Skilningur

Alistair's POV

It had been a couple of days since Noir and Haaken had their power fight. Since then, Noir has avoided everyone, including me. It was nothing short of maddening and saddening.

"How many were killed during the skirmish," I ask, rubbing my temples with the newfound headache forming.

"43 ser," Nebo spoke as the captains of the war table shifted with unease.

"Did anyone manage to capture the skelmar leader while we were also dealing with Calder and his pack?"

"I did, ser," came a voice and I recognized it to be Birger's.

"He is being held in a cell beneath the gallows."

Nodding, I sighed and leaned back in my chair.

This is taking too long. I need to check on Noir. Is she getting into trouble? Where is she right now?

The sheer thought of her getting into trouble especially on the South Side of the village erked me but before I could let my thoughts consume me, another voice spoke up, throwing me back the present.

"What of this new alliance with the Crest Valley Pack? We have never heard of them and the decision was made while still on the battlefield as your mate was hauled away during the brink of death. How do we know what is said to be true? What if they're in line with Calder," Gaelen asked, the tips of his pointed ears twitching.

With these questions, the entire room irrupted in concern with the exception of my three in command, Herlief and Evenora.

How infuriating.

Standing, I slammed my hands down on the table, silencing the entire room.

"Enough. Where I seek out everyone's opinion for this pack, the ultimate decision is mine. I didn't accept the alliance with blind admiration. I accepted it for a multitude of reasons. Reasons I didn't feel, at the time, needed to be explained. Haaken's pack eradicated the remaining skelmar and Calder's warriors. If he was with either, he wouldn't of ended potential allies let alone help us with the rebuilding of this pack. On top of this, his pack is STRICTLY lycans, something our half breeds and purebreds can benefit from; not to mention, he has a common goal with us: The Ending of Calder," I growled, looking to each member.

"If they're a pack of purebreds, how come he claims to be the faðir of Noir, a halfbreed," a voice questioned.

"Seems hypocritical to me," another voice spoke.

"It seems odd that he would offer an alliance now when his " pup" was pretty much announced dead," came another voice.

I felt myself partially shift, both Rune and Hael taking over and speaking in unison.

"I will tolerate you voicing your concern but I— no, WE, will not tolerate anyone speaking negatively about Noir, YOUR FREYA. YOUR LUNA. You do not judge someone based on their birth. If that was the case, why have I allowed this pack to be so heterogeneous when I could easily cast out anyone who isn't a halfbreed between lycan and werewolf or purebreds of either breed? Noir has done NOTHING for you to speak so carelessly of her," I all but shout at my council, my own resolve crumbling.

"Bróðir," a voice came and a hand squeezed my shoulder.

"Calm yourself. They mean no harm. They are just scared. Why don't you take a moment. I'll continue to address the Captains," Gavrill said calmly.

I can feel myself almost losing control before I turned, slinging my chair into the neighboring wall and left the war room.

"Where is Noir? We need Noir," Rune snarled.

"Find Noir," Hael said with equal measure.

Growling, I took off, nearly ripping the door from its hinges.

Noir. Noir. NOIR.

I was almost blinded by my rage, lust and concern when I skidded to a halt.

The scene in front of me was beautiful.

Noir's short frame and curved body was of perfection. Her green eyes, like the rich valleys, were calm and full of emotion. Her long, wavy autumn hair I knew was smooth and silky, almost as if it was tailored from enriched fabric.

She had a kind of understated beauty, perhaps it was because she was so disarmingly unaware of her prettiness. Her light, freckled skin was, to me, completely flawless.

She was all about making things easy, helping those around her to relax and be happy with what they have. Perhaps that is why her skin glowed so, it was her inner beauty that lit her eyes and softened her features.

When she smiled and laughed you couldn't help but smile too, even if it was just on the inside. To be in her company was to feel that you too were someone, that you had been warmed by the summer rays regardless of the season.

I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move, I couldn't do anything but stare at her. My heart beat against my chest with such a thunderous deluge that I didn't know what to do and when she turned to look at me, an emotion that I've been trying to hold back hit me like a bag of stone.

Meeting her was a fate, being her friend; a choice and falling in love, that bound to happen. Noir is the one who paints my world. She is the one who keeps me shielded, defends me from the brutality. She is the one I will die a thousand times for.

I choose Noir and not because of the mate bond but I am willing to repeat the action over and over. A million times over. My icy heart melted by her pyre and embraced her's with the flutter of the wild feelings that I felt.

Could anyone ever feel or understand what we've been through?

"No, most certainly not," both Hael and Rune said in unison.

Thy pain is mine. I feel her pain raging in my soul and turning my veins to ash.

Not puppy love.

It's a match made by the Gods. I feel incomplete without her. Every time I look at Noir, I feel love and inspiration coursing through me. How destiny writes fates, I see.

She is my treasure.

She taught me to dream fearlessly and love limitlessly, though she didn't know what love was.

I cherish her.

Want to spend a lifetime with her. I worship her. I need her by my side.

When she stood and further looked towards me, my feet moved on their own and before I knew it, I crashed into her with such force, we fell and before she could get a word, my lips met hers.

As I kissed her, the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. My hand rested below her ear as my thumb caressed her cheek as our breaths mingled. Noir ran her fingers down my spine, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us and I could feel the beating of her heart against my chest.

"Ég elska þig. Farðu aldrei frá mér, mo grá."

Ég elska þig. Farðu aldrei frá mér, mo grá - I love you. Never leave me, my love.

Skilningur - Acceptance