?? Freya
The tea was warm, floral, and deceptively strong.
Much like Calista.
“I still don’t understand why the Sol Court keeps three separate calendars,” I muttered, blowing gently across the rim of my cup. “One for seasons, one for festivals, and one for celestial shifts. That feels excessive.”
Calista stretched along the stone bench, dark curls spilling over her shoulder like ink against sunlight. “It’s not excessive. It’s unpredictable management.”
“That’s not a thing.”
“It is when you live with Sol Fae,” she replied lightly. “Tempest Fae build schedules. Sol Fae burn through them.”
I snorted. “So Tempest Court is structure, and Sol Court is just… vibes?”
“Dangerous vibes,” she corrected. “They thrive on intensity. Passion. Impulse. Which is precisely why they need three calendars to keep themselves from setting something important on fire.”
From the outer edge of the garden, beyond the carved stone railing, the land dipped into a wide golden stretch of field.
It shimmered softly beneath the afternoon light.
My breath caught.
“Is that…” I leaned forward slightly. “The Golden Field?”
Calista followed my gaze. “Yes.”
“Elian told me about it,” I murmured. “The place where the kingdoms meet.”
“It’s more than that,” she said quietly. “Elmaris. Illorath. Wraithmere. All three once converged there. The ley lines run deepest beneath that soil. It’s the heart of Mythara.”
Something settled strangely in my chest.
The field didn’t just shine.
It pulsed.
Soft. Subtle. Alive.
For a moment, the air around me shifted.
A hum low and distant, like something vast turning beneath the soil.
Wait.
Near the far bend in the field—
Something moved.
Or maybe it was only the grass.
But the pull in my ribs tightened, warm and insistent.
Watching.
Calling.
“Freya.”
I blinked.
Calista was studying me now.
“You just went very still.”
“I—” I hesitated. “Do you ever feel like the land is trying to get your attention?”
Her expression changed. Not alarmed. Not dismissive.
Measuring.
“Sometimes,” she said carefully. “But usually that means I should walk away from whatever is about to happen.”
A breath left me slowly.
The hum softened.
The field became only light and wind again.
Calista’s gaze drifted past me toward the palace path.
“Oh no,” she murmured.
I frowned. “What?”
“Brace yourself.”
I turned… and there he was.
Elian, walking through the garden like the world had been arranged specifically for his entrance.
Relaxed posture. Effortless grin. Gold-threaded coat catching the light. His hair, almost luminous in the afternoon’s glow.
“Oh no indeed,” I muttered.
Calista laughed softly. “Try not to stare.”
“That’s impossible.”
She smirked. “I know.”
He stopped when he saw us.
Or more specifically, when he saw me.
Calista’s lips twitched.
“Afternoon ladies,” he called, as if he hadn’t just physically reacted to my existence.
“Your Highness,” Calista replied smoothly.
Unfortunately, I was too busy to greet him.
Too busy staring.
At his wings.
I had seen them before. Of course I had.
But I had never really looked.
Not like this.
The golden feathers shifted with each subtle movement of his shoulders, catching the sunlight and throwing it back in soft, liquid flashes. Light ran along the edges like it lived there. Each feather layered perfectly over the next. Massive, deliberate, powerful.
They weren’t just beautiful.
They were… remarkable.
Alive in a way that felt intentional.
Elian noticed.
His jaw tightened slightly.
Heat climbed my neck.
“I—” I cleared my throat. “Do they always do that?”
Calista nearly choked on her tea.
Elian went rigid.
“Do what?” he asked carefully.
“That,” I said helplessly, gesturing vaguely at the enormous golden appendages behind him.
“They are not doing anything,” he replied with great dignity.
They shifted again.
Calista stood abruptly. “Oh, I’ve just remembered I left something incredibly important somewhere else.”
“Don’t—”
Too late. She was gone.
Traitor.
The courtyard suddenly felt much larger. Much quieter.
Elian approached slowly.
“You were staring,” he said.
“They’re very… large,” I answered honestly.
He huffed a laugh despite himself. “Oh? I suppose I do have one of the largest ones.”
I stepped closer without listening to whatever nonsense he was spewing.
The warmth coming off the wings wasn’t sharp.
It was steady.
Like standing near a stone that had been sitting in sunlight all day.
“They’re beautiful,” I murmured.
Something in his expression shifted.
“Freya,” he said quietly.
I didn’t look up. I just moved closer.
Slowly. Carefully.
My hand lifted without thinking.
The feathers brushed my fingertips first, softer than they looked.
I let my fingers slide gently through them.
??Elian
It was happening before I registered it.
Freya stepped closer. Too close.
Her hand lifted. I should have stopped her.
Her fingers slid into my feathers… And everything detonated.
POOF.
My wings exploded open.
A full, blazing unfurl.
Gold burst outward in a violent arc, light flooding the courtyard like the gates of heaven had just been thrown wide. The sound alone echoed like a banner snapping in a storm.
“I—what—don’t—”
Gods.
Words failed me.
My body reacted before my mind caught up. Heat surged up my spine. My heart slammed so hard it felt like it might split my ribs.
“Freya—” I tried.
It came out strangled.
Half a sound.
She blinked at me, startled, but not afraid.
That made it worse.
Because she didn’t know.
She didn’t know what she had just done.
I staggered back. Stumbled.
And then did the only thing my instincts allowed.
I dropped.
Knees drawn up. Wings dragging behind me in full golden disgrace.
I wrapped them around myself immediately.
Cocoon. Shield.
Shimmering wall of humiliation.
The mask of confidence and charm. Shattered to pieces.
“Gods-damned wings,” I muttered into the feathers. “Stupid, traitorous disasters.”
They tightened. As if offended.
“And you,” I hissed at myself, “are a catastrophe. You’re a prince. You’re composed. You don’t just… explode. Over a girl.”
I dropped my forehead to my knees.
I hated this. I hated that I couldn’t control it. I hated that she’d seen.
Then… A sound. Soft. A giggle.
I froze.
Footsteps brushed the stones.
And then—
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Her fingers touched my wing again.
Gentle. Curious.
I nearly jolted. But I didn’t.
Because her voice followed, warm with wonder.
“Wow,” she whispered. “They’re so soft.”
She tapped the arch lightly. “Hello in there?”
I stayed very still.
My heart was pounding so loud I was sure she could hear it through the feathers.
Then… She slid her fingers between them. Carefully.
Parted the wings like velvet drapes. And looked at me.
Light filtered through the gold, bathing her face in warm glow.
Her eyes were impossibly kind.
“You know,” she said softly, “you really are beautiful.”
Something inside my chest split wide open.
“Don’t hide yourself,” she added gently.
My throat tightened. I moved before I could overthink it.
Reached for her. Pulled her down against me.
Careful. Reverent. Completely.
My wings closed around us instinctively, folding into a vast golden shield.
Her body fit against mine like it belonged there.
Her breath hitched slightly.
Then softened.
“I feel it too,” she whispered.
My heart was a drum against her ear.
She could absolutely hear it.
I swallowed.
“Freya,” I said quietly.
She tilted her head up to look at me.
“Do you know the significance of wings?”
The words came out rough. Heavy.
Because she needed to understand. Because this wasn’t just touch. This was vow.
And if she didn’t know that… Then I was already too far gone.
?? Freya
My heart was racing.
What did I just break?
“Significance?” I repeated faintly.
His wings were still wrapped around us, warm and heavy and far too large to pretend hadn’t just detonated in a burst of golden light.
I swallowed.
“They’re feathers,” I said, blinking at him. “What do you mean significance?”
Had I pulled one? Was that why he exploded like that? Had I hurt him?
My hands immediately dropped from his wings.
“I’m so sorry,” I blurted. “I didn’t know. I thought they were just, I mean not just, obviously they’re incredible but I didn’t realize they were… I don’t know, ceremonial?”
I pulled back slightly, panic climbing my spine.
“Did I tear one? Is that why they… did that? Is that a pain reaction? Because if it is I absolutely did not mean to and I promise I will never touch them again.”
He tightened his hold on me. Grounding.
“Freya.”
“Yes?”
He took a slow breath.
“Feathers.”
I blinked. “What?”
“In courtship, among royal fae bloodlines,” he clarified. “They offer them. To the one they intend to build with. It strengthens the bond.”
My mouth parted slightly.
“And ” he said, voice lowering, “that makes our wings.. Sacred.”
“The only hands that touch them,” he continued, “are family. Or attendants assisting with cleaning. Carefully. Professionally.”
My stomach dropped.
“And anyone else?” I asked faintly.
“Anyone else,” he said, meeting my eyes, “would be stopped before they tried.”
Oh.
Oh no.
I swallowed hard.
“But I wasn’t stopped,” I said slowly.
“No.”
My heart began to race again.
“Was that… good?” I asked carefully. “Or bad?”
He actually laughed.
Soft. Low.
“You nearly sent me into cardiac collapse,” he admitted. “But no. It wasn’t bad.”
I exhaled shakily.
“I didn’t know,” I said quickly. “I swear I didn’t. I would never disrespect you like that. I won’t do it again.”
That hurt more than I expected. I meant it.
He studied my face for a long moment.
Then… He chuckled.
“Freya,” he said gently, “if I truly wanted you to stop…”
His wings began to shift.
Slowly. Deliberately. Unfurling.
“I would not be allowing you to be this close to me.”
His wings unfurled slowly from around us.
Warm light spilled outward in controlled arcs of gold.
He was looking at me… And then he wasn’t.
His gaze flicked over my shoulder. His entire body went still.
“Freya,” he said quietly.
Something in his voice made my stomach drop.
“Be still.”
I froze instantly.
“Don’t move,” he added. “And don’t make any sudden sounds.”
My heart slammed. What was behind me? Was something there? Was it dangerous?
“Elian…” I whispered.
“It will be fine,” he said, voice steady. “Just quiet. You can turn around slowly.”
Slowly. I turned. And the breath left my lungs.
They weren’t anything I’d seen before. They were enormous.
Wolf-shaped. But larger. Lean and powerful, coats polished amber-gold like molten metal beneath glass. Their fur shimmered faintly, solar runes surfacing and fading beneath the surface of their skin.
Their tails trailed light.
There were five of them. No. Six.
The one at the front stepped forward.
Elian’s voice lowered behind me. “This is the last pack of the Solhounds.”
My pulse skipped.
“The Solhounds?” I whispered. “You said they stay in the Golden Field.”
“They do.”
“But they’re here.”
“Yes.”
The alpha moved first.
Elian stepped forward cautiously, hand slightly raised.
But the creature barely glanced at him.
Its gaze shifted. Locked onto me. Then walked straight toward me.
Every instinct screamed not to run. It stopped directly in front of me. Its eyes were like a sunrise.
Soft. Steady. Intelligent.
“Elian?” I breathed.
“I—” He sounded almost incredulous. “That’s… not typical.”
I did something reckless. I lifted my hand. The alpha pressed its massive head into my palm.
Its entire body leaned into me, circling once before settling at my side, tail of light brushing against my legs.
It looked up at me. And stayed.
Elian exhaled slowly behind me. “Unbelievable.”
Movement stirred and the rest of the pack stepped forward.
Different sizes. Some leaner. One smaller, watchful.
And then—
She emerged.
Sleeker. Narrower frame. Watchful eyes.
Two small pups trotted behind her, light flickering clumsily along their tails.
“Is she the omega?” I asked softly.
Elian stepped forward and dropped to one knee.
“Solona.”
The sleek hound bowed her head. Then immediately pounced him. The pups followed.
He laughed. Actual, unguarded laughter, as golden creatures collided into him.
“I missed you too,” he said, steadying one of the pups as it scrambled over his shoulder.
Elian rose slowly, brushing ashes of fur from his coat.
“I’ve known this pack most of my life,” he explained. “Solona and I used to spend hours near the Golden Field. Before she started having pups to expand their pack.”
“And the one currently claiming me?” I asked.
“Cyrus,” he said, watching the alpha with narrowed curiosity. “He shouldn’t be this interested in you.”
Cyrus huffed softly and leaned harder into my side.
“He’s not…. Burning me,” I said quietly, still petting him.
“No,” Elian agreed. “They will never burn the ones they choose to protect.”
He glanced toward the Golden Field in the distance. “It’s unusual for them to leave their perimeter. Unless something significant occurred.”
I raised a brow. “Like your wing poof?”
His head snapped toward me. “It was not a poof.”
“It absolutely poofed.”
“It reacted.”
“It poofed.”
He exhaled sharply, fighting a smile. Solona nudged one of the pups toward him again. As if… she wanted Elian to hold him.
Then the pack began to shift. Cyrus stepped back reluctantly. Solona gave one final, steady look at Elian. Then the pack turned.
Light trailing behind them as they moved back toward the Golden Field.
I watched until the last flicker vanished into gold.
“They’re beautiful,” I whispered.
“They are,” Elian agreed quietly.
“I hope I see them again.”
He glanced at me, something unreadable passing through his expression.
“You will,” he said. “I’ll make sure of it.”
His wings settled fully now.
And as we walked back toward the palace, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the Solhounds hadn’t just wandered into the garden.
They had come for something.
And I wasn’t entirely sure it was him.
??
She was quiet the entire walk back.
Her hands were clasped in front of her. Eyes distant. Expression unreadable.
I let her have it. Sometimes humans processed things differently.
We made it halfway up the stone path before she stopped abruptly.
“Freya?”
She turned slowly toward me.
Her eyes were enormous.
“That,” she said, very deliberately, “was. So. Thrilling.”
I blinked. She burst.
“I just met magical wolves.”
“…What.”
“Magical wolves!” she repeated. “Like in the books! Only they weren’t wolves but they were definitely wolves. Just… shinier.”
I stared at her. Books? What books?
“We don’t have wolves in Elmaris,” I said automatically.
“That is not the point!” she said, nearly vibrating. “They were real. And they bowed. And one of them—” she pressed a hand dramatically to her chest “leaned on me.”
“Yes,” I said carefully.
“I touched him,” she continued breathlessly. “Not just one of them. The alpha. The leader. I touched the leader.”
Mhmm you did. You absolutely did.
“And you,” she added suddenly, pointing at me. “I thought you were a goner.”
“…A what?”
“When the omega pounced on you! My heart stopped. I thought that was it. Prince of Elmaris taken down by a glowing wolf mother.”
I exhaled slowly. “She was greeting me.”
“It did not look like greeting,” Freya insisted. “It looked like a tactical takedown.”
I rubbed my temple. Wolves. Books. Tactical takedown. What in Mythara was she talking about?
“You said wolves,” I ventured cautiously. “What are wolves?”
She stopped mid-ramble.
“You don’t know what wolves are?”
“I asked for a reason.”
She blinked at me like I’d confessed ignorance of air.
“Wolves are…” she made a vague clawing motion with her hands. “Big forest dogs. Gray. Sharp teeth. They howl at the moon.”
“…Why.”
“I’m not sure. Because it’s dramatic?”
I stared at her.
“They travel in packs,” she continued excitedly. “Alpha. Omega. All of that. I used to read about them all the time. They were my favorite.”
“Those sound nothing like Solhounds,” I said.
“No,” she agreed immediately. “They don’t.”
Her voice softened. “They’re better.”
That startled me. “Better?” I repeated.
“They glow,” she said reverently. “They bow. They choose. How often do you see them?”
“Here and there,” I said. “They remain near the Golden Field. They’re careful since they are the last pack.”
Her excitement dimmed slightly.
Solhounds do not breed easily. They are not common creatures. They are forged, bound, remembered.
They are not meant to be spectacle.
“They don’t appear openly,” I added. “Not without reason.”
She fell silent for a beat.
Then—
She grinned again. “I still touched the alpha.”
I sighed. “Yes. You did.”
Unbelievable.
Cyrus had chosen her without hesitation. Pressed against her. Accepted her scent. Accepted her presence.
And Solona… Solona had bowed to her.
“What book,” I asked slowly, “are you referring to?”
She beamed.
“Oh! There’s this series about—”
She launched into something about fantasy novels and human authors and imaginary beasts.
I only caught half of it. Because my thoughts were elsewhere. Wolves. Books. Human stories about pack bonds and forever mates.
And meanwhile… The last Solhound alpha had just pressed his head into her palm like she belonged there.
I looked at her while she spoke. Animated. Alive. Gesturing wildly.
She had no idea what that meant. No idea what Cyrus had done. No idea what Solona had confirmed.
She was still thrilled.
Still human.
Still unaware.
And I have a feeling this won’t be the last time something impossible… happens.
???Farren
I hadn’t meant to overhear.
I had been on my way inside when her voice carried across the stone path.
“…I touched the alpha!”
I stopped mid-step.
Freya stood halfway up the palace approach, gesturing wildly with both hands. Elian beside her, looking somewhere between dignified and deeply inconvenienced.
“I thought you were a goner!” she continued. “When the omega tackled you, I nearly died.”
Solhounds.
My jaw tightened.
The Solhounds left the Golden Field.
They approached her. Cyrus chose her. Solona bowed.
That does not happen.
I stepped fully into view as they reached the entrance.
“Elian,” I greeted evenly. “Freya.”
She beamed at me. “Farren! You would not believe—”
“I heard enough,” I said, softer than my thoughts.
Her smile didn’t falter.
“May I borrow my brother for a moment?” I asked her.
She blinked once, then shrugged easily. “Of course. I was going to explore the east terrace anyway. There’s a fountain I haven’t investigated.”
Of course there is.
She walked off humming.
Elian looked at me.
“Study room,” I said.
He followed without argument.
The door closed behind us.
I did not sit.
“That is three,” I said.
Elian leaned casually against the shelf. “Three what?”
“Three events,” I replied. “In the time since she has arrived. The forest refusing to release her. The Heartquine approaching her. And now the Solhounds abandoning their perimeter.”
Elian did not interrupt.
“Cyrus chose her,” I continued. “Solona bowed.”
“Yes.”
I crossed the room slowly.
“I detect no magic from her.”
That was the part I could not reconcile. No thread signature. No court alignment. No residual imprint.
Nothing.
“She is human,” I said flatly. “And yet Mythara responds.”
Elian exhaled.
“Perhaps,” he said carefully, “her being human is precisely the point.”
I looked at him sharply.
“When have we ever had humans within our realm?” he continued. “Truly within it.”
“Never.”
“Then maybe,” he said quietly, “this is what Mythara needed.”
I scoffed. “Impossible.”
He shrugged lightly. “She’s already proven the impossible possible.”
I turned toward the window.
Beyond the palace walls, the forest rolled outward. Beyond that, the Golden Field shimmered faintly in the distance.
Why would the land react to a human girl?
“Ensure she does not grow reckless,” I said finally.
Elian’s head tilted.
“She walks toward creatures without hesitation,” I added. “It will not always end in wonder.”
A faint smile touched his mouth.
“Perhaps,” he said softly, “it will.”
I did not return it.
“Be certain she understands danger.”
He inclined his head once. Then he left. The door shut.
I remained at the window.
The Golden Field glowed in the distance.
The forest shifted.
I narrowed my eyes slightly.
Who are you, Freya?
And why is Mythara answering you?
