EMBER
“So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow.” Thorn nods, voice deep and certain.
I slip back into the hall, closing the door behind me. Only when the latch clicks do I let the smile spread across my face. Gods, I can still feel his lips on mine.
But when I look up, my chest tightens as a shadow grows.
“Olcan.” I gasp, pressing a hand to my heart. He’s standing only a few feet away, arms crossed, brows furrowed. His dark gaze flicks from me to Thorn’s door. “You scared me.”
“What are you doing here?” His tone is sharp as his eyes narrow on me. Then he sniffs the air.
“Huh?” My mind scrambles. “Oh, I was just—”
He huffs a humorless laugh. “You move fast for a virgin.”
“I don’t—”
“May the best man win.”
His smirk makes my stomach churn. I force my spine straight, smoothing my expression. Never show weakness in front of a snarling wolf. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m going to bed.”
“See you tomorrow, virgin.”
I grit my teeth at the nickname and walk past him, headed back to the safety of my room as I think to myself I hope not.
There are one-hundred-and-fifty scratches upon the stone ceiling above my bed. I know because I counted every single one over and over through the long hours of the night.
When Roman stirs awake, I’m already sitting up.
“You’re awake?” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes.
“Yeah, I can’t seem to rest my mind.”
“Are you nervous?”
“Just restless.”
He grins suddenly, boyish and bright. I’m going to miss seeing his happiness. “Come with me. I’ve got just the thing to get your mind off of it.”
We sneak through the castle, down the stairs and past the closed temple doors, a left turn, a few doors past Thorn’s, and deeper into an unused corridor.
Shadows pool in the corners and the scent of old books lingers.
Roman stops at a small alcove framed by two candlesticks and a faded portrait of a couple.
“Watch this.” He winks and pulls one of the candlesticks down. A click echoes, then a slow groan of shifting stone. The wall moves inward like a door, revealing darkness beyond.
My jaw drops. “Another secret door?”
“Another?” His eyes widen. “You found one too?”
“Yeah, in our room. Behind the mirror.”
“No way.” He gasps. “I can’t believe it was right under my nose! I’ll check that later. But wait until you see this.”
The narrow door opens into a cavernous space and my breath catches.
A library.
Three soaring stories of books rise to a vaulted, arched ceiling.
Balconies ring the upper levels, iron ladders stretching toward shelves packed with leather spines and parchment scrolls.
A massive hearth blazes on the main floor, its flames painting the shelves gold.
Armchairs and lounges are scattered across rugs, which is a warm contrast to the chill of the cliffside halls.
I step forward, awed. “Gods …”
Roman looks smug at my reaction. “Told you it was good.”
A figure sits in one of the armchairs by the fire. His red robes pool around him like a blanket, his balding head gleaming in the firelight. A priest, engrossed in his book.
“Don’t mind him,” Roman whispers. “That’s my friend, Wise.”
Wise glances up, offers a small smile, then returns to his page.
I collapse into the chair closest to the fire. After days in the cold belly of the cliff, and the nights under the cool night sky, the warmth seeps deliciously into my skin.
“Hey, that’s my spot,” Roman grumbles.
“Finder’s keepers.”
He shakes his head, auburn hair shimmering in the firelight, but sits in the leather chair across from me, grinning.
“I’ve been spending a lot of time here. Learning about the temple, the priests.
Did you know only a few of them vow never to eat meat?
And since they can’t shift on temple grounds, some of them stop using their wolf form altogether. ”
“That’s … sad,” I murmur, glancing at Wise. Would I be able to give up shifting for my devotion to the gods? I doubt it. It’s what makes us wolves.
Roman nods. “But not all of them. Wise still shifts, still hunts. He was explaining that when a priest takes their vows, you pick a new name; a wolf quality you want to embody. He was always buried in books, so he chose Wisdom. Makes sense, right?”
I smile faintly. “It does. There’s a whole new world here at the temple.”
“It made me think what I would want to be called.” He stares into the fire.
“Is Jerky Breath taken?” I snicker.
“No, they are saving that one for you, I was thinking more like Venture or Hunt.”
The fact that he even debates this makes me wonder if priesthood might be in his future? I don’t know, he loves to learn, but he’s got an adventurous soul. Would he be able to stay here all year while others come and go?
“So, this is where you’ve been going every day?”
“And some nights.” He smiles. Roman leans forward, animated now. “I’ve been reading too.”
“Wow, this place has changed you.” I shake my head sarcastically.
He ignores me, continuing, “Did you know in Maine, there’s a pack that lives in treetop villages, high above the ground?
And in Michigan, they built cabins around the Great Lakes — a real tourist spot.
Wolves can pick off stragglers and lonely visitors without anyone noticing.
” His grin falters slightly. “And the Aurora pack? They live in a solid block of ice along the Alaskan coast. Every winter, they hold a ceremony beneath the aurora lights.”
His eyes are shining. Gods, he’s been soaking all this up like a sponge. My little brother has been alone here for only a week, and he’s thrived. Better than I have. Maybe he doesn’t need me as much as I need him. To distract myself, I glance at the stack of books beside the chair.
“So, what are you currently reading?”
He pushes a heavy, coverless tome toward me, the parchment pages yellowed with age. I flip it open, scanning his careful marks in the margins.
Roman clears his throat, then begins to read aloud.
“When the gods first came down to bless the wolves with the Change, this cliff was only a mountain. But their touch split it open, forming the chasm, and from the ground grew a single tree. Its leaves have remained blood red ever since. Some say it’s from the blood of the gods themselves; others say it’s because it drinks the sacrifices made in their name.
The tree is autumn eternal, and it’s called sacred. ”
He looks up, eyes gleaming, before continuing:
“Around the tree, the priests built a circle. Not of stone, but of themselves. The lives taken while building the steep castle on the cliff, they buried their bones in the soil so the magic of the gods would never fade. That’s why the circle thrums with power still, why those mated pairs stand beneath the tree each season for the gods’ favor. ”
A shudder skitters down my spine. “I had no idea. I thought the trials were just…a ploy to ensure mating and a prosperous new generation of wolves.”
“Oh, it’s so much more,” Roman says, eyes bright. “The castle is a realm in itself. The priests here never stop preparing. Every season is part of preparation for the next season.”
“Wow, and yet some people treat it like their own personal dating site.”
Roman nods. “I don’t think we were ever taught this.
It’s possible Cullen doesn’t even know. He’s had his mate since before he became Alpha.
These traditions get lost the more the younger wolves take over, and word of mouth just isn’t what it used to be.
No one sits around a fire anymore telling stories of the gods. It’s becoming…archaic.”
I hug my knees to my chest, suddenly restless. “And here I am just trying to avoid getting mated.”
“Avoiding?” His brows furrow. “That didn’t seem the case with Alpha Thorn last night. Is there something you want to talk about?”
Heat rises to my cheeks. “It’s not really something I can discuss with my little brother.”
He rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to tell me all the dirty parts, Ember. Just the important ones.”
I sigh. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve always had to be strong, always had to know the next move. But now? I don’t. And it terrifies me.”
He tilts his head. “The Ember I know, the Ember who took care of me and kept me safe — always figures it out.”
Before I can answer, a book closes. Wise lifts his head, his voice calm but weighted.
“I don’t mean to pry,” he says, “but I’ll tell you what I’ve heard from the elder priest, when wolves come seeking counsel: Listen to the signs.
If the trials showed you someone, don’t ignore it.
These traditions aren’t parlor games. They are the will of the gods.
Ignore them too long, and the gods will stop offering such blessings.
They’ll take them elsewhere — or worse — to another race entirely. ”
The fire pops. Roman’s eyes are wide, fixed on me. “See? This guy knows everything.”
I wrap my arms around myself. My chest feels tight. What if he’s right? What if the gods don’t give me a second chance?
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I guess I’ve got some thinking to do.”
“Well, don’t take too long.” Roman smirks faintly. “You’re going to be chased and claimed in about five hours.”
No pressure.