The Alpha King's Mate of Flames and Cinders

Chapter 2 : A Circle of Ash

*Saoirse*

I did not want to get out of bed. The previous night was my official betrothal ceremony to Conall, the arrogant future Alpha of Blackstone Pack. We were expected to unite our allied packs once we married.

It gave me no joy.

It wasn't as if I had any say in choosing my future Luna status or giving up my independence to that conceited jerk. While Conall had that tall, ripped lumberjack look going for him and had plenty of ladies drooling over his chiseled jawline and piercing ice-blue eyes, his cocky attitude ruined any appeal for me.

I dragged myself out of my comfy furs and got dressed to go hunting. Nature always helped calm my nerves and rein in my fiery temper. As I strapped on my bow and quiver of hand-carved arrows, I replayed my first conversation with Conall.

He smirked while blatantly checking me out in my fitted green gown, "So you're the little spitfire I've heard so much about." I wanted to scream. Instead, I sassed back about not tolerating arrogant men dismissing my thoughts. He just laughed loudly.

“Yes, I imagine we'll clash often, you and I, but I look forward to taming your fiery temperament once you are mine to command as Luna."

He acted like a jerk. I would never yield total control of myself, arranged marriage or not. I understood the importance of maintaining alliances and tradition, but it burned me up inside that I would never get a chance to fall in love naturally or choose my own future.

Lost in frustrated thoughts, I tracked a huge stag through the tall pines and whispering aspens near my family's territory. I moved stealthily over the leaf-strewn ground, each footstep careful and silent.

This hunt would let me blow off steam and provide extra meat for our feast that night. As the Alpha's daughter, certain duties were expected of me, no matter how much I resented my situation.

Drawing back the bowstring, I narrowed my eyes, focusing on the majestic stag grazing in the shadowy glen ahead as I aimed. My arms had just started to strain against holding the tension when an ear-piercing, terrifying shriek shattered the stillness. Startled by the screams echoing through the trees, my arrow flew wild just as the stag bolted away.

"Dang it!" I growled in frustration, shoving the bow back into my pack. I wondered what that disturbing cry had been. I crept slowly toward the sounds drifting from a nearby clearing, my hunter's instincts heightened and senses alert.

Dappled sunshine streamed onto a horrific sight among the trees. Smoldering earth and ash surrounded two tall pines burned into charcoaled husks. The choking stench of sulfur hung heavy in the air.

Shocked, I scanned for any hint of what caused this bizarre destruction. The trees didn't seem struck by lightning as they stood isolated from other undamaged parts of the woods. There was also no sign of recent campers who might have let a fire get out of control.

A prickly unease crept down my spine, which had nothing to do with the lingering smoke drifting among the underbrush.

Another shriek split overhead. It was not a bird cry I had ever heard. I peered up just in time to glimpse a dark-winged form circling the treetops before rapidly disappearing westward.

Squinting against the glare of sunlight, all I caught was a fleeting shadow with odd proportions to be any native hawk or eagle. Unease bloomed into dread. It was time to get back and tell someone.

I crashed and stumbled my way through the dense tangle of woods until I reached the edge of our territory. My pulse was racing. Bursting from the tree line gasping, I hurried to our village center, focused on finding my parents. I thought that they would believe me.

Just as I spotted our packhouse, an iron grip clamped down on my arm from behind, yanking me backward.

"Where do you think you're running off to in such a rush?" Conall asked in a silky tone. He spun me around to face him, his thick brows raised.

This was not who I wanted to deal with right now.

I wrenched my arm loose, glaring up at him. "I need to speak with my parents immediately. Something strange just happened in the eastern woods. Let me pass." I tried to step around Conall's towering frame, even as he moved to block me again. An amused smirk was back on his smug face.

"Come now, don't work yourself into a tizzy. I'm sure it's nothing." He reached out to chuck my chin like some errant child. I was not having any of that.

I batted his hand away sharply. "I know what I saw and heard. Step aside right now if you know what's good for you."

Conall glowered down at me, his ice-blue eyes flashing. I held my breath, refusing to cower as the silence between us crackled with tension. Suddenly, he threw back his head, roaring in laughter.

"If this is a taste of our future sparring matches, Maybe I won't be as bored with you as I anticipated." Still chuckling to himself, the infuriating jerk swatted me on the backside as I hastily dashed past him toward home.

"My parents will make sure you regret that move!" I yelled over my shoulder. His snickers followed me down the winding path until I finally reached our cozy packhouse. My chest was heaving. There was no way Conall would be smirking later once I shared what happened on my hunt.

I burst into the rustic great room of our packhouse, my eyes wildly searching for my parents. I prayed they were there. Luck was on my side for once. I spotted my father's tall frame and my mother's kind face over by the enormous stone hearth chatting quietly.

"Mom! Dad!" I rushed over to them, words spilling out in a jumbled, breathless mess. "There's something out there in the eastern forest. I was hunting and smelled this weird sulfur and heard these shrieks."

My mother brushed a loose copper curl off my flushed cheek, her green eyes crinkling in concern as I babbled. My father stood tall and alert, his bearded face somber beneath a mop of unruly auburn waves like mine.

"Saoirse, slow down." Dad gripped my shoulders firmly, casually indicating the eyes around us as my scattered explanation finally trailed off.

They led me to a quiet corner. I sucked in a deep breath before carefully describing the bizarre burned clearing, awful stench, and fleeting winged shadow I'd witnessed while out tracking my stag. Mom murmured comforting words while Dad asked pointed questions with a furrowed brow.

"It must have been some kind of large bird you glimpsed. It was probably stirred up by the lightning strike during yesterday's storm," Dad speculated once I finished recounting every chilling detail. "I'll send a scout team first thing tomorrow to investigate for hazards, but I wouldn't be too concerned."

My jaw dropped in disbelief. I wondered if that could really be it. Dad headed off to greet some newly returned hunters near the communal dining area with a final reassuring pat on my slumped shoulder. I whirled toward my mother, upset. Surely, she hadn't bought this casual dismissal after everything I just shared.

Mom offered a sympathetic half-smile, admiring the detailed feathered embroidery of my rumpled tunic rather than meeting my pleading stare. "You know how your father relies on cold hard facts. But it never hurts to err on the side of caution when dealing with the unknown."

Her gaze fluttered upward as she gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “Now go and get yourself ready," she instructed before gliding off to check on preparations for the night's celebratory feast.

I stood alone in stunned silence among the buzz of activity within our cozy den. My parents didn't believe me. They wrote off my bizarre encounter as girlish flights of fancy or fatigue.

Dazed, I wandered toward my bedroom, my earlier adrenaline rush evaporating into a strained knot in the pit of my stomach. I couldn't let this go so easily. Something malevolent lurked out there. I knew it deep inside my bones in a way I couldn't fully explain.

The next morning, I woke at dawn while my parents were still sleeping. I tiptoed into my dad's office and took his old Polaroid camera, making sure it was stocked on photo blanks, and left the house.

I had no trouble getting back to the burned clearing. Its location was now seared into my brain. I half expected it to have been a hallucination, but the circle of ash was still there.

Putting the lens to my face, I started taking pictures of the clearing, shaking photo after photo until the image appeared and pocketing them. I ran the camera out of film, chronicling every last little detail.

By the time I returned home, my parents were awake. My mother was cooking breakfast and serving my father, as always. Usually, I would have joined her, but this was just too important.

“Father," I said, standing next to him while he munched on some bacon, “I have something you should see."

My father raised his eyebrow at me. He didn't like being interrupted during his breakfast.

I gathered the photos out of my pocket and spread them on the table above his plate. “I found this in the woods."

My mother leaned over while she scooped some more eggs onto my father's plate. “Oh dear. Another forest fire?"

“Forest… No. See how circular it is? I think something did this. It's not any ordinary forest fire," I replied impatiently.

“It's a forest fire, Saoirse." My father looked annoyed. “You interrupted my breakfast to show me a little forest fire? It hasn't spread. From what I can tell, it's in the western woods, so it's no threat to Hunter's Glen. What are you worried about?"

I swallowed. This was going to be the hard part. “I saw a monster," I tried to press upon them.

The two blinked at me. “A monster?" my father questioned.

“Yes, a beast with talons and big, leathery wings and…" I began.

My father snorted and shoved the pictures aside. “Do you know how much trouble it is to get more of those photo blanks, Saoirse? Wasting them on a forest fire… If you were any younger, I'd tan your hide."

“No, you don't understand. I'm not telling a joke or pulling a prank. There was this big… thing… that came down from the sky. It lifted a whole stag into the air and made off with it. I–"

“Saoirse." My mother patted my hand. “Leave your father alone. If you're telling the truth, then it was just a bad dream and nothing more."

I scowled at her. “'If' I'm telling the truth?"

I stared at my parents in dismay as they dismissed my pleas again. I wondered how they could not sense the danger lurking right on our territory's doorstep.

Frustration boiled up inside until I thought I might scream. Instead, I swept the scattered photos back into my shaking hands and fled the cozy kitchen.

Once safely back in my room, I began pinning each picture to the rough wooden walls. Stepping back, the collection of images formed a chilling tableau. Shadows crept across the floor as the day waned and dread crept into my heart.

I knew with absolute certainty that this couldn't be ignored. Something had to be done. Come what may, I had to protect my pack.