Wren’s POV

There’s a chill running down my spine. It reaches my feet, these shuffling in the sand from vertigo. Down this giant dune, Kilian’s men encircle us by thousands.
He stands proudly before them.
My Alpha.
He’s wrapped in a black combat suit, his helmet tucked under his arm, dark red paint slashed across his face, bearing the markings of a fierce warrior.
I watch Kilian’s arm pull a box out in the shadow of his vest.
He strikes a match, phosphor, rubbing against the matchbox, fizzing my ears as the stick ignites.
Howling and cheering engulf the night as he tosses the match into a heap of carts and flammable debris.
Across the desert, dusk and Galathena, Kilian’s aura rules my heart.
He has me all.
With a mighty hand in mine, he steps forth—the flames, shooting for the sky, glowing gold in his eyes.
And then, a smile draws on his fire-licked face. Soon follows words growling in echoes against Tilmer Moutain. “Wolves of The Sand Rose Pack, tomorrow marks the beginning of a new era, one of our own! Tomorrow, we rejoice with kings and queens, sink our fangs in our enemies’ skin, and feel their last breath rush as we become alive! Let us forge the way, one of justice! Tomorrow, our enemies will watch us rise! They will watch!”
A loud thrum emerges from the crowd, and in unison, these wolves war-cry, “VU-RAAAH, VU-RAAAAH, VU-RAAAH!”
I can’t help thinking this bonfire is an omen to what awaits us. It’s a matter of hours now. As drums and strange tribal music sound across the wind, I think of the bombs about to fall on us.
Pallamir’s fleet was spotted near Quagmire. The Spaceships seem to be waiting, perhaps for King Daryl’s armada...
“So this is it. You bring me to your priestesses, shove some cryptic omen in my head, and a dick in my mouth, and as soon as we’re back, we party till we die?!” I’m contemplating this massive blaze taking shape, my feet sinking into the sand. To be honest, the whole of me is sinking. Not in the sand. Inside.
“I said we would celebrate our latest victory, and that’s what we’re doing,” Kilian whispers. The iris of his eye resembles the flames, red gems appearing against the dark. In every way, he lives up to his nickname: the demon ghost.
This very demon glides a thumb under my wet eye, the smoke running between us, confusing my spleen with burning stings. The gusts are violent tonight, and as the elements blow against my back, I bury myself in Kilian. I’m trying not to wince and maintain my brave soldier persona, as Rio likes to say. But I can’t. And as much as I want to hold them back, my thoughts whisper, “My life will end tomorrow.”
Arms want to make me believe it’s not the case. They press down on me, ensuring I stay against this endless source of warmth. A murmur touches my lips. “No one will die tomorrow. I’ll be your watchdog, bodyguard, and shield, little wolf.”
I don’t need a protector. I need a fucking jet! “Why don’t we fly away? Hide in the Demeter?” My thoughts are spinning again. I push myself away, a strong feeling of howling at the three moons above us.
My wrist is immediately snatched. My heels purl in the sand, and soon my chest bumps into Kilian’s.
“The Demeter was locked by three Pallamir warships two hours ago. Laura and the rest of the passengers have already been evacuated. If we go there, we die,” he grates.
“They are going to make a big hole, like a massive crate, stupid wolf!”
“Spades!” Kilian’s losing it. He’s full of ticks. Scratching his head every two seconds, shaking his wrist, chewing his lip like it’s a constant itch.
I knew it! He knows it’s over!
But then, this finger sliding down my nose bridge deflects my stress.
“We’ll fly in ghost mode. It’s familiar territory for us. The crevasses and the canyons. Please, Spades, have hope.”
He ends his words in my mouth, shutting my own.
Hope may not be in my hands, but a drink sure would be good.
#
Kilian left me for some social Alpha chit-chat with his Gammas, and here I am, left to hunch over a metallic board temporarily serving as a bar, my feet submerged in grit, boots somewhere, probably lost under a mound of sand. What? I love the feeling of sand under my toes. I mean, who doesn’t?
They drink Cadonite, alcohol that’s as old as the world, distilled from recycled water and macerated roots of a Mustar plant that grows anywhere it’s seeded. Hats off to the savant who created the Mustar. Because now, the whole galaxy can get squiffed no matter the planet or conditions.
“Spades...”
I turn my tired head to the left. “Hi, Joy.”
“What’s with the long face?” she says, snatching my cup away from my weak grip.
“I’m ecstatic, can’t you see? We won a battle. Isn’t it great?..”
“I know,” she chuckles. “If we celebrated every time we won a victory, Pallamir would be an all-night club.”
Our sniggers alloy into one.
But they don’t last.
“The crew is leaving. Just came to say goodbye,” Joy’s voice is broken but not as much as my state. Her words just shattered a place in me. Its scope is so broad that I am still trying to pinpoint where the pain comes from.
Leaving...
“So you’re feeling some heat in approach and let the wingless die in the sand? Way to go, Chimera...” Fuck.
In my cup, my eyes find refuge, the liquid clearer than air, like Joy’s rationale. Who could blame the Chimeras for wanting to live for another day? Certainly not me.
Joy’s left cheek is sucked in. There’s no need for guilt, girl. I get it.
“While I was fiddling with my Jet, an order came through. Alpha Hayden wants us to return. On Ship 32, to be precise,” she says, turning her head upward.
“Joy, you do know you’re going to be arrested, right?”
“He’s our Alpha and will always be. Orders are orders.”
Pfff, wolves, and their loyalty... Thank goodness my relationship with hierarchy isn’t like theirs.
Uncomfortable laughter follows. “We’re going to try to play the rescuing your daughter card. It will work.”
“Well, good luck with that. The old man wants nothing to do with me.”
“Keep the faith, Spades,” she says, leaving me with my last, lone self.
“Wait!”
My sharp intonation catches her eye. “What is it, Spades?”
I can feel her heart hanging in the air. Count every ragged exhale.
I’m aching.
United, we said.
The word Forever is part of our creed...
17 years.
17 years of training, entering the Chimera squad and fighting together.
A team.
Flying as one.
It’s all I know.
Airborne... we danced amongst the stars.
Together.
It’s all I know.
...All I know.
And I watch it go.
