~Freye~
Family reunions are a special kind of hell.
I avoid them with a devotion that borders on the religious, mostly because they never end in anything but blood or bitterness. For my siblings, it is a chance to preen. For me, it is a reminder of everything I have lost.
But when the Mother summons, the cosmos obeys.
My mother is not a woman of flesh and bone; she is the Moon Goddess, the silver-eyed architect of the entire wolf's existence. I am Freye, her firstborn—and her most spectacular failure. I am the "Vile Guardian," a spirit stripped of his divinity and condemned to a wasteland of immortality.
They call me a vengeful wraith, but they grant me too much humanity. I am something far colder.
As I ascend the lunar dais, the air grows thick with the scent of ozone and ancient stardust.
"Freye. How lovely of you to crawl out from your hole," Killian drawls. My brother's grin is a jagged thing, sharp enough to draw blood.
