Torn Between Two Wolves

In a tone softened by ritual humility, Theron chose to speak through the mindlink first. Mira, Isolde struggles to rear her cub alone. She knows no kin here. Among this territory, I am her only ally.

His words struck like the edge of a blade. He seemed to forget that, in truth, I too had only him since the day our bonds were sealed beneath the silver moon.

“I understand,” I replied quietly through the link. “She has endured much.”

Mira, what do you mean by that? Why do you sound so—

“I said I understand,” I repeated, my thoughts growing colder, stripped of warmth. “Is that not enough?”

Must you answer me so sharply?

“Then what would you have me say?” I asked, frustration threading through my voice.

For a moment, the bond between us went still. The silence felt heavy, like a storm gathering beyond the forest. At last, he muttered, Do as you please, before severing the mindlink.

How ironic it was. Once, when I asked why he visited Isolde’s dwelling near the eastern pines, he called me troublesome. When I sought to know when he would return from her side, he accused me of clinging too tightly. And now, even my effort to understand him drew his ire.

With a quiet exhale, I set the rune-stone aside. Worrying would not mend the fracture between us. There were still scrolls to copy and records to complete before the council’s inspection.

When the night watch concluded, I remained behind to sweep the hall and extinguish the hearth fires. Returning to the den felt unnecessary, almost burdensome.

By the time I reached home, Theron had already departed for his duties with the warriors. I cleansed myself with water drawn from the well and lay down upon the furs, hoping for rest. Yet just as sleep began to claim me, the stillness shattered by the sharp chime of the signal bell beside the bed. It was Theron’s mind reaching mine.

Mira, he pressed, his thoughts strained, my… my belly aches.

I murmured a response, though exhaustion weighed heavily upon me. Before I could rise, sleep dragged me under once more. In my dreams, I thought I heard him calling my name across the woods, but the sound faded like mist at dawn, and I let it drift away.

Later, the door creaked open. I awoke to find Theron standing by the furs, his expression drawn and pained.

“Mira, why have you grown so distant? In the past, when illness struck me, you would rush to my side with broth and herbs. You would sit through the night until my fever broke.”

Those memories were etched clearly within me. Once, when he suffered from stomach pain, I sought leave from the healer and carried remedies to his training grounds. On the journey, rain fell without mercy, soaking my hair and cloak until I appeared unworthy of a mate. His companions laughed at my disheveled state. Theron did not silence them. Instead, he later told me never to appear before his warriors again, claiming I brought him shame.

“Are you feeling better now?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “Our herb pouch may be empty. You might gather more from the healer at dawn.”

For a heartbeat, he stared at me without speaking. Then anger flared in his eyes. Gripping my arm, he demanded, Mira, how long will you persist in quarreling over Isolde? I swear upon the Moonstone, there is nothing between us!

I met his gaze calmly. “Very well.”

My composed reply only deepened his fury. With a harsh movement, he stormed out of the den, the door striking the wooden frame behind him.

When the echo faded, an unfamiliar peace settled over the chamber. The silence felt lighter than his presence had ever been.