Page 30 of Bound to Exiles (Rejected Wolf Pack #5)
He paused, his expression growing serious. “They help me search for others like us. For years, I’ve traveled between packs, hunting stories of wolves who couldn’t be commanded, who remained blue-eyed in their wolf form.”
“And did you find any? Besides me?”
He shook his head, sadness creeping into his eyes. “No. Just stories, whispers. After a while, I began to think I was alone.”
The vulnerability in his admission touched something deep within me. I knew that loneliness, had felt it my entire life until finding the Howling Echo.
“You’re not alone anymore,” I said softly.
The dream-forest around us seemed to pulse with energy — not just my magic, but his as well, meeting and mingling in the space between us. The ravens spread their wings, taking flight in a swirl of black feathers that momentarily obscured my vision.
When they cleared, the scene had changed. We stood atop the impossibly tall mountain now, looking down over a vast landscape. Far below us stretched territories I recognized — Frost Fang, Moonblessed, Ironwood, and others I couldn’t name.
“What’s happening?” I asked, sensing the prophetic nature of this vision.
“This is one of Odin’s blessings,” Tor answered, his shoulder brushing mine as he came to stand beside me. “From Hlieskjálf, his high seat, he could see all Nine Worlds.”
The lands below began to glow with different colors — blues, greens, reds — like territories on a map. As we watched, the colors shifted, the borders between them blurring.
“The packs are changing,” I whispered.
Tor nodded. “You’re helping to build these alliances, Freya.”
But then shadows swept across the landscape from the southeast — dark and ominous. Another voluminous shadow came from the west, consuming the colored lights as it advanced, pinching the packlands between.
“Denraider,” Tor growled, the word heavy with recognition and hatred.
Before the shadows could converge, points of light appeared — first one, then another, then dozens, hundreds. They pierced the darkness like stars, fighting back and burning away the shadows until their lights glowed brightly together.
“What does it mean?” I asked, though something inside me already knew.
“Unity,” Tor said simply. “The packs standing together.”
The vision faded, returning us to the snowy clearing. Tor’s expression was thoughtful, almost reverent.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” he admitted. “Your power… it’s remarkable.”
“That couldn’t have been all me,” I protested.
“You’re doing well for someone who only recently discovered her nature.” His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. “Who’s teaching you?”
“One of my mates is a mage,” I explained. “He’s been helping me with magic. I decided to see if some of the same concepts applied.”
“A mage?” Genuine surprise crossed his features. “And as a wolf shifter, you accept him?”
“We’re both hybrids, actually. Half mage, half shifter.”
“And your other mates? ”
I laughed softly. “Four alpha wolf shifters. It… hasn’t always been easy.”
“Four alphas and a mage hybrid,” he shook his head, clearly impressed. “And now me, an Odinswolf. You collect quite the unusual pack, Freya.”
“The Howling Echo has never stood on tradition.”
His expression sobered. “Traditional pack structures don’t work for our kind anyway. Alphas commanding obedience through force…” He shook his head. “That’s not true leadership.”
“What is, then?” I asked, curious about his perspective.
“Odinswolves don’t recognize alphas and betas. We see only equals, bound by choice rather than dominance. Leadership is earned through wisdom and respect,” he answered without hesitation. “Wolves who run together because they choose to, not because they’re forced.”
His words resonated with something Flint had once told me about his ancestors’ beliefs — that chiefs became chiefs through prowess and humility, not strength and dominance. And they didn’t rule alone, but with the help of medicine men and women and councils.
“I’ve never quite fit into traditional pack hierarchies,” Tor continued, a shadow crossing his features. “My resistance to alpha commands made me… problematic.”
“Any pack I would know?” I asked.
“Snow Moon pack. One of the few packlands in Canada allowed to remain under pack law rather than coven rule.” His jaw tightened. “They wanted me to take my father’s place after he died, but I refused. I couldn’t spend my life as a slave to machinery, pretending to be something I’m not.”
The pain behind his words was evident — the struggle of an Odinswolf trying to fit into a world ruled and shaped by alphas. I understood it all too well.
“Can I ask you something?” I said after a moment.
“Anything.”
“Besides being an Odinswolf… is there any reason a wolf shifter might not be able to shift? Or might struggle with it?”
Tor considered the question, his head tilting slightly.
“I’ve heard of curses that can suppress or prevent shifting, but I’ve never encountered anyone afflicted by one.
They’re just rumors as far as I know. My mother once told me of a shifter so damaged by abuse she lost her connection to her animal side.
She… feared something like that happening to me if we stayed in the pack.
So, maybe trauma — physical or emotional. ”
His answer sent my thoughts back to Zak.
What had his coven done to him? My mates had told me what they suspected, and after Flint had seen Zak’s nightmare, he believed Zak’s coven was somehow responsible for what had happened to his wolf.
Zak had implied they’d treated him badly…
And all the while, we’d been poking and prodding him about his poor, abused wolf.
What if he wanted to shift, but couldn’t?
“Why do you ask?” Tor said, studying my face.
“Just curious,” I answered, not ready to share Zak’s secrets, even in a dream.
Tor accepted this with a nod, respecting my privacy. The ease between us felt remarkable — as if we’d known each other for years rather than minutes. Was it the shared Odinswolf heritage? Or something deeper?
I wanted to find out, preferably outside of our dreams.
“Where are you?” I asked.
He sighed. “After the starbeams fell, I sent my ravens to find you all, but you may as well be across the ocean. Denraider’s latest conquests place them squarely between me and you.”
My hopes of meeting Tor in the flesh anytime soon dissipated. If he as a lone wolf couldn’t get to us, how could I ask our newly exiled packmates to risk their lives to go to him?
He sensed my distress. “Give it time. I hope to sneak through their conquered territories when their main forces move on to fresh conquests. In the meantime, I went to investigate some rumors of another female shifter with multiple mates. I’d hoped perhaps she might be an Odinswolf, but I followed those rumors almost all the way back to my old pack before I realized I was barking up the wrong tree. ”
When he mentioned his old pack again, something occurred to me. “Wait… Do you know Jasmine and her mates? That’s probably who yo u heard about. She’s not an Odinswolf, though I suspected the same at first.”
“Doesn’t sound familiar. Do you remember her mates’ names?”
“Gabriel, Garreth, and… Grayson,” I said, remembering as best I could. “Three littermates.”
He shook his head and shrugged. “The Snow Moon packlands are large, and I avoided spending much time among my packmates before I left.”
“How soon do you think you could reach us?” I asked.
He looked westward, toward where we’d seen the shadow in our vision. “It depends on Denraider’s movements, but I won’t let them stop me. Now that my raven pinpointed your exact location, nothing will keep me away.”
His words didn’t reassure me. Instead, they made me worried he might charge straight into Denraider’s jaws.
“Or maybe you could pay Jasmine and her mates a visit,” I suggested. “Tell them you’re my mate and you’re looking for me. They might be able to give you supplies. Maybe even a vehicle, if you don’t have one. Tell her I would owe her.”
I might not have spent much time with Jasmine and her mates, but we’d struck it off immediately. She would help if she could, I knew she would.
The dream began to waver around the edges, the snowy landscape fading into fog.
“We’re waking,” Tor said, disappointment evident in his voice.
I reached for him instinctively, seeking connection before the dream ended. My fingers slid along his strong jaw, and the jolt of recognition that passed between us was electric. His hand came up to cover mine, warm and solid despite our fading dreamscape.
His eyes held mine, intense and filled with something that mirrored the longing in my own heart. “You’re not alone either, my fellow Odinswolf. You never were.”
I smiled, and rose up to kiss him, but a foggy expanse separated us like an ice float splitting into two, pulled apart by conflicting currents. The dream faded around us, the forest and snow dissolving into a sea of mist that pushed us farther from one another .
His steady voice still reached me as though he stood right beside me, though. “The dreams are our link until we can claim each other properly. Find me again,” he said urgently as he grew smaller in the distance.
“I will,” I promised.
The last thing I saw were his ice-blue eyes, bright with promise, and the ravens circling overhead like guardians.