EMBER
The moonlight spills down on me like a second skin.
Its glow clings to my bare arms as I pass the threshold of the castle’s doorway.
After tonight’s events, I was antsy and starving.
I hadn’t even made it to the main course, so I slipped down to the secret stairs for an early morning hunt while Roman was still asleep.
A romp in my wolf form was just what I needed to clear my head, at least for a little while.
But, back under the Ancient Castle’s vaulted roof, those feelings of dread and turmoil roll in like a cloud of rain.
In the foyer, my hand stills on the curve of railing before the first set of steps.
If I shift and run the steps in wolf form when there’s no one here to witness it, would it count as disobeying the rules?
I already disobeyed one rule, what’s one more?
Would they kick me out? That would save me from participating in these antiquated trials.
“You shouldn’t be here,” a deep voice scolds.
My hand flies to my chest as a dark figure steps from the shadows beside the doorway. He steps into a ray of moonlight. Long white hair is loose at his shoulders, three scars dissect his sharp cheekbones and cold eyes. Thorn.
“That is super creepy. Are you following me?”
“No,” he coughs, breaking his pretentious Alpha demeanor. “I’m waiting for someone.” He gestures vaguely toward the door behind us.
“Sure, you were,” I deadpan.
He steps closer. His size blocks the moonlight, shadowing his face.
“It’s not safe for you.” He lowers his voice. “Now that your… secret is out.”
“Well, there’s no blood to be spilled in the temple, right?” I shoot back, “That should save me.”
“I wouldn’t count on that.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No.” He steps forward again, his muscles flexing in the moonlight, all big and broody. Typical Alpha. “It’s a warning. Now, go back to your room.”
Now we’re eye to eye as I’m on the second step, his presence is magnetic and infuriating. His blue eyes scan me up and down.
I meet his eyes and hold them.
Never show weakness around a male.
“You’re not afraid of me?” he asks, voice low.
“Afraid of you? Because you’re big and bad, and your cock expands when you come.
No, I don’t think so.” There’s a rumor that Alphas have a special ability.
The base of their cock expands after release to seal them and their mate together.
Obviously, I’ve never seen it, but I’ve heard Honi’s appreciative moan echoing in the cave late at night.
His brow opposite the scar lifts. “That’s no way to speak to an Alpha.”
“You’re not my Alpha,” I scoff.
He huffs a breath, amused maybe. “You’re a firecracker.”
My smirk breaks into a grin, “Well, my name is Ember, and where there’s embers, there’s…”
“Fire,” he finishes.
“And they say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” I pat him on the shoulder. Solid. Gods, it’s firm. He’s warm, unlike this drafty stone castle, and it makes it hard to pull my arm away, so I don’t.
“Thorn,” a female voice calls, breathless.
“Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” A dark goddess comes running in, breaking my attention from Thorn.
Her hair is braided to the side and spills over her shoulder.
Her breasts rise and fall rapidly as the scent of fresh blood clings to her skin.
I withdraw my hand. “We’re not friends.”
Then I turn and climb the stairs two at a time.
The moon hangs low and heavy in the sky, casting the valley in silver and shadow. The grass glistens with dew, cold beneath my paws. A soft mist clings to the trees along the valley edge, like the gods are holding their breath.
I make sure to arrive fashionably late in wolf form through the hidden steps in the wall.
I didn’t want to risk a chance of running into anyone, especially not after my last encounter went so well last night.
Thankfully, by the time I reach the valley floor, every eligible wolf is already present and lined up beneath the full moon in our wolf forms. I linger in the back of the line of females.
When Cullen and Honi checked on me at sunrise, a little after my run-in with Thorn, I was half expecting to be disqualified after the events of the feast. But apparently, spilling virgin blood under the moon is blessed.
Lucky me. Then they filled me in on where to meet in the valley at midnight.
The way they described it, I thought it would be a little bit more ceremonious than this.
A simple line of torches guide us from the castle entrance to the deep plains of the valley.
Wolves are lined up in a semicircle in front of the torches.
Males on one side, females on the other.
The priest stands at the head of the circle between us, a lantern in one hand.
“Welcome to this season’s first trial, Howl.
Sound is vital to a wolf. It attracts us, repulses us, entices us.
Tonight, each of you will release your most enticing moonsong, howl under the holy moon.
Let your song be heard by the gods and those meant for you. ”
That’s it?
He raises the torch. “Males first.”
If these trials are this literal, I’m really dreading the taste trial.
Some lingering males still in human form shift into their wolf form, padding to the edge of the clearing. The rest of us females form a wide circle to watch. One by one, wolves step forward and lift their heads to the moon.
The first is loud. Confident. Barking out a clipped howl like he’s announcing himself to the world. A few females near me wag their tails. I feel nothing.
Another follows, it’s longer, drawn out, but hollow. Like he’s trying too hard to sound emotional.
The third is high-pitched. Awkward. Someone snickers.
The rest are a blur. The females down the line from me stare across, doe-eyed and entranced by the line of males howling their hearts out. They must be hearing symphonies; all I hear is echoing howls. Each one trying to be louder than the next.
Then a howl interrupts my thoughts. It’s deep, long.
It trembles the air as it climbs slowly, echoing against the valley cliffs.
It drags on, carrying with it a sorrowful sound.
A lonely wolf. It carries something that yearns, like a song sang from the hollow of a chest that’s been empty too long.
My ears twitch. The note quivers and grows into something rich and aching.
A haunting sort of beauty that wraps around my ribs and squeezes.
My eyes scan the line to find the source.
There, at the edge of the pack. A massive white wolf, muzzle trained to the sky, eyes closed.
His coat catches the moonlight like glistening snow.
He dips his head as the howl cuts off and I see three parallel scars dissecting his profile.
A little bit of his ear is missing as well.
His eyes open, ice blue like the tundra he comes from.
Don’t even think about it, Ember. Aurora pack doesn’t keep mates, they consume them.
As the rows of wolves howl their heart out, I hear nothing else that even compares. It’s got to be a trick or a fluke. Do Alphas have some kind of special howling ability?
Next, the females start, one after another. Their howls are noticeably different, and although beautiful, theirs are softer than their male counterparts. Elegant, some playful, some longing. A few males sit straighter. Some wave and wag their tails or growl low.
Finally, it’s my turn. I exhale slowly and step forward, paws quiet on the grass.
The clearing is too quiet. The wind stills.
I lift my head to the moon. With a deep breath, I slowly release my song.
Tension pours out of me as I sing to the gods.
All the pain of my parents’ death, of picking up the pieces and being strong for Roman.
The fear of being chosen. The terror of being un-chosen.
All my embarrassment of being made a spectacle, and for a moment, I forget they’re all watching.
When the howl fades to silence, I drop my head.
When I finish, I twist back in line and scan the crowd. A few lingering eyes remain focused on me, but mine collide with ice-blue ones. Unmoving. Unblinking.
Are they glistening?
It must be the moonlight. Aurora pack is cold and heartless. The Alpha of that pack would have to hold all those qualities tenfold.
After all have sung their hearts out, the priest ends the first trial.
Some wolves linger to mingle, already pairing off to flirt.
I steal away, back toward the secret door.
Only, I can’t seem to find it. Maybe it’s only available from the inside.
I pace back and forth a few times unsuccessfully.
With no other option, I circle to the front of the castle and climb the dreaded narrow, steep steps.
They are gloriously empty. I either missed the rush back, or most are lingering in the valley.
Inside the castle, I make the mistake of pausing after the first set of stairs, struggling to catch my breath on the second landing. Ugh, have I mentioned, I hate stairs. There’s a presence beside me.
“Listen, about last night…” He kicks off the wall he was leaning against. It’s the same insensitive ass from last night, the one who tried to tell me how to raise my brother. He continues, “Tempers are flaring and hormones are pumping. It was just the heat of the moment.”
Still not an apology. “Noted.”
“I wanted to start over, I’m Olcan of Aurora pack.”
“Noted,” I repeat.
“Aren’t you going to give me your name?” His voice sounds sweet, too sweet.
“No. We are not friends.”
“I’d like to be more than friends,” he says, voice dripping with insinuation. It’s a line, practiced. Probably worked for him before.
I should let it go. I shouldn’t push it. Werewolves are notoriously aggressive, especially around mating season, but I can’t help the words from falling out of my mouth, “Dream on, Olcan. I’m a virgin, not desperate.”
His smile vanishes. He grabs my wrist and shoves me back against the wall, teeth bared. “Then I’ll take it.”
Time slows. For a heartbeat, he releases the monster under his charm. I smile coldly and narrow my eyes. “Careful, your true self is showing.”