Page 188 of Of Empires and Dust

Something reached for her, and she swiped it away, feeling something hard against her back. She snapped and snarled like a trapped animal, feeling her fangs lengthening, the wolf alive in her blood like never before.

Slowly her vision began to clear, blocky forms taking shape, light seeping in.

“Ella, it’s all right.” The voice was still muffled but sounded familiar.

Another hand, or claw, or something, snatched at her.

“Get away from me!” she roared, her throat dry as sand, her own voice sounding foreign, strange. Her hands shook uncontrollably, and her stomach felt as though it would turn itself inside out. “Don’t touch me!”

A feeling of pure joy hit her like a rampaging bull, and then a weight crashed into her chest, pushing past her arms and bearing down over her. Thick fur pressed against her fingers and palms, a wet tongue lashing her face. Sharp whimpers and whines sounded in her ear.

“Faenir?” Ella’s heart stopped. She moved her hands, feeling the shape of the wolfpine’s snout, her fingertips brushing over his wet nose as he tried desperately to lick the soul from her body. Her vision was still blurred, but she snapped her eyes shut and wrapped her arms around Faenir’s neck, squeezing him as tightly as she dared.

The wolfpine nuzzled into her, continuing to whine as he pressed the flat of his head into her neck. Sweet relief and purejoy radiated from him, and the massive wolfpine wiggled his hips like a newborn pup.

“I’m here, boy,” Ella whispered, pressing her face into Faenir’s muzzle. “I’m here.”

“Ella.”

The voice was Tanner Fjorn’s. Ella recognised it now, the howl fading from her ears. She peeled open her eyes, the light in the room causing her to wince. Shapes formed around her, dark blotches blocking out the light. “Tanner?”

“By the gods, girl…” His voice trembled with a worry that sounded strange on his tongue. His scent was the same: all fear and concern. “We weren’t sure if you’d ever come back to us.”

A hand settled on Ella’s arm, a second brushing her cheek. Ella recognised Yana’s voice before the woman’s face came into focus, her dark eyes staring into Ella’s. “You took your time.”

Ella’s lips broke into a smile, and she rested her hand over Yana’s, pressing it to her cheek. “Just trying to teach you patience,” she said, coughing, her throat dry as cotton. “I thought you’d like the peace and quiet.”

“You’re a piece of work,” Yana said with a laugh.

“Is there any water?” Ella pushed herself back, looking down to see she sat in a bed. Faenir still pressed himself to her, letting out low whimpers, his snout now nuzzled beneath her left arm – which she was happy to see was still attached. She swallowed hard, trying to get some spit into her mouth. “I feel like I’ve been drinking sand.”

“Here.” The third voice belonged to a face Ella was overjoyed to see: Lasch Havel. She’d only briefly crossed paths with him and Elia before the battle for the city, but seeing faces from home set a warmth in her. Lasch popped the stopper from a waterskin and handed it to Ella. “Elia’s brewing a new batch of tea. She’ll be up in a minute.”

Ella gave him a soft smile, nodding her thanks, then took the skin and drank deeply. She coughed and spluttered, the water spraying over her lips and onto Faenir’s head. The wolfpine jerked back with a yelp, then licked the moisture from his muzzle and lay down across Ella, dropping his chin over the blanket covering her knees.

“Drink slow, child. You found your path, but your body has been idle for some time.”

Every hair on Ella’s body pricked, her breath catching in her lungs. The wolf within her bowed its head, and she felt a compulsion to do the same. Faenir flattened his chin against his paws, his eyes fixed on the corner of the room.

Both Tanner and Lasch stepped aside as a man rose from a stout wooden chair beside the wall. Aneera and another Fenryr Angan walked at his side.

The man was almost as tall as Tanner but leaner and less densely muscled. His hair was golden with flecks of black and brown, a thick beard covering his face.

Instinctively, Ella made to rise, but the man lifted an open hand. “No.” His voice was deep and calm, his eyes fixed on her. “You must rest, child.”

Yana stood as the man approached. When he reached the bed, he dropped to one knee and rested a hand on Faenir’s head. “You did well, as I knew you would. Thank you for keeping her safe.”

The wolfpine gave a low grumble and nuzzled his head up into the man’s palm, closing his eyes.

With his other hand, the man reached across and gently gripped Ella’s forearm. She wasn’t sure why she didn’t pull away. She didn’t know him, but something within her told her she was safe.

“Decades ago, your father risked everything for me, for my children. It is a debt that cannot be repaid. You are also of yourmother’s blood, ofmyblood, and so you are pack. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Ella Bryer.”

“You…” Ella’s voice trailed off as she stared into the man’s swirling golden eyes. She knew him now, knew him in his entirety. “You are Fenryr.”

“I am. And you are Ella Bryer, daughter of Vars and Freis Bryer. Daughter of the Chainbreaker and born of the oldest sept of my blood. And I swear to you, neither you nor your brothers will be alone in what is to come.”

Ella had no idea what to say, but every impulse in her body told her she could trust this man… this god.

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