Rise of the Underdogs: VALIK

XVIII

After my shower, I’d cleaned my room while she watched from the bed. Her eyes followed my every movement like she was trying to decode some relic of the past or the secrets of the universe. The way she sat, legs tucked under her, fingers curled around the edge of the blanket, made her look both curious and cautious.

I swear I’m not that complicated. I grew up living simply, and that’s how I wanted to remain.

“So, join me for a walk?” I asked, pulling on my coat. The zipper caught for a second before sliding up, the fabric brushing against my neck as I reached out.

Holding out my hand to her, I smiled as I waited. When she took the offering, Ehno howled with ecstasy. ‘Aspen is happy.’

Aspen, Heaven’s wolf, had started talking to Ehno shortly after I arrived home. She was apparently contagiously happy to know her Mate was a protector and elite warrior. Ehno was being smug about it.

Watching her watch the water, the waves crashing against the cliffs, I smiled softly. Her eyes were closed, hair windswept, and skin glistening with water droplets – perfect in every way. The breeze lifted strands of her hair, tossing them across her cheeks like the ocean was trying to touch her too.

“Ehno says your wolf, Aspen, is happy about being Mates. Listen, I know I’m two years older, but I really want this to work, Heaven,” I said over the noise of nature. The wind roared against the rocks, mixing with the rhythmic crash of waves below.

“I shifted last week,” she said. “I met my wolf, learned her name, and found out that everyone in our pack – well, not everyone, only the ones closest to Logan – get to talk with our wolves because we proved where our loyalties lie. We proved our ability to follow Artemis’s laws to the letter.”

Nodding, mostly to myself, I sighed. “It’s good to be home. I’d like to take you out a few times, dinner. Movies. All up to you, but I want this to work. Andrast never gave me a chance, not even a moment to talk or ask her for a moment of time.”

“It must have hurt,” she murmured, finally sitting next to me. Her shoulder brushed mine, and for a second, everything felt still — like the ocean had paused just for us. The wind shifted, carrying the scent of salt and something earthy, maybe moss from the rocks below. A gull cried overhead, its wings slicing through the gray sky as it circled once before disappearing into the mist.

“Like a b***h, no offence,” I said, hoping she caught the joke.

She did, and I grinned as she said, “None taken. I mean, you’ve met the male version of a nag, so… yeah.”

“Hell, does Paul ever remove the stick in his ass? He could do with getting laid,” I commented.

Her laughter filled the space between us, sweet and grounding. It echoed off the cliffs, mixing with the crash of waves and the distant call of gulls overhead. Her head tilted back slightly as she laughed, eyes squinting against the wind, cheeks flushed from the cold. On a whim, I removed the cashmere jacket only to drop it around her shoulders. The fabric settled over her like it belonged there, soft and warm against the chill.

“This was a gift from my friends Samara and Peiter when I left Russia. They’re Vampires I was assigned to bunk with and they were also my teammates.”

“Is this… holy crap, this is real cashmere!” Heaven hissed, her eyes widening as she cuddled deeper into the jacket. “M-m, so soft.”

My own laughter bubbled out of me as I shook my head. “Is it warm?”

“Mine,” she giggled, then stopped. Her eyes met mine, and I saw the flicker of emotions reflected within. “Yeah, it’s really warm.”

“That’s good,” I said. “Wouldn’t want you getting a chill. Even though you’re a Werewolf, your body is still regulating so getting sick would not be far-fetched.”

The pain, the degradation, the hope — it all swirled together like a perfect storm in her blue-brown eyes. The light caught in them just right, like the sea itself had decided to live there. Her lips parted slightly, but she didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. A strand of her hair stuck to her cheek, damp from the spray, and I reached out without thinking, brushing it back gently.

The blush that covered her cheeks was adorable. Her skin warmed with color, soft and pink against the cool breeze. Without thinking, I said: “You’re prettier than she was, you know.”

“What?” Heaven’s eyes went wide. Her voice cracked slightly, like she wasn’t sure she’d heard me right. “You… you think I’m pretty?”

“Not at all,” I told her, leaning back on the boulder. The stone was cold against my spine, but I didn’t care. Seeing her face fall, I let out a chuckle. “I think you’re beautiful.”

Her hand slapped against my chest, sending a complex array of emotions rushing through me. The contact wasn’t hard, but it was firm — grounding, like she was trying to wake something up inside me. Working through each one, I identified what they were: fear, humility, hope.

Fear of becoming the man who sired me, even though I would never think to raise my hand to a woman, let alone my own Mate. That fear sat deep, coiled like a shadow I refused to let grow.

Humility of knowing my brother put everything, including his Alpha title, on the line to give me a better life. Of knowing my life was in my hands and that I, alone, held the key. That truth settled heavy in my chest, but it didn’t crush me — it steadied me.

Then the hope of renewal. Rebirth into someone trustworthy, thoughtful, and in control of my mental and emotional state for the first time in my eighteen years of life. It wasn’t loud or dramatic. It was quiet, like the first breath after surfacing from deep water.

“Valik?” Heaven’s voice cut through the murky waters of emotional complexity like a hot knife through a stick of frozen butter.

I blinked, “Yeah?”

“Are you okay? You looked like you were lost,” she asked, her hand taking mine in a gentle, soothing movement. “This is okay, right? I mean…”

My grip on her hand tightened just a little. I shook my head. “It’s not an invitation for more if that’s what you’re worried about, Heaven. I’m not going to take hand-holding and turn it into permission to take you to bed or anything.”

She giggled, “Lo-lo would murder you.”

“Oh, don’t I know it,” I muttered. “I wasn’t lost, per se. I was processing my emotions in the moment. It’s one of the many things I learned while training in the Vampire army. I was in Camp Katya. It was the nominal place where people like me – those with anger issues and problems getting control over their agency – were trained to rise from their past.”

Blinking at me, she made a noise of appreciation. “It sounds like exactly what you needed. You know, I remember back when I was eleven, and I jumped on your back. Momma had me within the same year as Wynter, so we’re what most people call Irish twins,” she said with a shrug. “It’s just a nickname for siblings born less than a year apart. Used to be kind of a jab at Irish families back in the day, but now it’s mostly just a way to say we’re close in age. Alpha Henry loves to torment us over it, but only because he’s literally an Irish descendant.”

I knew about that. My adoptive father’s grandfather and father were pure-blooded Irishmen, while Henry was half native Canadian and half Irish. “I always thought that was some kind of insult.”

“Not to Wynter. She sees it as an invitation to behave like an uncivilized animal,” Heaven commented dryly.