Chapter2 My closest friend

Ylva's POV

On the ride back, I sat with my head against the car window and watched the compound walls pass by in sections. Marta drove.

She didn't say anything, but through the pack-link I could feel what she was holding back—something compressed and hot, reined in hard but not quite contained.

It's my fault. I swallowed hard, the knot in my throat refusing to loosen.

If I were stronger... if I had been born an Alpha, or even a Beta with some real power in my blood, I wouldn't have let everyone be dissatisfied with me.

Briar let out a low, rumbling growl, the sound vibrating with barely contained fury.

Listen to me, you stubborn little fool. You are an Omega. That's not a flaw you can fix by wishing harder. That's not your failure, and that bitch Thelda knew exactly what she was doing when she piled on the work and the venom. She was testing you, pushing you on purpose to make you crack, because she enjoys watching Omegas squirm under her heel.

Despite her sharp edges and quick temper, I heard the fierce protectiveness beneath every clipped syllable. It wasn't gentle, but it was real.

Thank you, Briar, I thought softly.

She made a low sound in the back of my chest that wasn't quite a growl, more like the equivalent of an eye roll.

Don't get sentimental on me now, she muttered, the words clipped and irritable.

Ivy jumped from the back seat onto my lap and headbutted me under the chin.

I came back to myself.

The car pulled up to the courtyard gate, and I saw him.

Gold hair, dark jacket, the wolf-fang silver pendant at his left ear catching the last of the evening light. He had his hands in his pockets, and when the headlights hit him, he took two steps forward—and the look on his face was the kind that needed no translation.

He'd been waiting for me.

My throat went tight. I had the door open before the car had fully stopped.

Soren came forward and caught me around the waist, lifted me clean off the ground, and turned once, and I laughed against his shoulder and hit him on the arm. "People are watching."

"Let them watch." He set me down and tilted his head, pressing his lips to my forehead—two full seconds before he pulled back, then dropped lower and brushed the corner of my mouth, his voice quiet and warm with something like a smile in it.

"I missed you."

My face went hot. I pushed at his jaw. "It's only been a few hours."

"A few hours apart and I still missed you." He glanced down at my ears, unhurried, and his expression softened. His thumb came up and traced the space just beside one of the wolf-bone beads. "You wore them today."

I turned my face into the side of his neck and breathed him in. Whatever Mrs. Ashford had said, all the things I'd been pressing flat all afternoon—his scent pushed all of it back.

For you, I thought, I can take all of it. Every single thing. As long as you're still here. As long as you're still mine.

But then the dream crept back in—the dark red spreading across the ground, his jacket torn open, his name stuck silent in my throat—and something uneasy moved through me all over again, slow and cold, like a warning I didn't know how to read.

His arm tightened around me. He didn't say anything. He just stood there at the courtyard gate and let me lean.

Ivy wound around both our ankles once, then walked herself inside.

The cook had laid out dinner and stepped out—a few of my favorites, which meant Soren had said something to the kitchen.

I barely touched any of it. I pushed things around with my fork and stared at the table until the back of my throat went tight, and then I heard myself say it:

"Do you really have to go to Luun?"

Soren set down his knife and fork.

"I don't want you to go." My voice came out smaller than I meant it to, and before I could pull it back, the tears came with it—just a few, quiet ones, the kind that showed up before you'd even decided to cry.

He didn't answer right away. After a moment, he pushed back from the table, came around to my side, and lifted me out of the chair entirely—sat down on the couch with me sideways across his lap, one hand finding my jaw, his thumb brushing the damp from the corner of my eye.

He pressed his lips to the top of my head and said, low and muffled, "I don't want to go either."

I gripped the front of his jacket and pushed my face into it. "Then don't."

"Ylva."

"I know," I said before he could. "I know what you're going to say. I just—" I didn't finish. Swallowed the rest of it. "I haven't been sleeping. I keep having nightmares, and every time I wake up, the first thing I do is start worrying about you."

He pulled back just enough to look at me. His thumb came under my chin and tipped my face up—not forceful, just steady. His eyes were doing that thing they only did when he was looking at me and nowhere else.

"I'm coming back," he said.

Then he leaned down and kissed me—unhurried, certain, the kind of kiss that felt less like affection and more like a promise being made in a language that didn't need words.

I closed my eyes and felt his hand come up around the back of my neck, drawing me in.

When he finally lifted his head, his forehead came to rest against mine. Our breathing was uneven.

"Trust me," he said.

I did trust him. I always had. That was the part that made it so hard—it wasn't that I doubted him. I knew he meant everything he said, and I was still afraid.

He pulled me back against his chest, chin settling on top of my head. "Come somewhere with me tonight. Get out of here for a few hours."

I looked up.

"Fenric Silvermane." He said the name with a faint smile already in his voice before he'd finished saying it. "Silvermane Pack's Alpha. My closest friend. Closer than a brother, honestly."

Fenric Silvermane. The kind of name that needed no introduction in this kingdom—his pack was the wealthiest in all of Asgalia, and Silvermane's reach ran through every corner of the capital.

Though from everything I'd ever heard, he was serious to a fault, demanding of everyone around him, and not the sort of person who made you feel welcome.

I looked down at the plain sweater I'd been wearing all day, then touched the corner of my eye. Still a little swollen.

Don't embarrass yourself in front of someone like that.

Soren caught the gesture and laughed quietly. He reached over and pinched my cheek. "He looks intimidating, but actually fine."

"I believe you when you say fine," I said, pushing his hand away. "But look at the state of me—"

"You're going exactly like this." He dipped his head and pressed his lips to my temple. "He's my brother. He's not there to judge you."

Ivy jumped up onto the couch, wedged herself into the space between us, looked back and forth between our faces with her amber eyes, and yawned.

I took a slow breath and nodded.