Page 18 of Fate Promised

She studied those. The likeness had been close but not quite right. She hadn’t captured the true breadth of him. Showed the strong, masculine lines of how big and strong he was. The way his golden eyes lit from within with intelligence. How his brows expressed his emotions with a fraction of a motion.

Triska let the sketches fall onto the top of the desk until she held only his letter.

Triska,

Today I received all one hundred and twenty of your letters. For the past ten years, they were placed in a large box gathering dust, but now that I’m leaving the clan, I guess they finally decided to give them to me. I just read your last letter. Did you really throw my ring into the sea?

I bet you’d be surprised to know I wrote to you, too, even without getting a letter from you first. All the letters I tried to send were also in the box, never mailed.

Well, I’m finally on my own, about to join the vulk pack for the first time. Yeah, I’m one of the vulk. About fell off my chair when they told me that bit of news. I hope that explains why I never returned. Why I can’t ever return. Once we take our permanent form, our old life is supposed to be dead to us, and our new life is all we know.

You’ve heard the tales about us. Merciless. Ruthless. Hunting any humans who dare tread on our lands. Not all the things you’ve heard are true. But what is true is that we have no souls and can offer nothing. We take no mates.

So, it’s best you tossed the ring. It was only a nail, anyway.

But one thing about being a vulk, is the vulk protect Ulterra. I can still make sure you’re safe, like I promised.

I don’t know how to end this letter. Saying goodbye seems too little and saying I’ll miss you … those are just words.

There was a large smudge at this part of the letter as Juri had scratched out one line. No matter how hard she’d tried, she couldn’t figure out what he’d originally written to end the letter. Instead, all that remained was simply his name.

Juri

Her first reaction when she read the letter was shock. The letter arrived ten years after he’d left. Long past the time she’d ever expected to hear from him.

She’d slumped onto the chair at the dining room table—she’d still lived with her father then—and read the line ‘Yeah, I’m one of the vulk’ over and over.

It took weeks for it to sink in.

When she was ten, she’d written to him weekly, racing for her mail every day, hoping to see a letter for her. One never came. That year, and the next, she’d been so lost. She couldn’t even remember that time clearly; it was like the pain was so intense she refused to remember it.

Her mother was dead, and her best friend was … gone.

She had almost tossed his ring into the sea because she was so angry at him. While her mother was dead and could never return, Juri was alive, and he’d abandoned her.

As time passed, she’d tried not to think about Juri. But whenever she looked at the golden tattoo on her chest, it was like he was next to her again. And he kept intruding in other places as well. When she reached eighteen, boys started courting her, and every time one held her hand or kissed her, she wondered, what would it be like to do this with Juri?

Of course, the ring—his proposal—was all kids’ stuff. No boy who proposed at ten truly meant it, but she hadn’t thrown away his ring.

No, when her finger grew too large for the ring to fit, she’d put it around her neck and never taken it off.

The letter arrived when she was twenty. After reading it, she’d scraped herself up off her chair and run outside. Run to their cove. A place she’d never visited since he’d left. She’d sat under their tree and sobbed. All the anger, all the disappointment and hurt, washed over her like it was brand new.

Juri hadn’t left her behind. He’d learned he was a vulk. And the vulk had no souls and took no mates. Her heart hurt, some for herself, but a lot more for him.

He’d loved Ryba. His nickname was the Little Mayor because he had every person in town wrapped around his finger. Even when he got into trouble and was scolded, they still loved him.

Just like she’d loved him.

As the years passed after she’d gotten his letter, she’d steeled herself to accept she’d never see Juri again. His life was a complete mystery to her and one which took him far away.

Triska sighed and smoothed the paper still in her hands. She put the letter back in the drawer and slid it closed. Finger combing her hair, she left it loose down her back, something she rarely did because with her job on the water and her hair so long, she always braided it, or it would get in her way. She’d also changed into loose breeches—her comfortable breeches for lounging at home—and a warm, wool, long-sleeved shirt.

She plucked at it, nerves skittering. Should she wear something more formal? This was Juri, her childhood friend, but also a vulk. One of the rare forest immortals. An almost mythical being. One who’d probably walked with the vae and met kings.

She’d be less nervous if one of those kings were coming to dinner. Down at the beach, standing near him, he’d been so large, so primal. Yet his gaze softened when it met hers. His scent was intoxicating, and when she’d touched him …

He’d made that purring sound, and she’d melted. Simply melted. A sizzle had started deep inside. Waking up parts of her long dead. She’d wanted to let her hands continue to explore him. To find out what else made him purr like that.