212- Ashes for the Gods, Wounds for the Living
POV Aldren Valmorin:
In Valmorin, those who were veiled with dignity had their bodies or mortal remains burned on the pyre of the Gods, south of the forest. After keeping the chests stored, Teneris’s hour had come.
Around us, only the women who lived with her, Nala, and a few of my guards watched the chests come apart amid the flames.
At my side, her eyes fixed, Nala did not seem to grieve the departure of someone dear, but rather to fear that the same fate might also be hers. Some part of me feared that as well.
“Can you tell us what happened, Alpha Aldren?” asked Natarin, Teneris’s only true friend, because she alone had sought out my guard to try to visit her.
“Teneris disobeyed important orders and nearly killed someone who is under my protection,” I replied without looking at her.
“Where was your head, Neris…” she whispered, her voice breaking with tears.
For a few minutes, all that could be heard was the crackle of the fire consuming the wood.
The stars visible between the tree branches mingled with the smoke and the dancing sparks of the pyre.
In a few hours, only ashes would remain.
“Aldren… can we talk?” Nala whispered.
I glanced sideways at her; she was on tiptoe, trying to get closer to my ear.
“No.” That was not a good moment. My fury and remorse filled my throat—to say nothing of the rest of my body. Nor did I feel ready to be alone with her. It would be a cruel way to relive what had happened to Teneris.
“Please…” she persisted, irritating me.
I grabbed her left arm and dragged her into the forest until we were far enough away that no one could hear us.
“When did my ‘no’ become something to be questioned, Nala?” She recoiled, her dark-as-night eyes widening.
“Don’t fight with me, Aldren, I love you so much…” she said inwardly, almost without courage.
I tried to hold back a laugh, but a small, devilish piece of it escaped as a choke. Nala was about to feel the weight of my wrath.
“Bullshit you love me. You only love the perks of being the alpha’s mistress, the idea of being important. You love walking through the village knowing no one would dare confront you—that’s what you love.”
She denied it insistently, shaking her head, eyes brimming.
“Let me prove it to you. I beg you!” She tried to kneel, but I held her by the arm.
My fangs lengthened, and my beast threatened to take over after having remained inert for so long.
“That’s enough, Nala. There is no love. There is nothing. What we had ends today. Don’t worry about being alone—I’ll tell everyone you’re free.”
I would not lose control again. I would not do to her what I did to Teneris. And the only way to avoid that was to keep my distance.
“No! Aldren, no!” she pleaded, breaking into sobs.
“Look at me.” I shook her body. “Do you think there’s any chance of convincing me otherwise?” I growled, restraining the release of my claws, my senses roiling with revolt and confusion.
Even in the darkness, I watched Nala close her eyes and swallow hard.
“You’re not the same, Aldren. You’ve changed.” I released her arms and took a step back. The last thing I needed, on that infernal day, was to claim another life—especially that of yet another lover. “It’s the prisoner, isn’t it?” She opened her eyes and stared at me, full of hurt.
“Have you gone mad? What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You no longer smile around the village or make your random jokes. That unshakable posture? That’s changed too.” She paused, as if deciding whether to continue. “And… it’s not just me who noticed. Our people don’t know the reason is the prisoner, but I do,” she said, hugging herself as if she were cold.
I had given her the freedom to warm my bed and bring me information gathered wherever she went; now she was paying for yet another of my failures. Nala needed to fear me. She needed to understand that even though I valued her usefulness and goodwill, she could not challenge me. Only then would I maintain control over all the problems around me. Only then would Valmorin remain safe.
“I don’t know what stories you’re building in your head, Nala, but stop looking for ghosts where there is only dust.” I looked at her coldly, wanting to end that conversation once and for all. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I live in a world where the only certainty is change, and adapting is the bare minimum necessary for us to survive. All of us.” I crossed my arms, meeting her gaze steadily. “Sometimes tastes change, and what pleased me yesterday no longer has the same flavor today. And that has nothing to do with the prisoner. She is only that… a prisoner. And as for you…”
I paused, weighing whether I should be so direct, but it was better for her to hate me than to keep circling me, always reminding me of my mistakes. Females are territorial; to maintain coexistence between two of different packs was impossible, and there was no option of releasing my prisoner. I had only one way out. I took a deep breath before finishing:
“You are no longer of interest to me, Nala.” I stepped toward her, tasting the bitterness that marked every word. “By the way, if you’re looking for someone to love you, I suggest you look in another pack. You’ll be doing yourself a favor. And me.”
I left her in the forest and returned to the pyre, swallowing the bitterness of every word I had struck with. I did what needed to be done. The only thing someone wounded can do: wound.