Unfamiliar Territory - Chapter 22 (Early Access) (Patreon)

The sun was bright, the children cheerful, and the day halfway over when Tove realised she had misplaced her mate. It would not be difficult to find her little witch; she was getting quite good at tugging back on the bond, using it as a rope. It was obvious Chloe couldn’t feel it like Tove could, and she probably thought a werewolf would sniff her out. The bond was simpler, and Tove didn’t believe in overcomplicating anything.

After following the invisible tie between them for a hundred steps or so, Tove could take a confident guess at where Chloe was.

There were only five places she rotated between:

- Their den cave

- Their up-top cottage (that’s right, Kajsa, two homes)

- Aunt Maja’s workshop

- Suren’s archive

- Tove’s parents’ cave (partly their insistence, intending to fatten them both up before they left for their big journey)

But the path Tove was being pulled down led, well, just that - down. The sole location on the list that required further downward travel from the den’s crystal cavern was Suren’s archive: deep in the den, with harsh rock walls that she kept immaculately dry to preserve the stories.

Suren’s lectures were primarily attended by the very young, learning of their history for the first time, and the very old, reliving their parts in it. And then there was Chloe. According to Suren the most attentive listener she’s ever had. It was not the first compliment she had received for her mate, and it wouldn’t be the last, her mate was wonderful in lots of ways. But also modest and shy and so it was Tove’s job to bask in the pride of being connected to her.

Even Alpha liked her, and he was a blank slate for anyone that wasn’t an elder. No one got special treatment unless they had the experience to advise him - like Aunt Maja. Back in the day, she was something of a warrior… at least, according to Suren. It wasn’t to her taste, but she was big and strong and the pack needed defenders against the fae that tried to reclaim their city from the pack. It was only a rogue group, so they didn’t fair very well. Tove hopped down the slope, letting her feet slide a little on the softer sections of mud. Other species often underestimated werewolves. Suren said that was to their strength.

She could hear Suren’s voice now, it had reached the droning tone that told Tove she had been talking continuously for some time. The older woman always started out very animated, but eventually even she could get drained of repeating names and numbers and deeds.

“-which is why, at that time, Alpha Ebba and Beta Sten prioritised the fulfilment of this contract with the lizardfolk in order to solidify an alliance that would later see them through the conflicts at the Alvarian peninsula and lake Helge.” Tove watched from the entryway as Suren turned to Chloe in particular to add, “We are strong swimmers - when compared with all but the lizardfolk - so a natural water advantage was already present, while the alliance ensured a swifter end to these battles.” Chloe was nodding, utterly engrossed in Suren’s words. It invigorated their archive keeper afresh, but before she could dive into the inner-conflict that arose from Alpha Ebba’s overly generous gratitudes towards the lizardfolk (Tove had heard this one before), she spotted Tove awaiting her mate’s attention at the back of the hall. “Oh, Tove! How nice of you to join us.”

Tove tried not to let her dismay show, smiling through the horror of being trapped in a room of old books and artefacts and discovering the preferred diet of men long-dead against her will. A genuine smile was shining upon her from Chloe, her eyes bright behind her glasses.

“Actually, Suren,” Tove began, trotting into the room towards her mate. “I have come to gather my mate for a meal - already prepared.” Well, the ingredients had been prepared.

“In that case, would you like to join us, Suren?” Chloe asked, ever-so polite. This was another compliment Tove enjoyed often: her mate had impeccable manners.

“Oh.” Suren dithered around her lectern. “No, I have so much to do…”

“Why don’t you bring a plate to Suren later? She has much to do.” Tove winked down at Chloe, perched on a small wooden stool like a puppy attending class. “And then you can hear more stories over my wonderful stew.”

They were in agreement, and Tove was able to drag her mate from the cave and out into the open den space. The stew ingredients were laid out in their cottage, and they traipsed the long tunnels up-top getting hungrier and hungrier.

As they walked, Tove teased, as was her way. “I lost you, little mate.” The way Chloe continued to flush no mater how many times Tove called her by the endearment warmed something in Tove’s lower stomach. The pink suited her, brought colour to her pale features. To many in the pack, Chloe appeared sickly, some even worried after her, but Tove had gathered that her family were not accustomed to a lot of sunlight - they took their magic from the night sky. Some fatty foods and sunshine would keep her well while she was at Tove’s side - that was her family’s secret formula to good health. Tove had gotten a little extra help from her witch, but for everything else she would swear it was the key to a strong body and mind.

“You can clearly sniff me out just fine,” Chloe mumbled back.

“I don’t like to get too far from you.” It wasn’t possible to.

“Well, I’m sorry for sneaking off… but so few people sit in for Suren’s midday lecture.”

“Yes, we are of the belief to get boring things out of the way in the morning, or when we are already half-asleep in the evening.”

“Tove!” Chloe gasped.

“I am only teasing you.” Tove pulled her in close with one arm and Chloe stumbled into her side, clumsy and cute. “I think it is sweet that you want to learn.”

Chloe hummed, her face pressed into the side of Tove’s breast. “It feels like we have so little time before we leave…”

Ah, her mate was feeling pressured to catch up on all things werewolf before they departed for the world of magic folk. “We can come back, little mate.”

“It’s only a year but it seems so long we’ll be away.”

“What’s a year to the rest?” A year had been a lot to Tove just a few weeks prior, every day she got to wake up and see the sun was a blessing. Now she was plump with time, almost greedy to use every moment she had been given.

Chloe pouted at the muddy ground. “I will miss everyone…”

They reached the top hatch and Tove cracked it open, offering Chloe a knee to climb out with. Dainty and cautious, her mate pulled herself out into the sunshine. The rush of clean, full air that came in with every entrance and exit of the den felt like the first breath when coming out from a deep dive. It didn’t make any sense to Tove to burrow underground, she much preferred the human and magicfolk’s huts, or maybe even the faerie mountain-top caverns - the air up there would be magnificent.

“You miss your family, too,” Tove reminded her. Chloe had not admitted this, but occasionally, deep into the night, blurry flashes invaded Tove’s sleep - images of people and feelings of longing and garbled words that made no sense. Snippets of Chloe’s dreams had forced their way into Tove’s head for some time, she assumed this was what the additional charms were, and maybe they should be honing them… Chloe might not enjoy having her privacy bared on command, though. For now, Tove would remain quiet about the visions and wait for Chloe to ask to work on their familiar bond, she was the magic expert, after all.

Chloe sighed. “I do.”

They reached their hut and Tove held the door open for her mate. “Tell me more about them, I would also like to be prepared.”

As one cooked, the other talked: of generations of light hair and stars aglow. Those Tove would meet were Aretta, Chloe’s mother, Michail, her father, and Nikos, her young brother. The boys would know her as two separate people, they had decided. It was not that Chloe did not trust them, but she wanted her mother’s advice first and foremost. Until then, they were to protect themselves as best as possible.

They were interrupted many times as they ate, but always by friendly faces. With their imminent departure, Tove’s family felt the need to see her face every day before she left. And Chloe’s, although sometimes they pestered her mate too much - especially her uncles. They asked things that a young one couldn’t possibly know - Tove couldn’t answer the same questions for her own kind! But her mate always thought hard for how to answer, and found something to offer.

Dinner would be spent in Tove’s parents’ cave, no doubt with more visitors. They were so happy for her, it was the brightest Tove had seen their faces in her whole existence. She hadn’t realised before what a weight they were carrying constantly, how it dragged down the skin beneath their eyes or deepened the lines between their brows and around their mouths. Once smile lines, but trained into frowns and endless worry over Tove’s lifetime. It was as though she wasn’t the only one who had been offered new life - her parents were reborn and all the more radiant for it.

Slamming her hands against the door of their cave, a little before sunrise, was their warning of the big news Tove had to share that night of the storm. Petrified, they answered immediately - always alert for Tove’s health. Tove’s beam baffled them. She was wet-haired, draped in one long piece of material tied into a dress, fresh from her mate’s bed. Both parents squeezed between the frame to appraise her, searching for a sign of sudden decline.

“That spell,” she announced. “The one the magic folk told you they could not use for me.”

Bleary blinks answered her. Her father nodded for her to continue, steadying himself and his mate.

“It is not only for magic folk!”

“Tove,” her mother murmured. Soft, attempting to let her hopes down in a gentle descent.

“The spell is the bound magic that Chloe used to save me from the hunter’s bolt, it is for only the magic folk and those bound to them.” She was stumbling over her words in her excitement, needing them to understand, to feel what she did. “It heals everything. So I have been healed since the night I met her. Healed in every way!”

Her father’s mouth wobbled in its grimace. “Are you s-”

“Yes. I am going to live!”

Eyes blinked, slow processing taking place, a shift in their posture. Her parents turned to each other, and a moment’s gaze was enough to bring the tears. Tove hugged them both, fighting tears of her own, bouncing them up and down as though dancing in one place.

Tove smiled across at Chloe as she dried the dishes Tove was passing her from the wash bucket. Her little mate had gifted her something she could never repay - the opportunity to tell her parents their only child would remain with them.

“I found these gooseberries growing out of one of the huts by the mill.” Chloe produced a basket protected with a square cloth across the top. She peeled it back to reveal a pile of green. “Shall we make jam from them?”

Tove dried her hands and watched her mate for a moment or two. “I would love to, my little mate.” There was no way she would rather spend her newly awarded lifetime.

Chloe flushed, Tove grinned, and they set to work to make a sweet treat to share with the pack - perhaps the perfect present to leave them with.