Chapter 2- The Girl Who Shouldn't Exist
Sahyria POV
Kylen stared at me like I’d sprouted wings. Jaxen just kept blinking, slow and stunned like he was recalculating the meaning of life in real time.
“You’re not joking,” Kylen said. “You really don’t know.”
I tilted my head, crouched beside their fire, casually spinning one of their dropped blades between my fingers. “I don’t know a lot of things, apparently. So maybe tell me?”
Kylen ran a hand through his hair, muttered something under his breath that sounded like fuck me sideways, then crouched in front of me.
“Alright, wildling. Here’s the short version.”
What He Told Me-
There are ranks, power levels for both males and females
Males go from Emberfangs to Wyrmshards
Females are Glowkin to Myrren
But females don’t shift, ever. It’s not just rare, it’s biologically impossible.
Except… apparently not
The entire society is built around bond compatibility because males go feral if they don’t find the right match
Females soothe them, but most can’t handle high tier males
And the current female to male ratio is 10:1
“Which means females are already rare as fuck,” Jaxen said, voice quiet but sharp. “But you? You’re rarer than a fucking moonblood eclipse during a mooncall.”
I frowned. “That sounds dramatic.”
“It is dramatic,” Kylen said. “Because what you just did? Dropping ten Diremarks? That’s Myrren level. Maybe beyond. We don’t even have Myrren females anymore. You’d be....”
“Treated like a goddess,” Jaxen finished, stepping closer. “Immediately. Protected. Worshipped. Studied. You’d never be left alone again.”
That gave me pause.
My stomach tightened. I looked toward the dark trees, the silence between the rustling branches, the wind that smelled like home.
“I’m not sure that’s what I want,” I said softly.
Both men stiffened again.
“What do you mean?” Kylen asked carefully.
I stood slowly, brushing dirt off my thighs. “I mean… maybe I should ask the beasts what they think.”
Jaxen made a sound like he’d been punched.
“I’m sorry, ask the beasts?”
I blinked. “Yes.” They sure asked a lot of questions.
Kylen’s brows pulled tight. “You talk to them?”
I looked at them, confused. “You don’t?”
“No,” Jaxen snapped. “No one does. Not even the priestesses. You’re telling us you can mind-speak to the beasts?”
I nodded. “Wolves. Panthers. Birds. Even bears, though they’re grumpy about it.”
Kylen’s jaw dropped. “Holy. Fucking. Hell.”
Jaxen turned in a circle like he needed to reset the world.
“Can you show us?” he asked finally. “We need to see it. You, this isn’t something we can just… walk away from.”
I shrugged. “I can’t do it here. Not unless you want me calling down every predator in five miles.”
Kylen straightened. “Then show us. Take us where you live.”
“Your camp?” I asked, nodding to the others still kneeling or nervously standing at the treeline.
Kylen didn’t even look. “They’ll stay.”
He turned and barked a low, commanding order in a language that was more growl than speech. The other eight straightened instantly.
“Make camp,” he snapped. “No one follows. No one moves. If we’re not back by morning, send word to Blackpine.”
They nodded and got to work without question.
Kylen turned back to me. Jaxen already had his pack slung over one shoulder.
“Lead the way, wildling,” Kylen said, eyes gleaming. “Let’s see where the beasts made their queen.”
And gods help me…
I was actually excited to show them.
By the time we reached the edge of the glade, the air had shifted.
Cooler. Heavier. Almost like the forest itself was holding its breath.
Kylen and Jaxen followed close behind me, their steps cautious but quiet, their weapons untouched. Smart. They were listening to their instincts now, not their training. Out here, instincts kept you alive.
We emerged from the trees into a small clearing lit in soft moonlight. My den sat nestled against the side of a moss covered hill, half swallowed by roots and stone. A weeping willow stretched above it, its long, trailing limbs whispering in the breeze like they knew I was home.
I stopped near the center of the clearing and let the stillness settle over my skin.
And then, one by one, the wolves came.
Six of them stepped from the shadows without a sound, massive, wild eyed beasts with coats like mist and ash. They moved with lethal grace, flanking the glade until Kylen and Jaxen were completely surrounded.
Both men went still.
Kylen’s hand twitched toward the hilt strapped to his thigh, but he didn’t reach for it. Jaxen’s jaw tightened, eyes locked on the largest wolf now moving straight toward me.
I stepped forward before either of them could do something stupid. My fingers brushed against the thick fur of the alpha’s neck, and I lowered my head until our foreheads touched. His mind brushed against mine immediately, gruff, deep, and comfortingly familiar.
"You’ve brought outsiders," he said, his thoughts slow and weighted.
"They’re not enemies," I replied.
He exhaled, breath warm against my throat. "They smell of battle. And hunger."
"They smell curious," I corrected gently. "That’s not the same thing."
He didn’t respond, but I felt his acceptance in the soft crackle of energy between us. When I pulled away, he remained at my side like a sentry.
I turned toward Kylen and Jaxen. “You can come closer. Slowly.”
They moved like men walking through a dream, eyes never leaving the wolves. I could see it in their faces...the disbelief. The awe. The fear, too, but not of the wolves. Of me.
They stopped a few paces behind me.
“What are they?” Jaxen murmured.
“Direwolves,” Kylen answered for him. “Real ones. They’re supposed to be extinct this far south.”
“They’re not extinct,” I said without turning around. “They’re just selective.”
That earned me a sideways glance from Kylen. “And they… let you live here?”
“They raised me,” I said simply.
His expression shifted, something unreadable passing through those ember lit eyes. But before he could speak, the wind shifted again.
The air dropped several degrees, and a pulse of something older than time swept through the clearing. It wasn’t visible, not quite, but it shimmered beneath the skin, in the bones. The trees creaked. The wolves lifted their heads in unison and let out a low, harmonic howl that seemed to bend the moonlight itself.
Kylen took a half step back. Jaxen reached instinctively for me, then stopped, his hand trembling in the air between us.
“What the fuck was that?” Kylen asked, voice low.
“The Veil,” I whispered, shivering. “They’re listening.”
“The gods?” Jaxen’s voice cracked at the edges. “You mean the gods are...”
“They always are,” I said.
Before either of them could ask more, Grath, the elder wolf, took a deliberate step forward. He stared at them, not me, and I felt the tension coil in their muscles again.
Then, without sound, he spoke.
Not with voice or growl. Not in any language the men had ever heard before.
But I felt the words echo in my mind and saw the impact hit Kylen and Jaxen like thunder.
"She has been chosen."
The words settled into the earth like roots. Like prophecy.
Kylen staggered slightly. Jaxen stood frozen, his throat working around something he couldn’t seem to say.
“You heard that,” I said softly.
They both nodded, silent.
Kylen dragged a hand down his face and looked at me, not like I was prey, or puzzle, or even power. But like I was something ancient. Something meant.
“You aren’t like anything I’ve ever seen,” he said finally, voice stripped bare. “And I’ve seen everything.”
Jaxen didn’t speak. He was still staring at me like I’d walked out of one of the old blood laced stories their kind only half believed.
I turned back toward the wolves, brushing my fingers along Grath’s thick fur. His body pressed into mine, warm and steady.
“I’m not trying to be anything,” I said softly. “I just am.”
And behind me, Kylen murmured like a man praying for the first time in years, “And that might be the most dangerous thing of all.”