Page 12

Seren

Seren stood motionless, her keen eyes studying the towering man before her.

There was something about him—something familiar, like they had met in another life.

He observed her just as intently, his sharp gaze not missing the way she held herself, poised yet unafraid.

There was a flicker of recognition in his azure eyes before it was gone.

He was larger than the others, his presence a weight in the air, pressing on those around him.

And though she was young, she understood instinctively—this was their leader.

Before either of them could speak, the sound of rapid footsteps broke the moment.

"Seren!" The voice was raw, trembling.

Mamma.

Her Pappa tried to hold her back, but she wrenched free, her coiled hair spilling loose in the struggle. Winded and dishevelled, she ran to her daughter's side and threw herself between them, her breath heaving.

"I am Seren's mother. You will not speak to my daughter without me present."

The pack bristled at her defiance, though none moved against her.

The leader—Draken, she now understood—remained utterly still.

His stare bore down upon her mother, calculating, assessing.

The nervous man behind her had frozen, glancing between them as though expecting the earth to crack open beneath his feet.

Seren reached out and touched her mother's arm, her small hand warm against trembling skin. "Calm," she said softly. "Let's listen."

Her mother exhaled shakily but did not move away .

Seren turned back to Draken, then at the wall of warriors behind him—tall, muscled, untamed. These men were nothing like the ones from her village. They were... wolves. And they were giants.

She tilted her head like a princess. "Shall we sit?"

A flicker of surprise crossed Draken's face, quickly hidden. A single brow lifted as if weighing the proposal. Then, with a slight incline of his head, he sat upon the thick earth, his men following suit. The unexpected civility caused murmurs to ripple through the gathered pack.

As Seren and her mother took their places, Seren cast a glance up at the warriors surrounding them. "What do they feed you to make you this big?" she mused.

An involuntary chuckle rolled through the pack, low and amused. Even Draken let out a startled laugh, though he quickly stifled it.

"Do you know who I am?" he finally asked.

Seren tilted her head, considering him. "Are you the storm?"

From the shadows, the crone's voice rasped, "No, child. But he is the storm's father."

A hush fell over them.

Seren frowned, absorbing the weight of those words. Her mother's fingers twitched slightly against her knee, but she remained silent.

Draken shifted his gaze to the crone, then back to Seren. "We are here because of promises made by the coven," he said simply.

Promises. The word slithered into her mind, curling around a growing fear she hadn't fully grasped until now .

Draken's voice was measured, steady. "Two days ago, your elder, Arken, came to me with an offer. Your people are vulnerable, threatened by the tribe from the southern hills—men who take, burn, and devour without remorse. That tribe is no more. In return, Arken made a pact."

Seren's breath hitched as she listened, her small hands curling in her lap to stop them from trembling.

"For your protection, " Draken continued his voice like low thunder.

"Five of our unmated warriors have pledged to fight alongside your people as brothers, to train them and ready them against any threat.

Second, a bride price—a payment in supplies and money to bind our fates.

In exchange, we get," his gaze rested heavily on Seren, "you. "

Her mother gasped, her body trembling beside her. Seren felt the weight of his words press down upon her chest. Aaren's hand tightened on her forearm.

"You are promised as my son's future mate, to secure the alliance between our people. You will remain steadfast to him," Draken finished.

Seren swallowed hard. The words felt distant, as though they were happening to someone else. She was meant to be a link between them, a bridge between two worlds. The burden settled onto her slim eight-year-old shoulders, heavier than she was prepared for.

She swallowed. "Does that mean... I have to leave with you?"

The question lingered in the cool air. Her mother stiffened beside her, her breath hitching. Even the warriors, still as statues, seemed to lean in slightly.

Draken held her gaze. "No. "

A sigh of relief swept through her family. Her mother nearly collapsed against her father, hand tightening around Seren's.

Draken continued, "You will leave for Vargrheim when you turn twelve."

The tension did not fully dissipate, but there was comfort in knowing that the moment was not now.

The crone nodded. "She is not ready yet anyway."

Draken acknowledged this with the faintest of nods. "You will have time to acclimate yourself to our ways, to learn our language." His eyes never left Seren as he turned slightly and gestured to one of his men. "Rheon will be your teacher in our history and tongue."

A dark-haired warrior stepped forward, his piercing gaze studying her.

Seren nodded, though her head felt light as if she were in a dream.

The path before her had already been decided.

And there was no turning back now.