Clipped

Chapter 21.

​The morning air was crisp, the sky a pale, translucent blue that promised a day of biting cold. Rhiannon was in the small garden plot behind the kitchens, her fingers buried in the mulch as she checked on the hardy tubers Sora had mentioned. The rowan blossom from the night before was gone- withered by the frost just as she’d predicted, but the memory of it felt like a warm coal in her chest.

​"You have a knack for making things grow where they shouldn't," a voice remarked.

​Rhiannon looked up to find Sora leaning against a stone pillar, her silver hair charms catching the morning light. The weaver wasn't carrying linens or wool today; she had her arms crossed, her expression uncharacteristically intense.

​"It’s just a bit of leftover magic," Rhiannon said, wiping dirt from her palms. "The mountain is stubborn, but it’s not unkind."

​Sora didn't return the smile. She walked into the garden, her boots silent on the frozen earth, and stopped directly in front of Rhiannon. "I’m not talking about the flowers, Rhiannon. I’m talking about yesterday. In the courtyard."

​Rhiannon felt a flicker of the old apprehension. "The messenger? Fenris was... he was upset."

​"Upset?" Sora huffed, a sharp, dry sound. "Rhiannon, that wasn't 'upset.' That was a blood-rage. When an Alpha of Fenris’s age and power reaches that state, the world around them becomes a blur of targets. I’ve seen Kael- his own Beta, his closest friend for decades, get thrown across a room just for trying to stand in his line of sight during a rage."

​Sora leaned in, her amber eyes searching Rhiannon’s face with a piercing curiosity. "And yet, you walked right into the center of that storm. You touched him. Not only did he not tear your arm off, he stilled. He came back to himself because of a girl who barely weighs as much as one of his winter pelts."

​Rhiannon looked down at her hands. The static in her head hummed at a low, steady frequency. "I just... I didn't want him to give Gorgon what he wanted. I saw him slipping away, and I reached out. My magic, it felt like it was looking for him."

​"It didn't just look for him," Sora whispered, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "It found a frequency. In wolf culture, there are very few people who can reach an Alpha in that state. A parent, perhaps. A Beta, sometimes. But most often... a Mate."

​The word hit the air like a heavy stone dropped into a deep well. Rhiannon’s breath hitched. "No. That’s... he bought me, Sora. He’s an ancient guardian, and I am a clipped fairy from a brothel. There’s no logic in that."

​"Logic has nothing to do with gravity," Sora countered, echoing her words from the weaving room. "I watched his wolf look at you. He didn't see a 'curiosity' or an 'investment.' He saw his anchor. Your magic didn't just cool his skin; it spoke to his wolf in a language we don't have words for. It’s why you can feel him through the walls. It’s why the trees go quiet when he’s near you."

​Rhiannon stood up, the cold wind whipping her blue hair across her face. The "pull" she had felt in the woods, the way her magic had surged toward his skin, the way she had felt his heartbeat as if it were her own- it all began to take on a terrifyingly different shape.

​"Is that why the messenger made him so angry?" Rhiannon asked, her voice trembling. "Because he thinks I’m his?"

​"He doesn't think anything," Sora said, stepping back to give Rhiannon space to breathe. "A wolf knows. But Fenris is old, and he is proud. He has spent a century being the shield for everyone else. He likely doesn't know how to handle the fact that his own soul has decided to tether itself to someone as fragile- and as strong. as you."

​Sora reached out and squeezed Rhiannon’s shoulder, a firm, grounding gesture. "Just think on it. Your magic is returning, little fairy. Ask yourself why it chose him to wake up for."

​As Sora walked away, the silver charms tinkling a rhythmic goodbye, Rhiannon remained in the garden. She looked at her palm- the one that had touched his arm, and felt the faint, persistent thrumming of a bond she was no longer sure was just magical.

​If it wasn't just a fairy’s gratitude... if it was the "gravity" Sora spoke of... then she wasn't just safe. She was claimed. And for a woman who had spent ten years being owned, the idea of being claimed by a soul was a mystery she wasn't sure she was ready to solve.