2. EMBER
EMBER
With every pounding step, the weight of fate presses against my chest like a boulder balanced on a ledge. One wrong move, and it all comes crashing down.
Ever since we left the cave, an uneasy feeling has settled over me, coiling tight in my gut. As if some ancient part of me knows this run is more than just a journey, it’s the final stretch before everything changes.
Even the forest seems to know it. The trees sway but remain silent. No bird calls. No scurrying prey. Just the soft thunder of paws on earth and wind ruffling my fur. The canopy above us is still as we pass in flashes of fur and greenery.
Roman races beside me, weaving between trunks like a streak of wildfire. His auburn coat gleams in the slanting sunlight, one shade darker than mine. Just like Mother’s.
A tinge of pain ripples through me. Even in wolf form, where emotions are limited, the grief remains strong.
Roman barks, carefree and high-pitched. For him, this is just a fun pack trip. His first real adventure outside of our territory. He doesn’t know that with every stride forward, I get closer to a future I never asked for, which will possibly take me farther from him.
Up ahead, Cullen halts. His towering chestnut wolf form stands like a statue against the tree line. One flick of his ear, and we stop. The resounding paw steps stop. The silence ripples outward. Dozens of wolves still, with their ears pricked and breath held.
Before us, the trees give way. The heart of the valley opens up below. Rolling hills dotted with late spring blooms stretch toward the horizon. A forest of trees line the far valley as far as the eye can see.
On the far cliff wall, carved directly into the stone, rises a castle. The walls are etched with time. Ivy wraps the turrets like ceremonial ribbons. Massive arched windows catch the sun, and two towers jut upward, their peaks lost in the mist.
The Ancient Castle.
The place where, according to lore, the gods blessed the first wolf with the Change. The origin of the mating bond and the creation of the Mating Trials.
A chill runs down my spine, despite the warmth of the sunlight.
Roman’s howl pierces the stillness. Others join in, some playful, some reverent. The valley fills with sounds.
My lips peel back in a smile, but in my wolf form, it always looks a little goofy. But his eight-year-old joy is infectious. How can I tell him this may be our last run together?
While my life may change, his is forced to stay the same.
I yell, “Last one to the castle is a Dodo Bird.”
Roman’s wolf flashes me a fang-filled grin before dashing out of the tree line into the sun. Dove’s golden fur is just visible at the edge of the group. She perks up and charges forward. I shift back fully and leap into a sprint.
The wind whips past my ears. Grass blurs beneath my feet. For a moment, I forget the trials, the castle, the dread clawing at my chest.
It’s just the run.
A blur of fur and laughter. Roman elbows me and takes the lead. I tackle him sideways and we tumble down a small hill in a tangle of limbs, yipping and growling like carefree pups. Dove leaps over us in a huff, wagging her tail.
I right myself and race ahead, dirt kicking behind me. The pack follows, joy buzzing in the air like static. This. This is what it means to be a wolf. To run wild. To feel the earth beneath your paws and the freedom of it all.
The pack slows as the castle steps rise before us, massive stone blocks that are wider at the bottom and grow narrow and winding as they rise to the large castle opening above. They are worn smooth by centuries of wolves ascending the steps to meet their fate.
The fun bleeds out of the moment like color fading from a dream.
One by one, we shift back into human form, panting, smiling, hesitating.
After all the shuffling and shifting ends, the silence settles again.
The castle looms above us. I swallow hard.
Roman bumps my shoulder and grins, still flushed with exertion.
I manage a smile in return. He doesn’t see the panic behind my eyes.
Dove steps to my side, brushing leaves from her golden hair. “Are you okay?” she asks, her tone light, but her eyes all knowing.
I nod. “Guess it’s time to meet our fate.”