Chapter thirty three: Freya has disappeared

Finnick's POV 

The sun was setting, but it didn’t feel like dusk.

The sky was brewing orange and red across the trees, but all I felt was cold shiver. I hadn’t slept, Couldn’t. I’d run through half the forest. Called her name until my throat was raw. Searched every trail, every den, every sacred hollow I could remember.

Nothing. Not a paw print__Not a whisper.

And the bond—our soul-link—it was still gone.

I didn't know how to explain what that feels to someone who’s never had any. It’s not just a mere connection. It’s not just magic. It’s like… breathing. Like knowing someone is always there, even in silence. Like feeling their heartbeat next to yours, even from a mile away.

And then suddenly, it's just… gone.

Like someone tore a thread out of your chest. Like you lost a limb and didn’t realize it until you tried to move. The absence aches more than any wound I’ve ever had.

I should’ve gone to the elders. Told someone. Gathered a search party.

But I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think straight.

I was angry. So angry I could hardly stand it.

Angry at Veyrix for poisoning her. For stealing her mind.

Angry at the gods for choosing her for this curse.

Angry at myself—for not stopping it. For not being enough.

The trees blurred past me as I ran again, scenting the air, trying to catch anything familiar. My legs felt like stone. My lungs were fire.

And still—I ran.

Because I had to believe she was still out there. Somewhere.

Because love doesn’t stop hurting , because it breaks.

That’s when I found the huge clearing.

At first, I didn’t recognize it. The grass was laid well. The air thick with the smell of blood, dust and smoke. But then I saw the broken stones—the ones shaped like a crescent moon—and I knew.

This was the cliff where her mother died.

And in the center of the clearing, her scent.

Fresh and heavy. Freya had been here__Recently but she wasn’t alone.

There were other scents too. Wolves. At least three. Maybe more. One of them smelled wrong—like metal and rot. My hackles rose.

I stepped into the clearing and saw it.

Blood.

Dried across the rocks. Splashed over moss. Pooled in a dark patch near the edge of the cliff.

My heart dropped.

I followed the trail with slow, careful steps. Clawed prints in the mud. Not all hers. A struggle. A fight but no body.

No fur, No sign of her now.

“Freya…” I whispered. “Where did you go?”

I closed my eyes, trying to focus. To reach. Even if the bond was severed, I thought maybe—just maybe—I could still feel her if I tried hard enough. If I believed.

Nothing but then…A flicker, Not a feeling but dep sound.

A growl Far off and Deep. Echoing through the trees like thunder. I snapped my head up. Then I saw them.

Crows, Dozens, Circling the sky in wide, slow rings just beyond the ridge.

Something was out there. I took off, I didn’t stop to think. Didn’t stop to fear.

Because I knew in my soul—whatever was coming, whatever had her—I’d face it. Even if it killed me. Even if she didn’t love me anymore. Even if she never came back.

Because I still loved her.

And love doesn’t quit. Not real love, Not mine.

I broke through the last line of trees, breath catching in my throat. There she was.

Freya.

Standing at the edge of a cliff, back to me, her fur lit by dawnlight. Blood on her paws. Her body stiff and shaking like a storm was inside her.

I should’ve called her name.

Should’ve rushed to her, held her, cried, begged.

But something stopped me. She turned slowly.

Her eyes…

They were not her eyes.

Not the soft silver I knew. Not the storm-grey that flashed when she fought, They were white.

Glowing but empty. And then she smiled.

Not the smile I knew. Not hers, It was wide. Too wide, Wrong. My breath froze in my throat.

“Freya…” I whispered.

But she didn’t move. Didn’t answer but Then she blinked. And when she opened her eyes again—they were hers.

Tears welled instantly.

“Finnick…” she whispered, voice breaking. “I… I didn’t mean to—” Behind her, the cliff cracked, Stone shifted.

Wind howled, Something stirred below. Her legs buckled and she fell to her knees.

“it’s inside me.” Her voice was raw, terrified. “I can’t fight it anymore.”

I stepped forward, heart pounding. “Yes, you can. We’ll find a way. Together—”

“No.” She looked up at me, and I saw it—the fear. The guilt. The love.

And something else. Resignation.

“I’m not safe, Finnick. Not for you. Not for anyone.”

“Freya, don’t—” But she stood, The wind howled louder. The ground cracked again, spreading like a wound.

“I love you,” she whispered. Then she jumped.

 Finnick dives after her—but the cliff explodes in shadow before he reaches her. She vanishes into the abyss, swallowed by Veyrix’s darkness.