EMBER
Iconsider myself in shape. I hunt. I train. I won that race to the castle and didn’t even cheat. But those steep cliffside steps? They proved me wrong.
Thankfully, I’m not the only one gasping.
Every wolf except Roman is breathing like we just fought off a bear.
He trots ahead, not a care in the world, not a bead of sweat in sight.
The rest of us stumble through the large arched doorway.
The stone foyer stretches high into the rafters that rise in peaks above us, a candelabra hangs down from the central arch.
A pair of stone steps rise above us, hiding a set of double doors in their shadows.
A red-robed figure waits above on the first floor, leaning both palms on the balustrade, watching us file into the foyer.
His gaze is a weighted stare, measuring each of us.
His robe flows from hood to foot, the fabric a deep crimson.
The color alone signals he resides here at the castle.
The Ancient Castle’s priests are the only pack to devote their lives to the gods.
They are also the only pack that doesn’t participate in the Mating Trials. They don’t mate. They exist to serve.
He disappears through a side hall before we can ask questions.
Roman leans in. “You think he’s got antlers under that hood?”
“I think maybe he’s bald, even in wolf form,” I whisper back.
He stifles a laugh. Cullen hears. He and his mate, Honi, both shoot us sharp looks.
Then the rush begins.
Dozens of the pack bolt up the stairs, racing for the best rooms. Rumor has it, the stone castle can get cold and drafty, even for a wolf. So the window rooms on the left side of the hall, that catch the sun, are the most coveted.
That, and one can see all the packs arriving to get a first glimpse at the available mates.
“Ugh, more stairs.” I groan, looking up at them as the clomping of footsteps fades.
Roman shrugs beside me. Just us again, per usual. We’ve learned to keep our distance from the pack. Especially when they get into pack mode and all rush forward at once. That’s how people get trampled. Or worse. After all, that’s how mother and father were killed.
“Ember?”
I jump as Dove steps to my side. I didn’t even realize she was behind me.
“I’ve been thinking.” She gives a soft smile, before it turns into a frown. “This week is going to be really life changing for us. I want to be able to listen to my instincts to make a good decision on my trials.”
“Oh.”
“You see… Here, we are each other’s competition.”
“Competition?” Dread pools in my gut.
She nods. “There are only so many available mates,” she continues, not meeting my eyes. “I plan on getting mine. I think it’s best we go our separate ways from here.”
With those simple words, she climbs the stairs without ever looking back. I’m truly going into this process alone. Although, the joke’s on her, I didn’t plan on taking a mate.
By the time I reach the top, the hallway is nearly empty. All the rooms are claimed. Except one. The last room, tucked in the back corner, far from the windows.
It’s cold. Extra dusty. But it has two beds. Perfect.
“Wow. Those priests don’t know how to dust, do they?” Roman comments, swiping a finger across a tall bookcase.
“They probably can’t make it up all the stairs in those heavy robes,” I mumble, still out of breath.
“If they aren’t used to all the stairs by now, the gods should have blessed them to become an owl shifter instead.”
“I could use some wings of my own after those steep steps into the castle.”
“Speaking of stairs, I’m exhausted. I think I’m going to take a nap before the feast.”
“You’re supposed to be the spry wolf here.”
“I’m trying not to make you feel bad. I hear you gasping over there.” He yawns, collapsing on the bed in the corner.
“Mmhmm.” I roll my eyes.
Roman doesn’t notice, he’s already curling up, bringing his knees to his chest as if he were in wolf form.
Awake he looks so much like father with his green eyes and tall stature.
But when he’s sleeping, his face reminds me of our mother.
Quiet and serene. I miss her. Her flowing red hair, her ever-knowing eyes.
I wonder what she was like during her trials.
Could this have been her room? Did she find father on her first trial?
So many questions I never got to ask her.
So many questions that will go unanswered.
I try to lie down, but the room’s too still and my thoughts are too loud.
Instead, I start looking around the room for something to keep me busy.
The five-tier bookshelf by Roman’s bed is dusty.
The selection looks older than the walls themselves.
Some titles are even written in the old language.
I take a few down and the spines crack and peel with age.
Bored, I drift toward the back of the room.
There’s an alcove with only a mirror on the far wall and a circular table in the center.
Slipping around the table, I stare into my reflection.
The edge of my light auburn hair curls around my breasts.
Sunburnt skin with a constellation of freckles across my cheeks.
My pale blue eyes are as light as the sky on a warm summer day.
Three scars across my abdomen remind me how far I’ve come.
I’m strong. I’ve survived certain death; I will survive this too.
Will this be my last week as just a female? After this, I am someone’s mate.
I lean into the mirror, bracing my palms on its edges, exhaling slowly. Click. The wall behind the mirror shifts. Stone grinds as dust billows in a tiny cloud before it opens to darkness.
A secret door.
I peek inside. A spiraling staircase swirls into the darkness below.
“Ugh, not more stairs,” I bemoan.
Regardless of my aversion to the steps, curiosity gets the better of me and I descend the stairs. The staircase winds downward, narrow and steep. It smells like damp stone and age. At the bottom, a heavy arched door stands waiting. I brace both arms and shove.
It gives.
A burst of fresh air hits me like freedom. Before me, the valley stretches wide and lush beneath the mid-afternoon sun. Birds dart across the sky. Trees sway against the cloudless blue.
Not just a secret door, but a secret exit.
Interesting.
Perfect timing, because my nerves are fraying, and my energy has nowhere to go. I shift mid-step, fur overtaking skin and bound into the trees.
Wolf form is … quieter. Emotions never fully disappear; they are simply muted for a time. Fears, memories, and questions fade to whispers, leaving instinct in control.
The wind threads through my coat. Leaves blur past. The forest is a pulse and my heart beats in tune with it. A musky scent pulls me left. Something darts through the brush.
I give chase. Branches and leaves whip past me as I follow the trail. Paws pounding against the soil, my breath sharp and focused. The scent of fresh meat in my nose, the hunt, the bloodlust. My mouth waters at the thought of a fresh kill.
My neck bends until my nose is one with the ground, then the bloodlust takes over.
My world is coated in a shade of red. I follow the trail through the bushes and across the grass, deeper into the trees.
It’s strong here. I crouch behind a low bush, peering out.
A fox, small and red-furred digging at the base of a tree.
I’m solely focused on the meal in front of me.
Its heart is pumping. Thump. Thump. The calm tune tells me it’s unaware of my presence. I inch forward. Back arching to pounce.
Instinct takes over, I leap on my unsuspecting victim. Flashes of teeth and fur and then the coppery taste of blood satiating the beast within.
When the bloodlust fades and the forest turns back to green, I’m left with the result. A bloody fox corpse at my feet. Its hair is a similar shade to mine. Blood drips from my jowls and lands beside it.
I was never any good at this part, the aftermath.
It’s one part of being a werewolf I’m not okay with.
Maybe it’s due to the bloody scene that took our parents, but I don’t think I’ve ever really had it in me.
The killing, the bloody mess at my feet.
The innocence taken at my hands. I glance next to his limp form; he was digging a hole.
My claws dig deeper, widening it. I place the limp fox inside and cover it up.
I bet he didn’t know he was digging his own grave.
I say a silent prayer to the moon gods to bless its soul before wiping the blood off my chin and paws on the leaves beside the tiny grave.
When I take a deep breath and turn back around, I feel better.
Some of my nervous energy has been expended and a feeling of serenity passes over me.
I sniff the air to find the path back to the Ancient Castle when I freeze.
Across the valley, high on a ridge, stands a tall, white wolf.
Still as stone. Eyes glowing blue. Watching me.
How long has he been there?
With a shake of my head, I bolt back through the forest before I can question it. Heart pounding, paws flying, the ghost of his gaze still burning behind me.