Thirty six: the mirror and the god

Finnick’s POV*

I’ve seen storms, real ones, with thunder that strikes open the sky and wind that pulls trees from the ground. But this… this wasn’t a normal storm. No.

The sky was too still. The air too heavy. Every wolf in the pack felt it. You could see it in their faces, hear it in their expression and silence. Something was coming. Something old. Something angry.

And Freya stood right in the middle of it.

She was standing before the sacred circle of stones, her head tilted back, eyes shut, murmuring the ancient words her mother taught her. Her palms red, bleeding, the blood dripping on the stone. Her silver hair floating on the wind, but she didn’t glitch. She didn’t even blink.

I watched her from outside the circle, staring. I wanted to run to her, stop her, tell her to be calm. But I couldn’t move. I felt like the ground beneath me was holding me still.

Unfortunately,That’s when the ground began to shake.

Not like a small tremor. This was deep and loud. The kind of tremble that makes your heart feel like they might stop pulsing.

“Finnick!” someone screamed behind me. It was Kael, our healer. He stood one knee, gripping the dirt like it was the only thing keeping him balance and alive “It’s happening. Veyrix, he’s waking up.”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

Because right in front of me, the stone cracked open beneath Freya’s feet. A blinding light burst from the ground—bright, but wrong. It wasn’t golden like the sun. It was sharp and purple, like lightning frozen in place.

Freya didn’t move.

Then he came.

He rose from the crack in the earth like a shadow with bones. Tall, taller than any wolf or man. His skin looked like it was made of black rock and smoke. His eyes gleamed the same silver as Freya’s but blazing with purple fire. Twisted horns curled from his head, and long claws hung from his fingers.

Veyrix.

The ancient wolf-god. The monster we were never meant to see awake.

No one said a word. We just watched.

He looked at the wolves around him, then turned his head slowly… until his eyes met mine.

And then he smiled.

I took a step back. My chest tightened. My wolf instincts screamed at me to run, to hide, to get Freya and disappear into the mountains. But I didn’t move. I couldn’t.

Then he turned to her.

Freya stared back at him, her jaw clenched, hands still bleeding, but dropped at her sides.

“I know exactly what you are,” she said, her voice low and soft. “You should have stayed buried.”

Veyrix’s deep voice rumbled like thunder. “And I know what you are,” he said. “My mirror. My bond. My door to freedom.”

Before I could move, he reached out and touched her chest with one of his long claws.

“Freya!” I shouted and ran forward—but black flames rose up between us, stopping me in my tracks. I hit the fire and bounced back. It didn’t burn my skin—it burned my fear. My panic. It fed on it.

I watched helplessly as Freya dropped to her knees, shaking. A bright mark burned into her skin, just above her heart. It glowed red and purple—a circle of thorns wrapped around a single eye.

She gasped and clutched her chest, face pale as snow.

Veyrix leaned close and whispered, “Now, little wolf… you are mine.”

And just like that—he vanished.

No sound. No flash. Just *gone*.

The storm lifted slightly. The air got lighter. The shaking stopped.

But the damage was already done.

I rushed to Freya and caught her as she started to fall. Her skin was hot like fire. She was shaking all over. Her heartbeat felt wrong—too fast, too loud. Like two hearts beating out of rhythm.

“Freya,” I said softly, holding her close. “Stay with me. Look at me.”

She opened her eyes slowly. “He’s inside me,” she whispered.

“No,” I said, trying to stay calm. “He marked you. But you’re still you. We can fix this. We *will* fix this.”

Her eyes closed again. “It hurts.”

I held her tighter. I wanted to take her pain away, rip the mark from her chest, scream at the sky. But all I could do was sit there and hold her while she burned from the inside out.

A few wolves stepped closer, staring at the mark, their eyes wide with fear. Even Taron looked shaken.

“Is she still Nightfang?” one of them asked quietly.

I looked up, my eyes blazing. “She’s Freya. That’s all that matters.”

But deep down, i wasn't sure she is.

Later that night, after everyone had gone, I stood by her. We were camped on the high edge near the Moonstone Tree, just to be far away from others. She was wrapped in furs, still weak and pale.

She hadn’t spoke or move in hours.

The mark on her chest didn't fade. It still glowed under her skin.

I cupped her jaw, hoping it helped, even a little.

“I don’t know if I can fight this,” she said. Her voice soft, low and sudden, voice barely above a whisper.

I spun to her. “You’re stronger than this. Believe me freya. Stronger than him.”

“What if I’m not?” Her eyes clouded with tears, and my heart broke in two. “What if he takes over me… and I hurt you? Or Taron? Or the others?”

I leaned closer and touched her cheek. “Then we’ll stop him before that happens. Together.”

She looked away. “I saw something when he touched me. A vision.”

“What kind of vision?”

Her stare met mine again, but the fear in them made my blood run froze.

“I saw the battlefield… everything destroyed. Wolves everywhere. Dead. And you—”

She stopped.

I gripped her hand tighter. “Me, what?”

Her voice broke. “You were lying in the mud. Not moving. And he… he was standing over you. Smiling.”

The silence after her words was heavier than anything I’d felt before.

I wanted to lie. To tell her it didn’t mean anything. That visions weren’t real. But I couldn’t. Not when the mark on her chest was still glowing. Not when the skies had turned black earlier like night had swallowed the sun.

“We’ll change it,” I said finally. “That future? It’s not written in stone. We’ll fight it. Together.”

She leaned against me, I pulled her head on my chest. “Promise me,” she whispered.

“I promise.”

She closed her eyes and finally fell asleep.

I didn’t.

I stayed up all night, watching the sky.

And just before dawn, I saw something move in the woods below us. A shape, shadow. Not Veyrix, Not a wolf.

But something watching us… with glowing white eyes.

And for the first time, I felt something colder than fear.

Not everything that follows a god stays dead.