Page 15

Hagan

Airlia was quickly becoming a fixture within Hagan's small group of friends, but unlike the others, she and her mother, Gaia, could not access the tribelink. Their wolves had been lost, severed from them by trauma.

Highclaw Draken had been suspicious at first, uncertain whether they were even true wolves. He called for Gaia, summoning her to his quarters after his return from the quest.

She arrived smiling, her voice sweet—a honeyed thing that made the Highclaw's instincts sharpen.

"It is true, Highclaw," Gaia said in that smooth, musical voice of hers. "I am wolf-born, but my mate was human. Airlia carries my blood."

Draken studied her, unblinking. "Many have claimed the same before."

Gaia's smile never wavered. "Would you like me to swear it on my life?"

There was no hesitation, no nervousness—only ease, a kind of confidence that made Draken less wary.

However, it was not her words that convinced him.

It was Airlia's scent.

She smelled of the wild, of wolf blood.

There was no mistaking it.

Finally, with a nod, he relented. "Then you will be given the mark of the pack."

He motioned for the elder to come forward, and the tribal tattoo was imprinted onto their skin—a small circle with a wolf and fire at its centre .

Gaia flinched as the needles pierced her skin. Airlia only watched with mild interest as her tattoo took shape. That, more than anything else convinced Draken that he had made the right choice.

The months passed, and life in the tribe continued as the newcomers slowly became family. Hagan and Airlia grew closer, their bond slowly forming in the way of childhood friendships—built on small moments, shared laughter, and whispered secrets.

It started as a murmur in the village—nothing more than quiet voices that seemed to follow them wherever they went.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?"

"Those eyes... like silver."

"Perhaps she's the girl from the prophecy."

"Could she truly be the Alphason's match?"

Hagan heard it.

Airlia heard it.

Her face flushed crimson, and when Hagan glanced at her, he felt his own cheeks heat in response.

Neither spoke of it, but the whispers never stopped.

The howls of the pack faded into the distance, leaving only the crackling of the fire and the rustling of leaves in the cool night air. Nine-year-old Airlia hugged her knees to her chest, staring at the dark tree line where the others had disappeared.

She barely noticed Hagan plopping down next to her until he kicked a small rock near her foot .

"You're making that face again," he said.

"What face?" she mumbled.

"The one that looks like you ate something bad but you're too stubborn to spit it out."

Airlia huffed, pushing at his shoulder. He barely budged. "I don't make that face."

"Yes, you do."

She frowned and looked back at the woods. "You didn't go with them."

Hagan crossed his arms. "Neither did you."

She gave him a pointed look. "I can't."

He shrugged. "So? I didn't feel like it."

"You always feel like it," she accused.

He scrunched his nose. "Not tonight."

Airlia eyed him. "Are you sick?"

"No."

"Did you get in trouble?"

"No."

"Did your mom make you stay back?"

"No."

"Then why?"

Hagan let out a dramatic sigh, flopping onto his back. "You ask too many questions."

She shoved him again. "Tell me."

He turned his head, dark eyes locking onto hers. "Cause I don't want you to be alone."

Her chest squeezed, and she quickly looked away, kicking at the dirt. "I'm fine being alone. "

Hagan rolled his eyes. "Sure, you are."

She grumbled but didn't argue. After a moment, she asked, "Do you think I'll ever shift?"

Hagan was quiet for a bit, then said, "Yeah."

Airlia turned to him, frowning. "How do you know?"

He smirked. "I just do."

She narrowed her eyes. "That's a dumb answer."

"You're dumb," he shot back.

She gasped, shoving him harder this time. He only laughed, dodging away before she could do it again.

One Year Later

Hagan wiped the dirt off his hands and grinned down at Airlia. "Okay, stand like this."

Airlia copied his stance, legs apart, fists up, brow furrowed in concentration. "Like this?"

"Almost." He stepped closer, nudging her foot with his own. "Wider. You'll fall over if someone pushes you."

She adjusted, biting her lip. "Like this?"

He gave a sharp nod. "Good. Now punch me."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"Punch me," he repeated, tapping his chin. "Right here."

She hesitated, then swung. It was clumsy, and she barely made contact before Hagan caught her wrist and twisted her arm slightly, correcting her form.

"Too slow," he said smugly.

Airlia scowled. "You're bigger than me. "

"And that shouldn't stop you from trying," he countered. "Use my size against me"

She grumbled but listened as he showed her how to punch properly, how to shift her weight, how to dodge instead of just taking the hit. She was so focused that she didn't notice when someone else approached.

"Hey, can I help?"

They both turned to see Dain standing nearby, arms crossed.

Airlia brightened. "Really?"

But before she could say more, Hagan stepped in front of her. "No."

Dain blinked. "Why not?"

"Cause I'm teaching her," Hagan said firmly.

Dain raised an eyebrow. "So? I can teach her too."

Hagan's jaw tightened. "She doesn't need more than one teacher."

Airlia peeked around him, confused. "Hale, it's not a big deal—"

"Yes, it is," Hagan said quickly, not looking at her.

Dain smirked. "Are you jealous?"

Hagan's ears turned red. "No!"

Airlia tilted her head. "Are you?"

Hagan turned on her. "Do you want him to teach you?"

She frowned. "I mean... I don't mind—"

"Then go ask someone else," Hagan muttered, turning away.

Dain laughed. "Wow, possessive much? She has even changed your name! "

Hagan ignored him, stalking off.

Airlia watched him go, then turned to Dain with a sigh. "Now look what you did."

Dain just grinned. "Bet he doesn't even know why he's mad."

She bit her lip, watching Hagan's retreating back. Maybe he did know. Maybe she did too.

And maybe... she didn't mind.

One afternoon, the two of them lay in a daisy-filled meadow, the sun warm against their skin.

they had just polished off Hagan's eleventh birthday cake from yesterday.

He lay on his back, chewing lazily on a stalk of grass, while Airlia sat cross-legged beside him, weaving a daisy chain with small, nimble fingers.

"You're making that wrong," Hagan teased, watching her from the corner of his eye.

Airlia shot him a look. "I am not. I've been making these since I was little."

Hagan smirked. "Then why does it look like it'll fall apart in five minutes?"

She huffed, tossing the unfinished chain at him. He caught it, laughing, before sitting up. Then, he proceeded to show her how it was done. She bent her head and he rumbled in a fake voice crackling with the beginnings of puberty "And I crown thee, Queen Lia"

The sun dipped low, casting a golden glow around her, making her hair gleam like firelight.

Hagan swallowed, something warm blooming in his chest .

Without thinking, he leaned forward.

Airlia blinked at him but did not move away.

Their lips met in a soft, close-lipped kiss, fleeting and innocent.

When Hagan pulled back, he felt light-headed. She was staring at him with wide eyes, her fingers tightening in the grass beneath her.

For a long moment, neither spoke.

Then, finally, she smiled, a secret kind of smile, and whispered, "No one else gets to call you this, you know."

Hagan frowned. "Call me what?"

She grinned, tapping his nose lightly before turning away. "Hail"

Hagan groaned, but he was grinning as he tackled her into the flowers.

She laughed as they tumbled together, their childhood innocence untouched, unbroken.

Hagan felt certain—they would always be happy together.