Page 29 of Curses and Casualties
Ragnar has entered, standing at the head of the main table, his mere presence commanding our attention. All chatter grinds to a halt, and his amber eyes scan the room slowly, eventually settling on our group.
“Welcome all.” Ragnar’s booming voice echoes. “Tonight, we feast in honor of our guests, a small pack that hails from Whisper Valley, led by a pair with an incomplete Soul Bond.” His gaze lingers on Georgia and me as all eyes turn our way. “A Soul Bond is a rare and sacred thing, lost to us for far too long. The power it produces is both immeasurable and unparalleled. It has the ability to restore balance to our world, to create an environment in which our kind can live in harmony and thrive.” He pauses for effect. “But it also has the ability to destroy if wielded by the unworthy or the malicious.”
A murmur ripples through the hall, and Ragnar raises his hand for silence. “Tonight, we will hear their tale. We will break bread together, share our mead, and by the ancient laws of hospitality, they’ll be under our protection.”
His eyes seem to glow in the firelight. “Tomorrow, the path forward will reveal itself. But tonight…” He lifts his mug high. “We celebrate. To our guests—may the gods guide your steps, and may your bond prove worthy of the power it holds!”
The hall erupts into cheers, and the tension quickly lifts as the feast resumes with renewed vigor.
As the night unfolds, the Úlfhéðnar do not disappoint in their revelry. Food and drink flow freely and music fills the air, a blend of traditional melodies played on instruments I’ve never seen before. There are rhythmic beats that make it impossible not to tap your feet, and soon enough, Georgia pulls me into the throng of dancers.
Despite everything, we find ourselves laughing, her head thrown back as she matches step after lively step with the fierce yet joyful Úlfhéðnar. Their movements are wild and unrestrained, and it feels good to just lose ourselves in the moment and dance like there’s no tomorrow.
By the time we return to the table for something more to drink, Ragnar has joined us, his expression relaxed and a hearty laugh booming from his chest as he shares a joke with Amara and Darius.
“It’s good to see young wolves enjoying themselves,” he says with an approving nod as we settle back in our seats. “Amara has filled me in on your journey so far. It seems fate has been... eventful for you.”
“That’s one way to put it,” I say. “We appreciate your hospitality, Ragnar. And your willingness to hear us out. We came here asking for help we aren’t owed.”
Ragnar nods approvingly. “Guest-right is sacred to us, young Alpha. Once given, it cannot be revoked. Whatever comes tomorrow, know that the Úlfhéðnar do not abandon those who have eaten at our table.” His expression grows more serious. “But tell me, do you understand the weight of what you carry? This power you and your mate share is ancient magic, predating even the Úlfhéðnar. Throughout our history, it has been both revered and feared.”
“What happens when it’s misused?” Georgia asks quietly, then adds quickly, “I mean, if you’re comfortable talking about it with us. I don’t want to pry.”
Ragnar raises his hand, silencing her concerns. “There is no shame in seeking knowledge, young one. It is how we learn, how we grow.” He takes a sip from his mug before releasing a heavy sigh. “But what you ask is the reason our kind has spent centuries in decline.”
“What happened?” she whispers, her eyes locked on his while our bond spikes with nervous curiosity.
I realize we’ve attracted the attention of the entire feasting hall. Every ear is turned in readiness for Ragnar’s next words. Even the musicians have stopped playing.
The ancient Úlfhéðnar’s eyes grow distant, as if seeing the events of the past playing out before him. “The last time a soul-bonded pair came into their full power, they were not ready for the responsibility it entailed. They believed their power made them gods among men. In their hubris, they decided to reveal themselves to the human world, thinking mortals would worship them and seek their aid. They performed incredible feats in town squares, lifted things no man could carry, cured diseases with a clawed-touch, and commanded the elements so crops came in before their eyes.”
He pauses, his voice lowering. “But humans fear what they don’t understand. Instead of awe, their displays were met withterror. The humans gathered in numbers, their fear turning to violence. In retaliation, the soul-bonded pair unleashed their full power. Entire villages were razed to the ground, their inhabitants slaughtered. The pair’s rampage lasted for days, leaving a trail of destruction across the land.”
Ragnar’s expression darkens further. “The survivors didn’t cower, as the pair expected. Instead, they spread word of the ‘demons’ walking among them. Armies were raised, witch hunts began. Any being suspected of supernatural powers were persecuted. Our kind found themselves vastly outnumbered. While we are more powerful individually, humans breed and spread far quicker than we ever could. For every one of us they killed, a hundred more humans would join their ranks until we just couldn’t fight anymore.”
He shakes his head solemnly. “Supernatural beings were forced into centuries’ worth of hiding. Many of our kind were lost during those dark times. Entire species wiped out. Those who survived learned to blend in, to suppress their true nature. The world of magic retreated into shadow, and the balance we once enjoyed was shattered.”
I feel a chill run down my spine. “How horrible,” Georgia whispers, shaking her head in disbelief. “I couldn’t imagine ever wanting to use my power to harm others. As it is, all I want is to exist. To feel safe.”
Ragnar nods as he looks between Georgia and me. “But you see why the Council fears the return of the Soul Bond. They remember the devastation it once caused. But in their fear, they fail to see that suppressing this power might be just as dangerous as misusing it.”
“How do we prove that we don’t want power for its own sake?” I ask. “That all we want is to help restore balance? Our lives have been at risk from the moment our bond started growing. We don’t want to be in battle forever.”
Ragnar’s expression softens slightly. “The fact that you ask this question is a good start, young Alpha. True leaders, like those worthy of the Soul Bond, don’t seek power for its own sake. They understand the weight of responsibility that comes with it.”
He leans back, his amber eyes sweeping over our small group. “Tomorrow will bring what it brings. The gods have a way of testing us in ways we don’t expect. Sometimes through trials of our own making, sometimes through the actions of others.” His gaze sharpens. “But know this—how you face whatever comes will speak volumes about your worthiness.”
Georgia nods, her grip on my hand tightening. “We understand, Ragnar. Whatever tomorrow brings, we’ll face it.”
A hint of approval flashes in the leader’s eyes as he raises his mug. “May your bond prove true, and your hearts remain pure,” he says before downing the rest of his drink and standing from the table.
“I’ve grown weary, my friends,” he announces, his voice still deep but carrying a hint of fatigue. “The night is young, but I believe I’ve said my piece. The rest of the evening is yours to enjoy. Make merry, share stories, and strengthen the bonds of fellowship. Tomorrow...” He introduces us to his second in command, Gunnar, telling us he’ll provide us with anything we need in his absence. But before he goes, he pauses, that same distant look crossing his features. “Tomorrow will take care of itself.”
With a nod toward the musicians, he gestures for them to resume their playing then leaves.
As the music swells again, Gunnar walks with Ragnar to the door, and Georgia leans into me. “Is it just me, or does everyone keep hinting that something’s going to happen tomorrow?”
“It’s not just you,” I confirm, watching the Úlfhéðnar return to their revelry. “But whatever it is, we’ve got each other, right?And now we have their protection, their guest-right. That has to count for something.”
