Will I soon be able to cling to your warm side, my wolf? ..

In the evening, people, tired and exhausted from the hard road, make a fire. And even those of my guard who, like kites, followed every careless step, become less vigilant, although they are in no hurry to leave me out of sight.

Sattar picks up a plank - I have never seen anything like it: all smooth, as if cast, made of dark wood, with bright patterns, sparkling in the light. It is rubbed to a shine, without sharp corners, without nicks that could leave splinters, raw in the skin. And in the middle, tight threads shine on it, five in all, and each is thinner than a hair from my head.

“Play for us, Sattar!” the boy Beli asks the hunter. His words are picked up by a general harmonious rumble.

When I hear music, I look around in disbelief. A melody caresses my ears, not like the singing of birds, nor the wolf's longing howl. I can't understand how this plank of dead wood is able to make sounds that merge into such a beautiful song. Sattar tremblingly holds a piece of wood in his hands, and under his fingers a creation is born that I have never known before.

Truly wonderful!

The melody is cut off. I myself seem to wake up from an obsession and notice that in the camp, except for me, the musician and Ilyas, everyone is sleeping. And the air is no longer full of enchanting sounds, but is torn apart by the friendly, well-coordinated male snoring.

“We need to hurry up while the north has departed,” Ilyas says quietly. Then it becomes clear to me that Tarrum is not among the sleepers. Whatever the magic of Sat would not be, but it would not be able to act on a strong and self-confident master.

“Leah… I couldn’t tell you this before, but I’m sorry that everything turned out this way,” the hunter tells me. Although I'm not angry with him, it's quite pleasant to hear the confession.

But it's worth the haste to escape. While there is no nort, until he had time to douse me with the cold of his eyes. It doesn't take much to get back to your family, to see Kitan, to turn life around.

“You can still change your mind,” Ilyas says uncertainly, picking up Tosh’s ax. He does not want to hurt me, although he is not soft and has seen everyone. But I am adamant. I can't afford to leave, led by my enemies south.

“No,” I say, also quietly, placing my hand confidently.

“You have a beautiful voice, she-wolf,” the man says for some reason, lifting his axe.

My hand is on the log, and all my fingers are clenched into a fist. Only one, the one with North's unwanted gift - a ring, lies upright on the tree, ready to take a heavy blow. I'm not afraid of pain. In Icebang, I learned not to be afraid of her.

The blade of the ax cuts through the air with a whoosh, a chilling sound like the wind howling through the Eisbane woods. It lasts for a moment, but it seems like an eternity. I see how Sattar turned away, looking at the sky, hidden by a veil of clouds. I watch as a piece of metal, silvery in the moonlight, dances down, ready to easily cut my finger.

Just a moment, but so long.

Tarrum appears, as silent as a predator approaching its prey. Downwind like a beast hiding its spirit. But even if so, during the time spent in the human camp, I realized that people, strangers who came from the Kobrin lands, learned to hide their smell.

Passing where my brother seldom goes, they hoped that we animals, who know every twig that lies on our land, would not ever detect their presence.

They were wrong. Even if we did not feel their vile human spirit, we wolves would still find traces of strangers. Only Tarrum did not know this. He firmly believed that his witchcraft could curb the wolf's sensitive scent. Larre thought it would be enough for people to leave hidden from my pack.

And yet I came across them by accident. It so happened, and the North suddenly became convinced for some reason that I could be useful to His Majesty, who knows no refusal.

And even now he is against the fact that I can tell him no.

A muffled sound is heard. This ax in the firm hands of Ilyas suddenly became naughty under the gaze of the dark eyes of the Nort. Instead of cutting off my finger, the blade pierces the tree on which it lies. Before the sorcery of one person, the warm, almost hot magic of Ilyas and Sat is powerless, unable to fight back even that calm, cold magic that is dormant in my blood.

And the power of the North almost crushes. I see how Ilyas turns pale, watching how the ax suddenly became obstinate in his hands. Then both of them, Ilyas and Sattar, look at the sorcerer. And so, point-blank, they can not look at all. Their skin becomes as white as Eisbane snow, almost drained of blood. Feeling weak, the people who caught me for the first time, exhausted, settle to the ground.

And even strange somehow - I feel sorry for them. Never felt sorry. Contemptible feeling.

I would have attacked another, without hesitation I would have rushed, biting, forward. But I can't defeat this enemy. His strength is such that even I, daanu, cannot but recognize it.

You are a terrible person, Larre. And I lost this battle with you before I even started.

“I expected you to show fangs,” admits Tarrum, “But that my people might disobey helping you… Unthinkable!

Are you surprised, Larre? You do not see that those who are faithful to you understand that there is no place for a she-wolf in Kobrin. Putting a woman's dress on me won't make me a man.

He comes so close to me that I can feel the cold from his skin. Snowflakes settled on his eyelashes, and he himself looks like an ice sculpture. I want to take a step back, but I struggle with this feeling.

The man looks me straight in the eyes. It's a challenge. But I can’t meet him, I tell myself “not now”, lowering my face. He stands bristling. So angry that it seems like an animal roar.

And I hear a roar. But not him, Larre. This growl is dearer to me now than the music of Sattar and cannot but caress the ear. Happiness flows through the veins like a warm wave. “I am here,” says the beast, “I will help you.”

Behind the stranger is a silver-gray wolf. Don of my pack. Kitan.

Larre's dark eyes suddenly sparkle in the darkness. He takes hold of the canary hanging from his belt. I snatch the ax shaft from Ilyas's weakened hands. Tarrum throws Sattara:

- Wake up. Alive!

At the same moment, the wolf attacks. Sandwiched between me and my mate, the north is forced to turn its back on me. I raise my ax to strike, but someone from behind leans on me and knocks me to the ground. I feel that Ilyas. And now he presses me to the ground, and under the weight of the man's body it is not easy for me to wriggle out. Snow is everywhere: behind the scruff of the neck and even in the mouth. I squirm like a snake, trying to get rid of the heavy burden, but the Ivinian does not want to give up on me. Ilyas will never dare to go directly against his master.

But he is weak. Thanks for this Larry, tried. I manage to hit the enemy, and then throw him off me.

Kitan fights Tarrum. Nort's blade gleams, almost touching my wolf's neck. But Keith is faster. He then retreats, then attacks again, exhausting the opponent and looking for his weak points. Too bad it's just not easy. After being held captive by Larre, I began to doubt that he had them.

But still, the north shoulder is bleeding - the left one, and his canary lies in the right one. My don also has a wound, gaping on his side. They circle against each other - a ferocious wolf and an experienced warrior. Everyone is not ready to give in.

When the camp wakes up from intoxicating, sent dreams, the rest of the wolves appear. Without hesitation, they immediately attack and meet a worthy rebuff. Men, sleepy, grab their weapons, and wolves rush at them, aiming at thin necks, not protected from their sharp teeth.

I'm trying to help my family in this battle, and it's not so easy - in an unusual, human body. I chop with an ax, but for experienced warriors I am just a hindrance, annoying, annoying, from which you just need to wave your hand away. And yet I rejoice if one manages to distract one of the enemies from the jump of the wolves on his back.

First of all, I should get close to the north. Kitan is strong, but it is also not so easy to stand against a stranger. And yet, if you manage to defeat the leader, the victory can be celebrated over the whole pack. Even for humans, this law is inflexible.

I see them again, a black and silver shadow. Man fights against the owner of these lands - the wolf. A blizzard is spinning next to the north, submissive to its unbending will. Tarrum is an outsider who magically subjugates the frantic Icebang.