383- Echoes of Astraluna
POV Viktor Averwyn:
That day, I felt on the verge of exploding.
Rage, my old companion, dominated me violently.
I wanted to run free through the forests, invade enemy camps, rip off heads and hearts, keep going without stopping until I reached Lucian’s territory and ended him. Then I would take my daughter and make sure she was safe.
Two weeks without news from Katarina, and I could barely contain my worry. That was the day of the note, and if she didn’t leave one, I feared I would lose control and do something reckless. Like running out in desperation. And that would mean putting everyone at risk, including Seraphine.
I saw myself divided. I had my obligations to my people as their alpha. That guaranteed the future of our kind there, which had been threatened for so long. And I couldn’t even imagine anything that would risk the life of the woman who slept in my arms every night. That, above all, had become my priority.
My wolf completely agreed, always alert. And I began to think, more and more, that my instinctive, animal side had recognized her before my rational mind did. But the rational part was there too. It was insane and relentless: I wanted her with me forever. Whether or not she was my fated mate, whether or not she could endure my mark—none of it mattered. It was her.
I would do anything to protect her, and that meant continuing in that war and coming out victorious. Even if it prevented me from reaching Adelina. And there lay my dilemma. And my guilt. As if I were choosing Seraphine and my pack over my daughter. The first time, driven by my wolf. But now, by the man.
I spent the day immersed in the advantages of the mines, where a large haul of rare diamonds brought good news. They would be processed, cut, and stored for future trade. But my mind stayed fixed on the expectation of the note, far too nervous.
The war continued, with advances on their side, but much slower than they intended. Whenever they took part of the land, my wolves would strike unexpectedly, emerging from secret passages, scattering more bombs or silver traps.
Two direct attacks occurred. I lost few wolves during the fights—most returned unharmed—but the opposing side struggled to recover. The problem was that new packs kept arriving, and I was certain there was a greater power behind it, pushing them forward with everything they had.
The Elders I had known all my life—honorable and kind—would have already resolved that issue if it were in their interest. For some reason of their own, they supported it. That only confirmed my suspicion.
By late afternoon, I could barely stand it and left the office. I ran, nearly fully transformed, through the forests above, not stopping to catch my breath. Burning off rage and energy, feeling caged and surrounded. I needed to think of new solutions, to truly understand the right path forward.
I reached the waterfall where I had taken Seraphine, also Adelina’s favorite. Despite the cold that day, with cutting winds and a heavy sky, I tore off my clothes and dove into the icy water. It did little to calm my anger.
I swam from one side to the other, then slipped behind the strong cascade, sitting on the wet stone that formed the cave. My mind never stopped working.
My eyes followed the constant, roaring curtain. Until they began to blur, and I stopped focusing on the problems. I let it flow, knowing it was another memory.
It wasn’t the falling water. It was white snow piling up outside the window. Inside, fireplaces and a wood-burning stove were lit.
A familiar warmth that brought me peace.
A little boy played with handmade toys on the rug in the center of the room. Around a rustic wooden table, I saw a trio in front of me. Lioara, with her sleek black hair loose and shining. Aslan, with his white braid and glowing eyes. And, silent, a tall, strong young man with dark green eyes.
He was saying something, his features younger but still very familiar.
Aldren.
I tried to focus, as it seemed distant. Then I heard his voice:
“But they’ve always been your best friends, mother.”
“I know. We’ve been here in Astraluna for centuries. We built a true home.” She held a mug with both hands, steam rising from the tea inside. Her expression was full of regret. “I’m not stating anything for certain.”
“They’re suspicions,” our father added. “They’ve been acting strange. It seems like they’re planning something.”
“Against us? What do you think?” Aldren turned to me.
I don’t know if I answered. I couldn’t hear or see myself—I only knew I was there. He frowned, worried. I think I was expecting the worst too.
I tried not to hear the waterfall or feel the cold water on my skin. I focused on the warmth of the house, the sound of burning wood, and the conversation.
“I promised I would teach Lucian to hunt when he grew up. He’s only two, but he’s strong and clever. Edric loves playing with Konrad. We’re all one family, father,” Aldren continued.
“They’re innocent babies. I’m talking about their parents—the Cyndrael and Tharengard.”
“But what’s the problem?”
My mind worked through my father’s response and my mother’s troubled expression. He was the one who answered:
“I discovered they’ve been meeting with the Elders without our presence. And that’s forbidden—all alphas must be present. Besides, Lioara has had some bad premonitions about them.”
“In my dreams, I see fire and death. And the packs of Tharengard and Cyndrael with blood in their eyes.”
Aldren fell silent. We had experience with her—she never got things wrong. She almost seemed more like a witch than a she-wolf. Perhaps she was influenced by the large number of gypsies and witches who had always lived peacefully among us. Sometimes I wondered if she didn’t carry their blood in her veins.
My mother looked at me, forcing a smile, but worried. As if I were supposed to say something. She shook her head.
“No one knows, my son. They’ve always made the rules and regulated the packs. After so much chaos and death, the fights and hunts by humans, the struggles for power, we almost went extinct. It was the Elders who united and strengthened us. They’re the ones encouraging us to return to our origins in the Tharnak. But your father and I are happy here.”
“In the Tharnak, they say the magic is greater,” Aslan added.
“How can they have so much power if they’re old and weak?” Aldren frowned.
“Because they are descendants of the oldest shapeshifters. Not very combative, but among the wisest. Their physical frailty didn’t diminish the magical power they were born with. The prophecy says they are immortal, but they will never be alphas or kings. It’s a trade-off, my son. They make laws, value peace, but must answer to and submit to the clans.”
I panicked when everything suddenly disappeared, before I could truly grasp the full extent of it.
“Fuck!”
I pushed through the waterfall and swam back to the shore. As I dressed, I wondered if I was mixing things up in my head.