Alpha of Smoke

Ashes to Ashes

*Isabella*

October, 1885

Acrid smoke singes my nostrils. My lids heavy, I blink, trying to open my eyes. Even as slits, they burn from the gray cloud all around me. Faint sizzling crackles in my ears. The fire is close, so near I can feel the lick of flames devouring the ends of my fur.

The breeze carries shouts, screams, and howls of both the terrorized and the taunting variety. I struggle not only to regain my vision, but to remember what happened before the incessant pain that radiates up my left side sent me careening into darkness.

It all comes flying back to me with a force strong enough to topple the most formidable warrior. Shock from the memories so vividly displayed in my mind has my eyes flying open wide. I scan through the wall of smoke, looking for any signs of hope. Is anyone else alive?

The wind ripples what’s left of the prairie grass on the edge of the forest, ash and fury whipping around the destruction before me. Bare feet flash by, followed by bloodied paws. I manage to lean up on one hand, mustering the strength to stand for only a moment. It is my doubt that sends me back to the ground, not weakness, although I suppose that’s weakness, too—weakness of a different sort. If I get up, won’t they just knock me down again? A burning ache festers up the length of me, and I know it’s not just from where I hit the ground. My left shoulder burns from the bite that sent me sailing. I can’t turn my head in my wolf form to see the damage, but the raw pain, the scent of blood, tell me it’s bad.

Beside me, a large tree trunk burns. The heat is scorching. Wolves that fight with fire. My pa had warned me of them, but he’s not here now. No one is here to save me or the others in my party. If I’m going to live, I’ll have to get up. I’ll have to fight—or find a way to sneak off into the forest. Thick smoke continues to billow around me. If I can get to my feet, maybe I can slip into the woods, make it back to safety.

That would mean leaving the others behind.

From my spot on the ground, I peer through the wreaths of gray. How many of them are still alive? In the distance, I see a small female wolf with blonde fur running for her life. A large male, dark, dirty, and drooling, runs behind her. Her yelps sound almost like human screams as he catches her, leaping onto her back, sending her into the forest floor with one crushing blow. Even through the crackle of the fires, I hear the snap of her bones. When he is sure she is dead, he steps away, chin dripping crimson. She does not get up.

I swallow hard and conjure the image of a face, the only one who can give me the strength to do what I must. I cannot abandon the others. I cannot defeat this throng either, but I must try.

The fire that burns around me is not as hot as the one flickering in my soul. Paws to the ground, I push up, my front leg wavering slightly in a pile of blood soaked leaves, but I catch myself and rise to my full height.

The bloody male who killed the other she-wolf grins, baring his fangs, and turns in my direction. I hold his gaze, knowing there are others nearby that are bigger than he. They will rip my throat out before I can make a sound.

Through the mind-link, I shout at him, at all of them, in my mate’s native language, “I am Unega Galvlo, Luna of the Shaconage pack. Your warriors kill without cause, a crime against the Moon Goddess herself, and now I will crush your bones and turn them to dust!”

The warriors around me begin to circle, fangs gleaming in the flickering light of the flames. Snarling, they close in. Once the black wolf with the bloody face is within ten paces, I leap at him, sinking my teeth into his throat. He shrieks and tries to break free of me, but his strength is no match for my fury. As I snap through muscle and bone, my mouth fills with the taste of iron.

The weight of a large body slamming into my shattered left side registers only a second before agony rocks me, sending me tumbling to my right. My four paws instinctively shoot out, claws elongated, as I attempt to shove the warrior off me, but he is far stronger than I. Another force hits me from the other side, and then teeth sink into my exposed haunch. Even my determination isn’t enough to shake the muscled bodies from my broken bones.

Still, I fight.

I fight because I am a warrior. I am a Luna. I am the wife of the Alpha of the Shaconage pack. I fight for honor, for my people, for my family, for the Moon Goddess herself.

Even as I feel the pain of dozens of teeth sinking into my body, I look out through the smoke, imagining his face. I see him so vividly, his glowing sapphire blue eyes, his black fur like the void between the stars, his muscular physique, strong and powerful, larger than any wolf I’ve ever seen.

For a moment, I believe I see him there, in the distance, between the trees, hidden by a veil of smoke. I want to believe it’s him, my mate, that he has found me and is here to save me.

But the pain is overwhelming. My mouth drops open in a silent scream, and my eyes close. Even in this dark, hollow place behind my eyelids where I tried to hide before, I still see his face. The pain begins to dull as I slip into the inky blackness, allowing myself the comfort of letting go. It will all be over soon. I will leave him behind, but I know, we will meet again, in the land of a thousand stars, in a field of grass made golden by the light of the full moon.

In a place where no one will ever come between us again, where the Moon Goddess shows mercy and love to all of Her people, that’s where we will run free—side by side until the end of time.

My last breath is shallow, stuttering, a vibration I barely hear.

And then… I am gone.