Back home, the Pine pack lived in treetops in the heart of Maine — massive wooden platforms woven into the ancient pines, connected by rope bridges and hanging lanterns. Our lives were balanced in the canopy, suspended between earth and sky. And for a long time, I believed we were untouchable.
I was ten when the vibrations started — subtle, rhythmic tremors underfoot. I thought it was the wind at first. But then came the howls.
My mother shifted in front of me without a word, her rage sharper than her claws as she dove from the platform to meet the enemy. My father followed, his massive gray form streaking down like a falling star.
I raced to the edge of our platform, heart pounding, too small to fight, but too scared to turn away. Humans. Arrived on metal contraptions and could shoot fire. The explosions lit up the night sky.
My parents fought like the trees themselves had come alive, my mother circling wide, my father anchoring her center. They moved in rhythm like the dance of wolves that had always belonged to each other. I watched my father fall. I heard my mother’s last snarl.
When I climbed down, the air reeked of blood and pine. I buried them at the roots of the oldest tree, as is tradition.
That was the last time I let anyone close.
The Pine pack offered me little in the way of family. The pack fought the humans off, but we had to relocate. I couldn’t look at the pine trees without seeing their blood. I couldn’t listen to the northern winds without hearing theirfinal howls.
So I left.
After my first Mating Trial, I followed the Aurora pack home. Cold, disciplined, distant, exactly how I felt after my parents died. But even after all these years, I still carry the ways of the old forest. When everything burns down, only what’s rooted survives.
“After my parents died,” I say quietly, returning to the moment, “I didn’t have anyone. You’re lucky to have each other.”
He looks up at me, nods solemnly before changing the subject, “What about you, Mr. Alpha man?” Roman asks, breaking me out of my thoughts. Another wolf that talks to me normally and not with fear. It must run in the family.
“What about me?”
“Any young females catch your eye?”
My jaw tightens. “My eyes are one thing. My heart is another.”
Roman grins. “Oh, aren’t you a romantic.”
Honi slaps me on the shoulder, “Thorn’s always held out for the real deal. No flings. No claiming for convenience.”
“Here’s hoping this is his season,” Roman states, strangely sincere. Even though Roman is younger than I was when tragedy struck, I can see the cloud of loss behind his eyes. If there’s one thing that bonds people, it’s losing the one they love. He’s formed an irreplaceable bond with his sister, and I’d hate to be the one who tears them apart.
“Here’s hoping,” I echo, staring at the line of trees bending to the wind.
Chapter 12
EMBER
The unruly butterflies in my stomach wake me way before the sun sets. Their wings flutter like a storm beneath my ribs, refusing to be quiet. Roman’s bed is empty. Typical. He’s probably off charming the cooks, or sneaking into restricted wings of the castle. That boy has no fear.
I, on the other hand, am nothing but nerves.
After the Scent trial last night, I am raw, wired, and barely functioning on a few hours of sleep. If a simple inhale from a stranger can unravel me like that, what in gods’ name is Touch going to do to me?
I slip out through the secret stairwell and step into the valley, the air crisp and bright under the afternoon sun. I need to run. A wolf needs movement to process, run off the ache of restlessness.
As soon as I shift, the world tilts into clarity.
My paws hit earth in rapid succession, launching me into motion. My auburn fur catches glimmers of light as I race through open grasslands, the wind combing through my coat, rippling across my skinlike fingers.
Last night replays behind my eyes. The mystery male’s voice still echoes in my head. “It’s you.” His breath hot against my throat, his hands anchoring me, and that scent. Pine and winterberry. Solstice and safety. He held me like he’s been searching for me. Like I was already his.
I run harder. Faster.
Trying to escape the what ifs. I should’ve lost my virginity before all this. I somehow thought I was protecting myself. Now I realize how naïve I’ve been.