The moon hung heavy and low over the Lycan stronghold, its pale light spilling across the sleeping forest below. Within the mountain fortress, where thick stone met ancient magic, Alera paced her chambers, unable to silence the storm within her.
Kael hadn't returned.
He'd left at first light with a team of scouts, chasing rumors of rogue movements near the eastern border. No one had heard from him since. And though the fortress remained calm ,no alarms, no panic, Alera's wolf twisted with unease.
She paused at the window, staring out over the vast wildlands. Cold air drifted in, scented with pine and frost. Her wolf surged toward the surface, sniffing for something anything that would ease the ache in her chest.
You shouldn't be this worried, she told herself. He's the Lycan King. He's faced worse.
But this bond this impossible bond that tied her to him pulled tighter with each passing hour. Since Kael had claimed her before the Moon, her senses had sharpened, her dreams had grown more vivid, and her instincts had begun screaming at her in ways they never had before.
Alera had never felt weak. Not even after the rejection. She'd fought, survived, endured.
But this bond?
It made her feel… exposed. Raw.
And yet, she couldn't deny it gave her strength too. In a way that was both terrifying and thrilling.
A knock came at the door.
Alera spun, pulse quickening. "Kael?"
It wasn't.
One of the warrior guards stood at the threshold, bowing his head respectfully. "My lady. The King has returned."
Relief flooded her so fast it nearly brought her to her knees.
"Where is he?"
"In the war chamber."
She didn't wait for more.
Alera bolted down the stone corridors, her bare feet slapping against cold granite, heart hammering as if it knew something more than she did. The path twisted and turned through towering halls and staircases until she reached the double doors of the war chamber.
She didn't knock.
The doors slammed open, startling the wolves within. Maps and scrolls were spread across the central table, flanked by Kael's commanders. Kael himself stood at the head, blood streaking his jaw, his armor dented and scorched.
His silver eyes locked with hers the moment she entered.
He dismissed his generals with a nod, and they exited swiftly, barely hiding their curiosity. Alera stepped into the room, the heavy doors sealing behind her with a low thud.
"You're hurt," she said, rushing forward.
"I'm fine," Kael replied gruffly, but didn't stop her as she reached for him.
Alera's fingers grazed a shallow cut along his neck, still bleeding slightly. "You shouldn't lie to your mate."
His hand caught her wrist gently, the heat of his skin grounding her. "It's nothing."
"It's something to me," she whispered.
Kael's gaze darkened, but not with anger with something far more dangerous. Emotion. "We were ambushed," he said. "A pack of rogues. But they weren't just mindless. They were coordinated. Trained."
Alera stiffened. "Trained? By who?"
"I don't know yet. But they were waiting for us. And they knew exactly where we'd be."
"Do you think someone betrayed you?"
"I'm starting to."
Silence settled between them like thick fog. Alera felt the shift in his energy the tension beneath his calm, the rage simmering beneath the surface.
Kael moved away from the table, shedding his bloodied armor piece by piece. "This wasn't just an attack. It was a message."
"A message for you?"
"No." He turned to face her. "For you."
Her breath caught. "Me?"
Kael nodded. "They said your name, Alera. They were hunting you."
Her knees buckled slightly, and she reached for the table to steady herself. "But why? I don't understand. I'm not "
"You are," Kael said, stepping closer. "You just don't know what yet."
He cupped her cheek with surprising gentleness. "You felt it when you shifted. The power. The fire."
She nodded slowly. "But I still don't know what it means."
"I think you're more than a wolf. I think you're something ancient. Something rare. Maybe even something lost."
Alera blinked at him. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying we're going to find out," Kael said. "Together."
Later that night, unable to sleep, Alera wandered the lower halls of the fortress. Her wolf prowled just beneath her skin, restless. She found herself drawn to the library, a towering room of stone and shadows lit by floating orbs of blue fire.
Thousands of tomes lined the walls histories of the Lycans, legends of the old bloodlines, journals of past kings and queens.
She began scanning titles, her fingers drifting over spines. Something pulled her toward a shelf tucked into a shadowy alcove. There, nearly hidden, she found an old, cracked book. The cover was marked with the sigil of the Moon Goddess.
She opened it.
And gasped.
Inside were drawings of wolves no, beings that looked like wolves but had flames for fur, eyes of gold, and symbols etched into their skin. Beneath the illustrations were ancient scripts, some of which she couldn't understand. But one phrase was translated.
The Flameborn.
Her heart raced.
The passage read:
"Born from fire and moonlight, the Flameborn are the balance between chaos and creation. Neither fully wolf nor human, they are rare children of prophecy. Feared. Hunted. Desired."
Alera clutched the book tightly.
Was this… her?
Suddenly, she sensed him. Kael. His presence flooded into the room before he even entered, his aura like a heatwave crashing against her senses. He stepped into the library moments later, shirtless, fresh scars on his torso glowing faintly in the torchlight.
"You found it," he said quietly.
"You knew it was here?"
Kael nodded, moving to her side. "I suspected. I've been searching for answers too."
Alera turned the page. "It says the Flameborn are hunted. That they're powerful but feared."
Kael looked down at her, his eyes filled with something like pride… and pain. "Because power like this disrupts balance. And there are those who want things to stay as they are."
"But I didn't ask for this."
"No one ever does," he said. "But maybe… the Moon chose you for a reason."
Alera looked up at him, something burning behind her eyes. "If this is true… if I really am this Flameborn… what happens now?"
Kael's voice dropped to a whisper. "Now we prepare. Because if the rogues know what you are… others will come. Not just to kill you. But to use you."
He moved closer, his hands framing her face. "But I won't let that happen. I swear it."
Their lips met before she could respond.
The kiss was nothing like their first. This was raw, desperate, born from fear and fire. Alera melted into him, letting the bond pull them tighter. She could feel his need, his protectiveness, his guilt for putting her in danger.
And she gave him her truth in return her fear, her fire, her surrender.
When they pulled apart, breathless, Kael rested his forehead against hers. "I'll train you. Teach you to wield what's inside."
"And if I lose control?"
"You won't," he said. "Because I'll be there. Every step."
Alera nodded, gripping his shirt. "Then let's start."
That night, she dreamed again.
But this time, she wasn't watching.
She was running through fire, her fur gleaming like molten gold, her paws leaving scorched earth in her wake. Above her, the Moon Goddess watched, her voice echoing in the sky.
Rise, Flameborn. For war is coming.
And when Alera woke, she wasn't afraid anymore.
She was ready.