady, gaze sharp. The glow beneath her skin hadn’t gone away. If anything, it had settled deeper, like it belonged there now. Like she was finally becoming something the leyline had been waiting for.She didn’t look afraid. I wasn’t sure that was a good thing.Velza was behind us, her limp worse than before. She didn’t ask for help. She never would. But she leaned harder on her staff, and the way she looked at Freya—like she expected her to catch fire again at any second—made it clear we were all still waiting for something to break.Kye walked in silence, staring at a piece of bark like it held the secrets of the stars. It didn’t, but that never stopped him. He said the constellations were out of order last night. I believed him.Logan took up the rear. Quie
Finnick's pov We left before the sun rose. The ground still remembered the heat from the crater. Even the birds stayed quiet.No one said much. After everything, silence felt easier than words.Freya walked beside me, her pace steady, gaze sharp. The glow beneath her skin hadn’t gone away. If anything, it had settled deeper, like it belonged there now. Like she was finally becoming something the leyline had been waiting for.She didn’t look afraid. I wasn’t sure that was a good thing.Velza was behind us, her limp worse than before. She didn’t ask for help. She never would. But she leaned harder on her staff, and the way she looked at Freya—like she expected her to catch fire again at any second—made it clear we were all still waiting for something to break.Kye walked in silence, staring at a piece of bark like it held the secrets of the stars. It didn’t, but that never stopped him. He said the constellations were out of order last night. I believed him.Logan took up the rear. Quie