EMBER
What the hell?
My fingers close around something cold and solid buried beneath the dirt.
I wiggle it, pulling it loose until it comes free with a sucking sound.
Long and hard. A femur? Gods, it is a bone.
Roman had told me the Sacred Circle was built on the bodies of those who died building the castle, their bones part of the holy ground. I didn’t think they meant literally.
“That’s right, loosen up, baby.” My attacker’s voice is a growl at my ear, his hot breath burning my neck as he lines himself up behind me.
Rage explodes in my chest. I whip the femur free and swing. The bone cracks against his skull with a sickening thunk. His dark eyes go wide with shock as he topples off of me, groaning.
I don’t hesitate. I scramble on top of him, raising the bone again. He bares his teeth, fangs elongating, and claws raking at the dirt.
Smash. The bone collides with his temple. Blood splatters across my arms. He chokes, claws slipping weakly against me.
“You virgin bitch.” He coughs.
My grip tightens, white-knuckled. My arm arcs high, and I bring it down again. Crack. His face splits. Again. And again. Each blow fueled by the terror and rage clawing through me.
“Fuck this out of me—” Whack.
“You—” Whack.
“Stupid—” Whack.
“Son of a bitch!” Whack.
By the time I stop, his face is in ruin. His blood soaks the grass and drips down my arm, painting the femur slick and red. My breaths come in heaving, shaky gasps.
But he’s finally silent.
I rise slowly, the bone that’s dangling from my hand as blood pools at my feet.
My gaze lifts and I freeze.
Olcan stands a few feet away, the full moon carving sharp edges across his smirking face. Behind him, Thorn’s white wolf lies limp in the dirt, blood staining his white fur.
No.
I really screwed everything up. If I had just mated Thorn when I had the chance ... this wouldn’t be happening. Is he hurt or dead?
“There you are, virgin.” Olcan’s voice is thick with triumph.
“Are you memory impaired or just stupid? My name,” I snarl, “is Ember, you maggot.”
“Whatever you say.” He grins, flashing sharp teeth. “It looks like it’s just you and me now.”
I point at the broken bloody body at my feet, “That’s what he thought, too.”
“I’m an Alpha now.” His eyes glow red with bloodlust. “And you’re mine.”
“No, thanks. I’d rather eat vegetables.”
“You. Are. My. Mate,” Olcan commands in a venomous voice. This piece of garbage just tried to use his Alpha voice against me. Scum. But it doesn’t seem to be working. Hope flares hot in my chest — that means Thorn is still alive.
I grin, feral. “You are not my Alpha. And I am no one’s mate.”
His lip curls. “We’ll see.”
The bone spins in my hand, end over end, before I square it up over my shoulder. “Bring it on.”
Olcan launches. I roll aside, dirt and grass streaking my skin. He grabs my ankle, dragging me back. I slam the bone into his head. He grins through the blood, fangs lengthening. His red eyes are wild — unhinged.
He pounces again. This time he lands on me, his weight crushing the air from my lungs. I lose hold of the slick bone. His claws enclose my wrists, his cock pressing against my chest.
Revulsion burns me raw. “If you put that dick anywhere near me, I’ll bite it off.”
“Don’t worry, virgin,” he snarls, dripping spit onto my cheek. “You’ll make a fine Alpha’s mate. They need a little fire in their veins.”
I thrash, but it’s useless. His body is firm over mine, pinning me flat. My scream tears into the night.
I’m going to lose. I can’t fight him off. My arms are restrained. My weapon is out of reach. There’s no one coming to save me. This is going to happen. Fuck.
I go still.
His grin widens, believing he’s broken me. His fangs descend toward my throat.
“If you mate me…” I spit in his face. “I’ll make it my life’s mission to kill you.”
He chuckles darkly. “Good. I love a challenge.” His eyes brightening as he leans in and whispers, “And when I tire of you, I’ll kill you as well.”
Then he rears his head up to sink his teeth into me with enough force to make it hurt.
I close my eyes and accept that the gods have fated this, whether I want him or not.
The weight is ripped off me in an explosion of fur and snarls.
I scramble upright, heart hammering, as two wolves roll across the grass.
White and gray, locked in a storm of teeth and blood.
The white wolf surges up and clamps his jaws around the gray’s neck.
One savage snap — and Olcan gurgles, his body twitching before falling limp.
Silence.
The white wolf lifts his blood-slick muzzle, eyes blazing. Then he shifts.
Thorn.
Blood streaks his face, dripping down his chest, his abdomen. His body is battered, his eyes wild, but when they find mine they soften.
“Mate,” he whispers reverently, extending his hand.
Behind him, the tree line shifts, catching my attention. Eyes gleam in the shadows. He takes another step forward and stumbles slightly. His ankle is hurt and there is blood still dripping consistently from his head wound. He’s not healing fast enough.
More red eyes start to glow in the shadows of the trees. There’s too many. The two of us, exhausted and hurt, can’t fend them all off.
Thorn stumbles, still bleeding, still broken. If I go to him, they’ll rip him apart. He won’t survive. I’ll kill him by choosing him, and I will be stuck with a mate I don’t want.
Tears blur my vision as I step back. Another step.
“Ember?” his voice cracks, heartbreak woven through every syllable.
His eyes follow my feet as they cross the stone line into the Sacred Circle. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, the tears start to fall. His eyes widen as realization crashes into him.
The sound that rips from him is more than a roar — it’s anguish. He shifts, white wolf howling at the sky, then limps into the forest.
“Wait! I—” My throat closes.
The red eyes lining the forest vanish as well. Leaving me utterly alone again.
“Congratulations on being the first to arrive at the Sacred Tree.” a voice cuts through the night.
I turn, trembling to see the eldest priest standing tall, family and Alphas gathered behind him.
“You may have your choice of any mate as your prize. Who do you choose?”
Tears spill freely now, burning my cheeks. My voice shakes, but holds steady enough.
“I…” I clear my throat, forcing the words out. “I choose to leave unmated.”
The older priest doesn’t look pleased but he nods.
Roman is at my side in an instant, pulling me away from prying eyes. His hand is firm on my arm, grounding me, but I feel like I might shatter anyway. I wipe my face, swallowing the sob that claws at my throat.
I barely know Thorn. We’ve spoken for a handful of days, circled each other for a week. But my soul knows him. My soul aches for him.
Cullen approaches us, his face pale under the moonlight. “You’re covered in blood, are you okay? What happened? Why are there three dead wolves?”
“There was a Challenge,” I manage, my voice hoarse.
“For you?” His eyes widen.
“For everything. Alpha. Me.”
“Who won?” he looks around, scanning the sacred grounds as if Thorn might appear from the shadows. “No one is here.”
“Thorn.” His name catches in my throat. “Thorn won.”
“Then where is he?”
“I …” The words won’t come. My voice finally breaks, my chest caves, and I choke on the truth. Cullen studies me for a long, quiet moment, then nods grimly. “You didn’t choose him.”
My head bows, fresh tears spilling down my cheeks.
Cullen runs his fingers through his hair, pacing back and forth slowly. “Ember, you know, if it’s about Roman, we would have taken care of him.”
“I…” My chest burns. They don’t understand. I could never put that burden on anyone. Thorn included. Besides, I don’t want to be away from him. He’s my brother, my last living relative. My last piece of home.
Roman’s gaze flicks between us, sharp, knowing. “It was, wasn’t it?”
“No…no.” I shake my head, but it feels weak, hollow. “It was a lot of things.”
His young face steels with determination. “You know I’m a big wolf, Ember, I can handle myself. Plus, I can join the Guard next year when I turn nine.”
A tear slips down my cheek. Gods, he’s still a boy, though he talks like a man. “I know, it was more than that. I just…I’m not ready.”
They both nod, though I see the silent exchange of frustration and confusion between them. Finally, Cullen exhales, placing a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Congrats on your win. We start the return with our new mated wolves at daybreak. Go rest.”
Rest. The word is laughable. There’s no rest inside me, not tonight. Not ever again.
So instead, I shift, auburn fur exploding over my body, and I run. I run until the forest blurs, until the cool wind dries the salt of my tears, until my paws ache from pounding the earth. But nothing makes it easier for me to breathe.
When I return to the temple, it is an hour before dawn. The sky is a bruise of purple and gray and the stone walls loom like a shadow above me.
I head straight for Thorn’s quarters. The way I left him, with no explanation, gnaws at me. It wasn’t fair. He deserves more. He deserves everything.
My hand pauses before the door. On the run back, I’d rehearsed a dozen ways to tell him. To somehow explain and to beg him to understand. But as my fingers hover inches from the wood, every word vanishes.
Still, I knock anyway.
Silence.
I knock again, harder. “Thorn, it’s me. I just want to talk.”
Nothing.
I pace the hallway twice, back and forth like I’m being haunted by my own choices, before I can’t stand it anymore. My hand wraps around the knob. It gives beneath my touch.
The door creaks open.
“Thorn?” My voice trembles as I push it wide.
It slams against the wall, revealing only…emptiness.
The room is bare, stripped of life. I step inside, my heart sinking with every step until I reach the three windows at the far wall.
Glass shards glitter the stone like broken ice. Wind whips in through a gaping hole where one of the windows used to be. I move closer, my bare feet crunching over the glass.
And then I see him.
Down in the valley below, a pack of wolves run across the open field, climbing the far hill. Thorn’s massive white wolf ahead of them, his pace punishing, impossible to match even with a slight limp.
I press a hand to the cold stone windowsill, my throat closing.
He’s gone.
Back to Alaska.
I never got to explain. I never got to beg forgiveness. Worst of all, I never got to say goodbye.