6. Ash
Ash
Peter, my Regulator, creates medicine that dampens the fire I carry.
It’s alchemy formulated especially for me.
Before we arrived in Stormcrest territory, we debated the dosage I should take the first night I’m around my enemies, and he suggested six times the normal dose. Just in case, I took seven vials.
In comparison, the other two elemental wolves take a single vial of medicine daily. The recommended threshold is three vials at the most.
When seven fail to help me control my element, the treatment is considered a failure, and that failure gives me the right to seek another Regulator. But Peter is three years shy of the retirement he’s been dreaming about the entire time I’ve known him.
In the human territories, they train people to work for a system designed to suck the life out of them, so that when the life they’ve worked for finally arrives, they don’t live long enough to enjoy it.
Unlike most, Peter lived in wolf territory. His life expectancy is much higher. His doctor admitted it’s because he “ran with the wolves.”
Peter most certainly didn’t run with us. Humans can’t keep up, but he ate like a carnivore, laughed with us at our many absurd gatherings, and went to bed knowing his family was provided for. Having fun while on the job is underrated. It shouldn’t be. We spend most of our lives working.
Since my work as a carrier of fire involves making sure that my element is contained, I can’t ignore what happened last night.
Heat shouldn’t have churned in my blood so freely.
Even after the signing, I couldn’t tame the burn with alcohol, no matter how much ale I drank to try to forget about my engagement to the Stormcrest princess.
For all I care, Maren Stormcrest can remain frigid and taciturn toward me. She is welcome to spend her life hoping the flames consume me. Should that happen, the element I carry would jump into another werewolf.
There aren’t a lot of alphas left in the world who are able to contain this element, even though there are plenty who think they can. Unfortunately for Maren and the rest of the world that wants me dead, the fire is clinging to me, probably for life.
The wooden bed groans under my weight as I sit and rub the back of my neck. I massage it, hoping it will ease the headache I woke up with this morning.
Maybe I just need to move around for a while.
The Stormcrest pack assigned us an entire tower in their lavish castle. We even have natural hot-water baths, and I intend to take advantage of the facilities. The water might even cool this burning inside me.
I slide on my jeans before I walk out onto the terrace.
Wow, the view is stunning: snow-covered mountains, winding roads, predatory birds circling quietly above the fresh tracks in the snow.
I check the sun. It’s not yet noon. I didn’t get much sleep, but I didn’t expect to, seeing as how I prefer my own bed.
A freezing wind blows, carrying a dusting of snow that melts as soon as it lands on my skin.
It’s negative infinity out here, but I’m running hotter than usual.
I’m surprised Peter hasn’t woken me up already with a solution to my flare-up.
He’s attentive and one of the finest alchemists who has ever lived.
He’s won multiple competitions and awards, something humans care about.
They wouldn’t let him near me if he weren’t the very best.
Another gust blows, this one powerful enough to push me back a step. The snow melts, and now my jeans are wet. I grab the railing and purse my lips, wondering how long I’ll have to wear them before they dry.
“What’s the matter, Fireborn? Is our weather upsetting you?”
On the bridge below connecting the castle with the tower we’re staying in, the sister of my promised bride trudges through the snow, carrying fresh linens and towels in a woven basket on her head. Two other females carrying bags snicker.
“Not at all,” I say. “I was about to take a bath in this nice cold weather.”
She stops before entering the tower and looks up, but her gaze fails to reach my eyes before it lands on my crotch. Or, more accurately, my morning wood. My jeans are wet, and I have a knot. It takes a few seconds before she can look away.
Her gaze travels upward, and the urge to flex overcomes my reason. Luckily, my muscles flex subtly, so it doesn’t look like I’m showing off the way a peacock might to attract a possible mate.
Runa sets the basket on the steps. “Get your wolf ass downstairs and open the door. I didn’t come here to ogle you.”
Nothing humbles a wolf faster than an unimpressed female. “Say it nicely.”
She tilts her head to the side like an adorable pup trying to understand what I said. “I did.”
Her companions snicker.
Obviously, the little wolf’s cuteness means she gets away with everything. Not to mention, she’s the youngest of the three siblings and probably a stranger to discipline.
On my way down, I grab a black T-shirt and tug it on as I descend the steps. “Morning,” I greet my pack mates as they’re climbing the steps. When I pass the kitchen, I glance over, looking for Peter, but he’s not in there. Usually, he makes breakfast.
Is Blade up yet? I open the door.
Runa stomps her feet on the mat before entering.
“Good morning,” she says as she picks up the big basket she was carrying. I offer to help, but she shakes her head. “Get out of the way.”
Fine. I step aside.
She walks into the kitchen, followed by the pair of females. One continues up the stairs, the other, a redheaded wolf not a day past eighteen, drops a bundle of wood near the fireplace.
I join her. She stares at the fire, scratching her head. “There’s no wood in there, but the fire burns.”
Oh, that’s right. They’re used to fire burning wood. “The wood is not necessary.”
She looks over at me, eyes wide and inquisitive.
Wolves are curious creatures, and since the wars isolated this pack, their young wolves never had an opportunity to interact with ours.
Or to understand the way I manage fire. I continue, “Elemental fire energy recycles itself. It’s independent of the wood. It needs nothing to burn.”
She frowns. “But Soren only controls the water that’s already available in our seas or rivers.”
“That’s by choice.”
“Is he bothering you?” Runa hollers from the kitchen.
I roll my eyes, and the young wolf giggles.
“Excuse me,” I say, then make my way to the kitchen, where Runa is arranging eggs from the basket onto the counter. Once that’s done, she puts the basket away and then washes her hands. She seems to be preparing to cook breakfast. I lean against the doorjamb.
“Peter, my Regulator, usually makes breakfast for us,” I say.
Runa removes her coat and tosses it to me. “Hang it by the door, would you?”
Fine. I walk over and do as asked, trying and failing not to breathe in her scent from the coat.
Now that I’ve scented it twice, I can differentiate it from other omega scents. Runa smells like a vanilla flower I might’ve crushed under my paw as I climbed the highest mountain top to stand there victoriously while the light of the full moon warms my fur.
It’s a pleasant scent, to be sure. Too pleasant for me.
I return to stand by the door while she occupies the kitchen.
She grabs pots and pans.
“Do you have any coffee?” I ask.
“Yeah.” Runa taps something on the counter I can’t see from this angle. “Right here.”
I assume it’s a coffeemaker.
“Could you start a pot of coffee?” I ask.
She cracks an egg. “What’s wrong with your hands?”
“Nothing.”
“Then get in here and make it yourself.”
I stare.
She looks up. “I’m busy.”
“I’ll wait till you’re done. What are you all doing here anyway?” I ask.
“Feeding you.”
“Peter will make breakfast. Besides, Blade and I are going hunting later.”
Runa pauses as she cracks the eggs. “My father okayed that?”
I smile. “I don’t need his permission to hunt.”
“You do on his territory.”
“No, I don’t. It’s the fire moon month, remember?”
Runa snaps her fingers. “That’s why you came now. Because you get privileges. That’s smart and cunning of you, wolf.”
“I appreciate the praise,” I deadpan.
She fries the eggs, and the aroma makes my stomach rumble.
“Are you seriously going to be so stubborn and not have coffee before I finish up here?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“You sure? Because if you ask nicely”—she throws my words from earlier back at me—“I could make you a fine dark roast with our new press system that we use when we run out of electricity during the storms. Which, by the way, might be here in a day or two.”
“I didn’t sense an incoming storm.” I can detect dangerous changes in the weather. Most animals can.
“That’s because Soren is masking it. He doesn’t want everyone to panic.”
“Should they?”
Runa shrugs. “I’m sure my brother will handle it.”
I’m not. Soren hasn’t carried water for more than a few years since becoming an elemental.
“We’re off to check the baths,” the young redhead says, then leaves through the back with the other female who came down the stairs.
Runa serves the eggs on a plate. “Come and eat while it’s hot.”
Saliva pools in my mouth.
She throws bacon on top of the eggs and lifts an eyebrow. “I’ll eat it if you won’t.”
A growl rips out of me at the thought of someone else eating the food she made for me. I’m part animal, and she’s teasing me with food. A male wolf is a simple creature.
I sit across from her and pick up a piece of bacon. “I need coffee, or I’ll bite someone. Fair warning.” I crunch the bacon. Yum.
Runa reaches up for the coffee. Her thick white sweater rides up over her faded blue jeans, revealing her skin.
I look away. “Where is your sister?” I bark.
Runa turns, coffee bag in her hand. “She’s in her room.”
“Sleeping?”
Runa shakes her head. “No, she’s mending her wedding dress and dreaming about you.”
The fucking sass, I swear. I crunch my bacon so I don’t bite her.
Runa laughs. “I thought that was a good one.”
I scoop up eggs. “You stayed up late last night. How come you’re not sleeping?”
“I lost a bet. Morning chores for me.”
An awkward silence descends. I regret asking, as it brings up the conversation we had before I knew who she was or she knew me.
Runa dangles the coffee in front of me. My gaze catches the red burn at the top of her hand. I imagine it will heal by tomorrow.
“Does your hand hurt?” I ask. My eggs taste good. They’re fluffy.
“No.”
“Thank you for stepping in the way you did. That was very brave of you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You think you could help me out again and fix the coffee?” I could do it myself, but sharing space with her is difficult already. I’m not going to invade her over there, across the counter.
“At this point, you’ll have to beg.”
“You want me on my knees?” She ought to have put glue in this food to seal my lips shut. “Don’t answer that.” I shove eggs into my mouth and chew.
Runa opens the bag of coffee and offers me a whiff. “Smell it.”
“My nose works fine from here.”
“You’re a killjoy, Ashling.”
Did she just give me a pet name? “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me that.”
“I mean no offense.”
“If I accept it as not offensive, then it’s a term of endearment I’m allowing you to use.”
“Then get offended.”
“If I am offended, then I have to discipline you.” I turn on the barstool and slap my thigh because there’s only one way an alpha disciplines a naughty omega, and she knows what it is. Over the knee.
Runa’s mouth opens, and her blue eyes widen.
“Do you understand now?” I ask.
Speechless, she nods. Not so sassy anymore, are we? Mmhm.
“Morning.” Blade walks into the kitchen, wearing only his jeans.
Runa gives him an appreciative once-over. “Hey there.”
Hey there, I mock her voice in my head.
Blade turns up his nose. “No coffee?”
Runa smiles. “Ask your grumpy friend over there.”
“I’m not grumpy.”
Two pairs of eyes stare at me.
“Okay, fine, I brood a little, but with good reason. Peter must not be up yet, and Runa won’t make coffee for me.”
Blade grabs the bag and sniffs. “Divine. Is it Lalique’s?”
“You bet your claws it is.”
“How do you know what kind of coffee it is?” I ask him.
“Because I’m cultured.”
Runa laughs because it implies that I’m not. “Just give me anything.”
Blade fixes himself a cup, walks by, and slaps my back. “See you later.”
“Hey, get back here and fix me one,” I shout after him, but he’s gone, laughter following him out.
Runa and I are alone. Again.
Giggling, she dangles the coffee bag in front of me.
Fine. I snatch the bag. Runa washes the press, then provides the cup and hot water. “Sugar?”
I shake my head and do whatever Blake did because I’ve never used this press thing before. “I have another request,” I tell her.
“Okay.”
“Don’t play with fire.” I pour hot water over the grinds and press down on the filter.
“I wasn’t trying to.”
“Either way, my fire feels stroked and played with, because if you’re asking me to beg, it means I’d be on my knees, little wolf.” I lower my voice until I’m certain she’s the only one who can hear me. “And if I get on my knees, it won’t be because I’m begging.”
Red colors her cheeks, and her lips part slightly so she can inhale a tiny breath, and then her tongue darts out to lick her lips. “Yes, Alpha.”
“Good girl.”
She bites her lip.
A scream breaks the moment. We rush toward the sound.