Between Gods and Lycans

5 - You!

Liv

It is so hard to listen to these people speak when I don’t understand what they’re saying. I wish I could remember how, but I don’t. I have been gone too long.

The man who speaks my language with ease has been trying to help me understand. It was nice of him, even if I can tell that he doesn’t like me much.

But I don’t care about that right now. My brother is standing before me!

I recognized him right away. He looks just as he did when I last saw him—big, strong, powerful. My brother is many years older than I am, so to me, he has always looked the same.

He says something to the man who can speak to me. I wish I knew the man’s name, but he didn’t give it to me.

“Arwen?” My brother says.

I meet his gaze, and he watches me intently.

That name. I have not heard it in many years. Mother changed my name when we left this place, and no one ever spoke it again.

But I remember that was my name. I remember my father telling me that a Lycan Princess, now Vampire Queen, had given me that name the day I was born. She was visiting the pack and helped my mother bring me into the world. She had a nephew with a strange name that my father said came from a story. The Princess was the Luna’s sister, and they joked about their older sister liking many names from the book she had read. I cannot recall that Princess’s name, but Father said that she had given her brother and son names from her favorite story. The Vampire Queen had held me and said that even though I was a tribrid, I needed an Elvish name.

Yes, I am part Elf.

Mother used to tell me that I remembered things wrong. We weren’t part Elf; we were part Witch. But I know, in my heart, that isn’t true. I never argued the fact.

What would be the point when we had to hide who we truly were from Alpha Bode’s pack?

Mother taught me never to speak of it, and to hide any magic I may have possessed. I was taught never to use magic unless she allowed it, which was next to never unless we were far from the pack and alone. She could not bide my powers, no matter how hard she tried. Mother had complained that it should have been easy for her. However, the Elf in me was strong. But I kept that side of me dormant because I didn’t want to anger her. I used it here because I could. I wasn’t afraid because I wished only to help someone.

I blink slowly and nod at my brother.

His mouth drops in shock. In less than a second, he pulls me into his big, strong arms. I cling to him, crying silently. I have longed for this moment since the last time I saw him—all those years ago. My brother is over one hundred years older than I am. It felt like I had a second father rather than a brother. But I loved him so much. He would often tell me he loved me. He never treated me any differently than his own children, who are also older than I am.

‘I wish you could hear me.’ I think to myself as my brother rubs my back. I want nothing more than for him to understand me.

‘I can hear you.’ A chuckle sounds inside my head.

My eyes widen as I look at the man who can speak to me out loud and clearly inside my head. ‘You can?’

He smirks. ‘Yes, I can. So, you’re Arwen. Long time no see, little Elf.’

I furrow my brow. I vaguely remember someone calling me that when I was a child, but I don’t remember his name.

‘Who are you?’ I ask.

‘My name is Viggo. Son of Fenrir. I’m offended that you don’t remember me.’

Viggo! That pig!

‘I should apologize for throwing you so far earlier. That wasn’t my intention.’

So, it was this monster who attacked me!

‘You!’ I hiss.

Viggo smirks.

I pull away from my brother. I march toward Viggo, raise my hand, and slap him hard across the face, turning his head to the side. Everyone in the room gasps. They all start speaking at once, but I don’t understand them. I can feel the Alpha's anger burning from the other side of the room, but my own anger flares just as strongly.

Even though that slap turned Viggo’s head, he slowly looks at me with a smirk riding his lips. He’s just as arrogant as I remember. Standing in front of him now, I remember his face. I also remember how mean he was to me!

I remember how each time he visited the pack, he’d say mean things to me. I was a little girl, and this pig was a decade older than me, yet he didn’t care. Okay, he never physically hurt me, but he would say mean things that upset me. As an adult, I can understand a little that he wouldn’t have wanted me following him around. Viggo was a teenager, but he looked like a grown man because he was the son of the Lycan Deity. I remember that now.

Mother used to say, ‘That’s what boys do, Arwen. Viggo is not a child. You must not keep following him around.’

Viggo was just being a boy. But I don’t believe anyone should be so cruel! Viggo may have been a child himself, but physically and mentally, he wasn’t.

Viggo holds his hand up to the Alpha, stopping him from moving closer. I flinch because the Alpha looks very angry with me. I remember that Viggo is the Alpha’s grandson, and someone hurting him would cause the Alpha to lose his mind.

I remember Alpha Cree. I never forgot him because he was always so nice to me. Somehow, he, more than anyone aside from my brother and father, never faded from my memory. When I woke up and saw him there, I was overwhelmed, and I hugged him. I should have realized that he didn’t recognize me, but he didn’t push me away, either.

‘So, you do remember me.’

‘Unfortunately.’ I snap. ‘I remember how mean you were to me.’

He rolls his eyes. ‘I wasn’t mean to you. I just didn’t want you following me around all the time.’

‘I did not!’ I protest. But somewhere in my mind, a memory flashes of me doing just that. He was handsome and smart, and he was always so much fun.

Was it wrong of me to think I could join in?

‘You so did.’ He mocks, grinning wider. ‘Anybody would think you had a crush on me.’

‘I was a child!’

‘And that makes a difference, how?’ He smirks.

‘You’re a vile pig!’ I hiss.

‘You should be nicer to me, Arwen.’ He tells me.

I roll my eyes. ‘Why would I do that?’

‘Because I’m the only one who can translate things for you,’ he smirks. ‘Or I could leave, and you’ll be stuck never understanding what anyone is saying.’ He shrugs.

I want to tell him to leave and never return, but I swallow my anger because right now, I need Viggo to tell me what everyone is saying. I don’t want to be left confused about what’s happening. Things are already hard. If Viggo leaves, I’ll feel completely lost in this unfamiliar place.

I sigh. ‘Is my father still alive?’ I ask.

Viggo smirks before turning away from me.

Everyone begins to talk all around me. I can feel the fear creeping up my spine. My brother would never let anything happen to me. I know that. Still, everything sounds like it’s underwater, muffled and distant.

What are they saying?

Is my father dead?

I clasp my stomach as it churns. My hands are shaking, and I close my eyes to ward off the urge to vomit.

I’m going to have to beg that monster to tell me the truth.

Won’t he just love that?

I open my eyes when my brother touches my arm. “Dad?” He asks.

My eyes widen. I remember that word and what it means.

I nod my head and clutch at his hand. I try to form the word with my mouth, but I don’t know if I’m doing it right.

Davy says something to Viggo.

Viggo looks at me. ‘You’re father’s alive.’ He says in a bored tone.

I don’t care about that. I pay him no attention. My father is alive!

I stumble, and my brother catches me. Tears fall from my eyes, and I startle when the door slams open.

A tall man rushes through the door. He is tall and well-built. His super long braid swings, and he wears furs like back home. His eyes lock with mine. His mouth drops open.

“Arwen?” He whispers.

I nod, tears blinding me as I sob silently.

My father grabs me and pulls me into his arms, crushing me against his massive body. He repeats my name over and over, between kisses to my head. There is no way he could mistake me for someone else. A Werewolf will always be able to sniff out its own child.

There is so much I want to tell my father.

There is so much I wish to know.

Viggo could translate, but my eyes are suddenly so heavy that I cannot keep them open. My body sags against my father, and the world goes black.