Saffron’s Fate (Fated Ink #2)

Chapter One

The battlefield was already lost.

Smoke choked the air, clinging to Saffron Walsh’s tongue and stinging her eyes as she crouched behind the jagged ridge, her nails digging deep furrows into the frozen ground.

Musket fire cracked like thunder in the distance, mingling with the guttural cries of men who had long since accepted that death would claim them tonight.

The sharp tang of blood and gunpowder pressed against her senses, but beneath it all, she could still smell them—her sisters, her coven.

And the two men pressed close at her sides—Alaric and Ryan.

Her mates.

Her future.

And they were breaking.

“No, Goddess, please,” Ryan rasped, his voice hoarse, raw.

His hands shook where they braced against the earth, veins standing out beneath skin dusted with ash.

He lurched forward, every muscle taut, ready to launch himself into the chaos below.

His wolf clamored beneath his skin, pushing, tearing, desperate to break free, but Saffron placed a hand against his shoulder, hating the way he shook.

Alaric was no better. His jaw clenched so hard she swore she heard the bone creak, his broad shoulders quaking with the effort of holding himself back.

His brother’s scream—the death cry of Liam—still echoed through the valley, carried on the night wind like a dirge.

Liam had stepped in front of the blade heading for his twin brother Jacob.

And Jacob—dear, fierce Jacob—his scent of pine and cedar cut off in an instant as his body fell lifeless to the trampled earth beside his brother mere moments later.

Saffron squeezed her eyes shut, willing the hot sting of tears away. She couldn’t afford them. Not now.

Below, Libby—sweet Libby, who had only just found her joy in her fated mates—fought with everything she had.

Her power sparked in the air, bright and defiant, but Matthew was ready for her.

His warlock brethren circled, their chants dark and steady, weaving a net of power designed to smother the light from her soul.

And when she finally collapsed, her scream ripped through the night like glass shattering.

The sound shattered Saffron, too.

Ryan lunged forward, but Saffron’s hand shot out, catching his wrist. Her grip trembled with her own grief, but her voice—Goddess help her—remained steady. “You can’t,” she whispered fiercely. “Not now.”

He spun on her, eyes glowing molten gold, his wolf a breath away from breaking free. “They killed her. They killed them. Liam. Jacob. Libby—” His chest heaved, words strangled by rage. “And you tell me to stay?”

Alaric’s fists slammed into the dirt, his knuckles splitting, blood smearing across the frozen earth. “We should be down there. We should avenge them.”

Saffron’s heart tore anew, because she wanted nothing more. To leap into the fray, to burn Matthew to ash, to hold Libby and tell her she wasn’t alone in her last breath. To fight beside Ryan and Alaric as she’d promised. But destiny was cruel, and tonight was not theirs to change.

Her voice cracked as she forced the words out. “You have to trust me. Please.”

Ryan’s eyes narrowed, fury and anguish mingling into something that nearly undid her. “Trust you? While my brothers’ blood soaks the ground?”

Saffron’s throat burned as she swallowed back a sob. She shifted closer, her palms pressing against their broad chests, feeling the tremors running through them. “We spoke of this. We knew what was coming.”

Alaric’s head snapped toward her, his dark hair wild around his face, eyes bright with unshed tears.

“You knew,” he growled, the words scraping like broken glass.

“You saw it in your visions, you felt it in your bones—and still, you held your tongue. You let us believe we might save them. You let us stand here, powerless, watching my brothers be cut down while you carried the truth. And still, you did nothing.”

Her chest caved at the accusation, even though it wasn’t truly meant for her. She had seen it—in dreams, in visions, in the threads of fate the Goddess had shown her. And she had borne the burden alone, because telling them would have broken them sooner.

Her voice dropped to a raw whisper. “If we stop this now, if we try to change it here, we lose everything. Matthew has the Council’s blessing.

His magic is tethered by power beyond ours.

If we fall tonight, the curse takes root with no chance to unravel it.

We lose not only your brothers and Libby, but every chance of balance for the world. ”

Alaric’s breath came ragged, his great hands trembling where they gripped her arms. “Are you sure that what we do here, now, in this godsforsaken place, will save our kind?”

Her vision blurred, tears spilling despite her will. She couldn’t lie to them. “Yes.” The word cracked, breaking her in half. “Because there is more at stake than our happiness. If we don’t play the long game, there will be no future. No wolves. No shifters. No balance. Nothing.”

The silence that followed was unbearable, broken only by the clash of steel and the crackle of spellfire in the distance.

And then, with a groan of despair, both men surged forward—not toward the battle, but into her.

Their arms wrapped around her, crushing, desperate.

She was trapped between their heaving chests, their sobs muffled against her hair.

Ryan’s voice shook against her ear. “Goddess forgive us. Goddess forgive you.”

Saffron clung to them, her own sobs tearing loose now that there was no stopping them.

She buried her face against Alaric’s shoulder, inhaling his scent—oak and storm—knowing she might never breathe it in again.

Ryan pressed a kiss to her temple, his lips trembling, his own scent of iron and wild clover wrapping around her, fierce and grounding.

The strength of them, the weight of them, anchored her even as her heart splintered beyond repair.

The final cry from the battlefield—a silence where Libby’s light had been—ripped through her soul.

Saffron screamed into the night, the sound raw and keening, echoing across the blood-soaked fields.

She cursed the Moon Goddess, cursed every deity who had woven this cruel fate.

She cursed herself most of all, for making the choice that would tear her from her mates, that would demand she live while those she loved were slaughtered.

Her body shook violently, wracked with grief, but Alaric and Ryan held her tighter, trying to anchor her breaking soul with their own broken bodies. The warmth of their tears mingled with hers, falling into the frozen soil that drank deeply of too much blood this night.

And beneath the weight of their embrace, with war howling around them, Saffron vowed that this sacrifice would not be in vain. That even as her heart was torn from her chest, she would see Matthew undone. She would see balance restored. She would make this choice mean something.

Or she would burn the world to ash trying.

****

1996

“Boys, get up!” their father yelled, his voice sharp enough to slice through Isaac’s dreams. At eleven, Isaac jolted upright, coughing as smoke clawed under the bedroom door.

Nolan whimpered, eight years old and rubbing his eyes, confusion giving way to fear as the roar of flame thundered beneath them.

“The house is on fire,” their father barked, striding into the room, rough hands seizing Isaac’s arm before scooping Nolan from his bed.

“No time—hold tight.” The air was already thick, bitter and choking.

Isaac’s eyes watered, his chest burning as their father stumbled toward the window at the end of the hall.

The stairwell was gone, flames devouring it like a monster breathing fire into the walls.

Heat shimmered against the glass panes, paint bubbling and plaster cracking.

Their father smashed the window with his elbow, shards scattering into the night, the sudden rush of cool air a cruel contrast to the furnace behind them.

He turned to Isaac, gripping his shoulders, urgency blazing in his smoke-reddened eyes.

“You first, son. Be strong for your brother.” His voice broke, thick with smoke, words cutting down to something more cryptic.

“What sleeps in your blood will rise again. Remember—you will not walk alone. Your fate will find you.”

Isaac’s heart lurched at the words, too heavy, too strange, but there was no time to question. Their father dangled him from the sill.

“Brace for the impact!” he commanded before letting go.

Isaac dropped into the yard below, his knees jarring on the hard earth. Cool night air filled his lungs, harsh and blessed all at once.

“Catch your brother!” his father shouted above. Isaac staggered to his feet, arms out as Nolan was shoved into his grasp. Nolan screamed, clinging tight as Isaac wrapped him close, shielding him from the spray of sparks raining down.

Above them, their father’s soot-streaked face appeared again in the broken window. Their mother coughed violently as she reached their father by window.

“Go!” she cried, voice cracking. “Get away from the house!”

Their father turned toward her, reaching out.

For a heartbeat Isaac believed they would follow, that somehow this nightmare would end.

But then the floor groaned, a terrible sound that ripped through the night.

With a deafening snap, the beams gave way, collapsing beneath their parents.

They vanished into the inferno raging below, their cries swallowed by the flames.

“No!” Isaac’s scream tore his throat raw as orange light painted the night.

He clutched Nolan tighter, both of them trembling, knowing with a bone-deep certainty that their parents were gone.

They would learn in the coming days that their land would go with the house, mortgaged as it was and no insurance, no family to take them in.

Just the two of them, small and shattered.

At first, the system tried. Foster care placed them together until Nolan was chosen by a family that promised kindness.

Isaac had screamed, begged, fought to keep his brother with him, but the courts didn’t listen.

He was too young to be Nolan’s guardian, too poor to be anything more than another case file.

Weeks later, Nolan ran back to him in the middle of the night, bruises blooming across his arms, his voice breaking as he whispered what they’d done.

Isaac swore then that no one would ever take his brother from him again.

So, they vanished.

Two boys on the streets, learning fast how to survive with nothing but each other.

Isaac scavenged and schemed, taking whatever odd jobs he could—sometimes being paid under the table, sometimes not so legal.

Nolan, reckless as ever, picked pockets and charmed his way into trouble, but Isaac was always there to drag him out again.

They slept under bridges, in abandoned buildings, sometimes with full bellies, sometimes with nothing at all.

But they had each other, and that was enough.

****

Years hardened them, shaped them. Isaac grew into a man who carried control like armor, while Nolan carried chaos like a banner.

Isaac knew he wanted to protect people, to make the world a better place.

Nolan often told him he had a superhero complex, and maybe he did.

The New York Fire Department gave him the ability to help others, and the adrenalin rush he seemed to crave.

Nolan signed up as soon as he was able to.

Isaac took to the work with relentless discipline, Nolan with wild courage. They became a team others could rely on, brothers forged in flame, determined to save lives no matter the cost. Each of them had an unerring ability to find those who were lost in the fire and the smoke.

Now, at twenty-nine and twenty-six, Isaac and Nolan sat side by side in the cab as the truck braked hard in front of a blazing apartment complex. Flames licked up the brick like they had a will of their own, curling in patterns that made Isaac’s skin prickle.

“Tell me that doesn’t look wrong,” Nolan muttered, eyes narrowing as he tugged on his gear. His usual reckless grin was gone, replaced by something sharper, more wary.

Isaac squinted through the windshield. The fire moved in waves, not random but deliberate, as if invisible hands guided the flames higher.

“It’s not natural,” he said, voice low. “I’ve fought enough fires to know how they breathe and how they move.

This is not normal. It’s like it’s ... raging at the world, defying physics. ”

Nolan gave a humorless laugh, though tension tightened his shoulders. “Then let’s make sure it doesn’t win. People are still in there.”

The moment the cab doors slammed open, they moved in unison, Isaac and Nolan falling into rhythm the way only brothers could.

Boots hit pavement, the roar of the fire nearly drowning out the screams from above.

Heat pressed against their skin in suffocating waves, smoke curling with a strange shimmer that made Isaac’s instincts scream.

Families cried from the upper windows, shadows flailing in desperation.

“Ready?” Nolan shouted over the noise, grim-faced, his courage shining even through the fear.

Isaac nodded, the old need to protect rising sharp in his chest. “Always.”

And then, through the curtain of fire, a figure stepped into view.

A man waving his arms as if he were conducting the blaze, and the fire obeyed.

Isaac’s heart stuttered, a chill running down his spine as their gazes locked.

Hatred and a wild, unsettling madness burned in the man’s eyes, and Isaac shivered under the weight of it.

“Isaac!” Nolan shouted, snapping him back.

Then, with the same fierce edge he used on every call, Nolan roared their creed—words he’d said since academy days. “No one dies on our watch!”

The phrase cut through Isaac’s fear like steel, anchoring him.

The two brothers surged forward, running toward the building.

Heat and smoke clawed at them, glass bursting outward as the fire raged, but they didn’t hesitate.

Side by side they plunged into the flames, their world narrowing to screams, smoke, and the oath they carried between them.