Between the Dimensions✔️

Prologue

-Killian-

The Princeps Viatorem crushes my neck with her boot.

I cough, tapping on the ground to signal my surrender.

She sighs, taking her boot off my throat and offering a hand to help me up. The Princeps Viatorem is strong, harsh, but she needs to be to lead the Viatoribus.

"What are you going to do if you can't traverse the dimensions in a fight?" She asks me rhetorically as we get a drink of water. "You may be the Ultimum Viatorem, but you can not just be that. You must be more."

I nod. She is wise, a good leader to the nomadic group of wolves. "Again," I say, and she grins wickedly before we continue our sparing.

With only one arm, it's not easy to win in hand-to-hand combat, but the Princeps Viatorem has been training me since I was young with the other Viatoribus.

Instead of the lack of limb hindering me, it has made me stronger, set a fire in my heart to push me to work harder, be better. When I take my rightful place as Alpha of Crimson Shadow when I turn 18 in three years, I will be strong.

But the Princeps Viatorem is no ordinary wolf, and she pins me numerous times before releasing me to my tent to rest.

We're in a desert land for now, and beads of sweat soak my body as I lay on my cot, alone in my small tent that I will someday soon have to pack up and carry to wherever the Viatoribus go next. It is no easy life, but it has made me more resilient than a life of luxury that I would have been subjected to if I stayed with my father in Crimson Shadow.

Not that I had the choice.

Sleep finds me easily, as it always does after a hard training. But as I dream, I soon realize it is no ordinary dream at all.

I'm standing in a forest instead of the desert, and I can practically feel the cool mist around me, smell the dirt on the ground.

A woman stands before me, hair dark as night and skin like the moon.

"Hello, Killian," She grins warmly.

Unlike other dreams, where I have no control, I'm able to speak.

"Who are you?" I ask in confusion, yet deeply fascinated by the ethereal woman standing in front of me.

"I am Selene, Goddess of the Moon," She says, and something about her warns me to run, run far away. The Viatoribus did not worship Selene, only Helios, God of the Sun.

"Are... Are you really here?" I ask, because it seems so real, all of my senses on fire.

She laughs gently. "I am really speaking to you while you dream, Killian. I need to make a request."

"A request," I repeat, and though her words sound soft, a chill runs through my spine.

Selene nods, and her white gown sways slightly from the wind. The wind that I can feel against my skin. "I need you to voluntarily give up your Gift."

"No." My response is immediate.

Her eyes narrow slightly as her mouth presses into a hard line. "You must."

"No," I repeat. "I am the Ultimum Viatorem. It is my destiny to traverse between the dimensions."

Words that have been hounded into me since my first day with the Viatoribus.

She snarls, and I flinch. I can sense her power, even in this dreamlike state. "I am only going to offer you this once. You have the chance to choose between your Gift, or your mate."

My mate? I was only fifteen years of age, hadn't much thought about having a mate at all. It was an easy choice.

"Listen up, Selene," I tell her, not scared of a dream. "I will traverse between the dimensions for as long as I shall live. It is my destiny. Now get the fuck out of my head."

Instantly, I wake up, gasping for air, and I'm relieved to see that I'm still in my tent, can no longer feel the forest mist or wind.

I hear people shouting, crying for help, and I immediately race out of my tent to see what all of the commotion is about.

I can smell the blood right away.

I push through the crowd of Viatoribus, feeling drawn to whatever is at the center. The Princeps Viatorem is leaning over a girl.

I can tell right away that she was my mate.

My wolf howls inside my head, clawing to get out, shift and kill everyone in sight.

A part of my heart I didn't even know existed suddenly felt very, very hollow.

The girl has a slashed throat, so deeply cut that her head was barely attached to her neck. And there is a black crescent moon painted on her forehead.

The dream was no dream at all.

Selene was real, and she just killed my mate.

"She was my mate," I whisper to the Princeps Viatorem in horror, sinking to my knees. "Selene came to me in a dream. Told me to give up my Gift or my mate. I chose my Gift."

The Princeps Viatorem looks to her Second, seemingly deeply distressed by what I said, before looking back to me and taking my hand.

"Killian, you are the Ultimum Viatorem. It's time I tell you about the prophecy, and your ultimate destiny."