Tharon

THARON

A t our midday break the wind shifted. Metal and ozone, a storm coming from the East. My nostrils flared, sorting through the layers of scent - snow on high peaks, dust from the valley below, and underneath it all, Niam.

A glint caught my eye. Too regular to be natural, too high to be a bird. One of their machines, following us even this far into the mountains.

“We need to move.” My voice was rough, despite my attempt at restraint.

Niam looked up from adjusting the straps on her boots. “Already? But we just stopped.”

“There’s a storm coming.” Not a lie. “And we’re too exposed here.”

Her thin fingers worked the last buckle into place. Even that simple motion entranced me - the precise economy of movement, the way she tested the fit before moving to stand.

“Which way?”

I pointed up the nearest slope. Not our original path, but it would have to do. I could only hope the flying machine would lose us in the higher passes, where the winds grew treacherous.

I whistled for the villart, the scaled beast’s sharp hooves clipping over the rocks. Niam’s scent spiked with apprehension as I lifted her onto its back, but she settled into position without complaint. I swung up behind her, gathering the reins in one hand while keeping the other free to steady her if needed.

“Hold tight,” I murmured against her ear, and urged the villart forward.

“We can stop to eat once we find better shelter.”

“Fine.” She leaned back against me, just a hair. “But I expect a real meal this time, not just travel rations.”

I hid my smile. She’d grown bolder about making demands. I liked it. “I’ll see what I can hunt, once we’re safe.”

The villart’s steady gait carried us higher into the mountains. Niam’s small frame fit perfectly against me, her scent wrapping around me with each breath. The beast inside purred at her nearness. Snow dusted her shoulders, melting into the fabric of her new clothes.

“Tell me more about the Temple,” I said. “How did this horror come to be?”

She stiffened in my arms. “You won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

“Once upon a time, there was a ship that sailed through the stars.” She turned to look at me. “It’s what brought my people here, to this world.”

I adjusted my grip on the reins, processing her words. “A ship? Like the trading vessels on the coast?”

“No, much bigger. Made of metal, powered by lightning and strange forces.” Her fingers traced patterns in the villart’s mane. “When it crashed, the survivors built walls around it, sealed themselves away from your people, insisted we were the only ones on this world. The people who had been in charge on the ship, the pilots, and commanders, struggled to find a way to repair the machines they had relied upon for generations.” She tensed. “And then they developed the emergency protocols and called it a Temple.”

“At the cost of young women’s lives.” My jaw clenched at the thought.

“Yes. Without access to better resources, the ship needs living tissue to repair itself. The ones who commanded the ship in the sky became priests, found they could... connect girls to the remains. Some survived the process. Most don’t.”

The beast snarled inside me. I wanted to turn around, storm the Temple, and tear it apart with my bare hands. But Niam had a plan, and I’d promised to help her see it through.

“Perhaps the old stories were true after all,” I mused, desperate to draw her mind to anything other than her time in that cursed place. “They say the Frostlings fell from the stars in a blaze of fire. We thought they were just tales to frighten children.”

“Not tales.” She shook her head. “My people came here by accident, but we made it our home. Even if some of us turned that home into a prison.”

Snow fell harder now, the wind cutting through my cloak. Niam shivered against me.

“We should stop soon,” I said. “You need food and warmth.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re freezing. And I can hear your stomach growling.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Maybe a short rest. If you promise to tell me more about these Frostling stories.”

“Deal.” I steered the villart higher along the trail. “Though I warn you, they paint your people as fearsome creatures who steal children in the night.”

“How disappointing that you got stuck with me instead - I can barely steal myself away from anything.”

“I wouldn’t say stuck.” I breathed in her scent again, fighting the urge to bury my face in the crook of her neck. “And you managed to escape the Temple. The priests will learn to fear you, just like those creatures of legend.”

The beast rumbled its agreement. My mate was stronger than she knew. Now I just had to keep her alive long enough to prove it.

The snow blasted sideways, stinging any exposed skin. White sheets obscured everything beyond a few feet ahead. I hunched forward over Niam, trying to protect her from the worst of it. The villart’s scaled hide shed the snow, but its steps grew more hesitant on the narrowing mountain path.

A metallic glint caught my eye through the curtain of white - then another, and another. The Temple’s machines had found us.

“Hold on.” I pulled Niam closer, weighing our options. The safer route would take us down into the valley, but we’d be exposed. The pass ahead threaded between jagged peaks, barely wide enough for the villart. In this weather...

Niam’s fingers dug into my arm. “They’re getting closer.”

I made my choice. “We’re taking the pass.”

The villart balked as I urged it forward, sensing the danger. But the beast trusted my guidance, picking its way carefully along the treacherous path.

Snow plastered against my face, already freezing in my beard. The wind howled through the peaks, creating an ever-shifting wall of white. Perfect cover from the machines, but it also meant we could miss our way.

Fatally.

Niam pressed back against me, trembling. The Valti within me raged at her discomfort, demanding I find shelter, safety, warmth. But there was nowhere to stop, not with those things hunting us.

The path narrowed further. On our right, the mountain rose in a sheer wall of ice-slicked stone. On our left, empty air. The villart’s hooves sent pebbles skittering into the void.

A particularly fierce gust nearly knocked us off balance. The villart stumbled, front leg slipping on hidden ice. My heart stopped.

“Easy,” I murmured, steadying the beast. “Easy now.”

The mechanical whine of the drones grew louder, closer. How many had they sent after us?

“There!” Niam pointed through the snow. “I see something.”

I squinted where she indicated. Yes - a darker patch against the white. A cave entrance, if we could reach it.

The villart needed no encouragement this time, heading straight for the potential shelter. Three more careful steps, then we were under the overhang. The sudden absence of driving snow left me blinking.

I swung down first, then reached for Niam. Her slim body slid into my arms, cold seeping through her clothes. She stumbled as her feet hit the ground, and I steadied her.

My hands lingered on her waist longer than necessary. The beast approved of her closeness, urging me to pull her even nearer. It was an effort to step back.

“Let me check inside first.”

The cave extended deeper than expected, curving away into darkness. No fresh tracks marked the packed earth floor, no scent of predators. Good.

I led the villart just inside the entrance, where it could rest without blocking our escape route if needed. Then I turned my attention to Niam.

She stood near the wall, arms wrapped around herself, still shaking. Even in the dim light, I saw how the cold had bleached her lips pale.

“Come away from the stone.” I shrugged out of my cloak. “It only makes you colder.”

The mechanical whine passed overhead - once, twice, three times. We both froze, barely breathing, until the sound faded.

“They’ll keep searching,” Niam whispered. “They won’t stop until they find me.”

“Then we’ll make sure they don’t find you.” I draped my cloak around her shoulders, tucking it close. Her scent rose up, mixing with mine on the fabric. “Sit. I’ll get a fire started.”

Moving efficiently, I gathered what supplies had survived the journey. We had food - travel bread, dried meat, some fruit. The villart's saddlebags yielded flint and tinder. Most importantly, a small bundle of firewood had stayed dry.

Soon a modest flame cast dancing shadows on the cave walls. I settled next to Niam, close enough to share warmth without crowding her.

She still shivered.

“Come here.” I opened my arms. When she hesitated, I added, “Body heat. Most efficient way to warm up.”

She considered my words for a while, then scooted closer as I arranged my cloak around us both.

“Better?”

She nodded. Her short hair brushed my chin, carrying the lingering scent of Mahra’s tent - herbs and woodsmoke. But underneath was pure Niam, a scent that called to something primitive in my blood.

We sat in silence, listening to the storm rage outside. The drones passed by twice more, their whine barely audible over the wind.

“Tell me about the Valti.” Her quiet words surprised me. “Mahra said it was something extra in the blood.”

I stiffened. Of course, Mahra would have told her.

“It’s... complicated.” I chose my words carefully. “The Valti runs in some Shakai bloodlines. Makes us stronger, faster. Better hunters and warriors.”

“But?”

“My mother - Queen Kiha - she wanted the perfect prince. My half-brother Drax’s Valti nature showed early. She saw how people feared him, whispered about him. So she ordered the priestesses to create something that would suppress my Valti.”

“Did it work?”

“For years.” I laughed without humor. “I was everything she wanted - cold, controlled, reasonable. The perfect counterpoint to Drax’s wildness. Then...”

“Then?”

“Then I started dreaming of you.”