Flames and Fates

My eyes snap open. A biting, damp chill attacks my exposed skin. The dungeon is a nightmare of rough, jagged stone and rusted iron. The floor is slick with moss and dark grime. Freezing droplets of water fall from an unseen ceiling, splashing against my dirt-streaked cheek. I push myself up from the hard, unforgiving ground. My muscles scream in protest, battered and bruised from the brutal fight in the forest. I am sitting in an underground holding cell. Thick iron bars loom in the dim light, casting long, cage-like shadows across the small stone room. I pull my knees to my chest, shivering as the freezing underground air bites into my flesh. The rough stone scrapes against my bare legs.

I look down. I am wearing nothing but a thick, dark coat. My original clothes were shredded beyond repair during the ambush. The heavy fabric of the coat swallows my frame. It smells of crushed pine, winter frost, and dark, suffocating magic. It belongs to Kieran Corvus, the ruthless Alpha King, without a doubt. The scent alone makes my stomach churn. The horrific memories of the forest crash into my waking mind with brutal, unrelenting force. The terrifying ambush in the dark woods. The heavy, suffocating weight of Garret pressing down on me. The attempted assault that almost broke me. The sickening, wet sound of Garret’s chest cracking open under my desperate strike. The wet heat of his beating heart resting in my blood-soaked palm. I stare at my hands now, expecting to see them stained crimson. They are clean, but the ghost of his blood lingers on my skin.

I drop my face into my hands, fighting the bile rising in my throat. I need to ground myself. I need the comforting, fierce presence of my inner wolf. I reach inward, searching for her familiar warmth.

*Ivory?* I call out in the dark space of my mind.

Nothing. The silence inside my mind is terrifying. She does not pace. She does not whimper. She does not answer my call. She is just gone, leaving a gaping, hollow void in my spirit. The emptiness is unnatural. I am packless. I carry the fresh, bleeding, agonizing wounds of Darius rejecting me in front of our pack, my chest physically aching where our bond used to reside. And now, I am locked in a freezing cage on death row. Panic seizes my lungs, tightening like a vice. I need to run. I need to escape before the Alpha King decides to make an example out of me. He knows I have no one to protect me. He knows I am a rogue now. There are horrifying rumors about Kieran Corvus. He once slaughtered a neighboring pack just because a single wolf crossed his borders. He will not hesitate to kill a packless stray like me. He will delight in it.

Heavy, echoing footsteps ring out down the stone corridor. The sound bounces off the damp walls, growing louder and more menacing with every passing second. A tall, imposing figure stops on the other side of the iron bars. Braddock. The dark-haired man from the forest who helped corner me.

His eyes lock onto mine, dripping with pure, unmasked hatred. A heavy ring of iron keys jingles in his tight grip. He shoves a rusted key into the lock. The metal groans in protest. He kicks the heavy iron door open and storms inside, bringing the scent of rage with him.

"Get up," he snarls, his voice low and lethal.

Before I can even process the command, his massive hand grabs the thick lapels of Kieran's coat. He drags me to my feet, his tight grip cutting off my air. He shoves me backward with brutal force. My spine slams against the freezing stone wall. Bone-rattling pain shoots up my back, stealing the breath from my lungs. I gasp, my hands flying up to claw at his thick wrists.

"You killed Garret," Braddock spits, his face inches from mine. His jaw clenches tight enough to crack his teeth. The bloodlust rolling off his body is suffocating. "You are going to pay for that, you rogue trash."

He raises his free fist, pulling his thick, muscular arm back to deliver a crushing blow to my face. I squeeze my eyes shut and brace for the sickening impact.

A sharp, guttural groan rips through the cell.

The blow never lands. Braddock's crushing grip vanishes from my collar. I open my eyes and gasp. Braddock collapses to the stone floor like a puppet with cut strings. He drops hard to his knees, his hands clutching the sides of his head. He thrashes against the ground, his body writhing in agonizing, unseen pain. His desperate groans echo off the dungeon walls. His fingers claw at his own scalp.

I press my back flat against the wall, my heart hammering against my ribs. I stare at the massive wolf writhing at my feet. What is happening to him? Is he dying? If he dies right here in my cell, they will blame me. They will add another murder to my name. My eyes dart to the open cell door. The dark corridor is empty. I just need to step over his thrashing body. I just need to run. My mind races, drawing up a frantic, desperate escape plan. Run down the hall, find the armory, steal a blade, look for a rear exit, stick to the shadows—

*Now, now. What fascinating ideas you have here.*

A sensual, chilling calm voice echoes direct inside my skull.

I freeze. Every muscle in my body locks up tight. The voice is smooth, rich, and dripping with dark amusement. It wraps around my racing thoughts like thick, suffocating velvet.

Kieran Corvus.

He is inside my head.

"Get out of my head!" I spit aloud, my voice cracking and echoing in the damp cell. I press the heels of my hands against my temples, trying to push his invasive presence out of my mind.

A hearty, dark chuckle vibrates through my brain, shaking the very foundation of my consciousness. The sound is terrifying.

*Oh, I think you already know the answer to how and why I am here, little wolf,* Kieran murmurs into my frantic thoughts. *I am here because I can. I am here because I knew you would run.*

"Your wolf gave me no choice in the forest," I whisper to the empty room, my chest heaving. "He was going to ruin me."

*Be a good girl and follow Braddock,* the Alpha King commands, ignoring my defense with ease. *I still have to punish you for killing one of my wolves.*

*Where is Ivory?* I demand in my mind, pushing back against his overwhelming psychic weight. *What did you do to her?*

*Ah, that one is feisty. I forced her to sleep. She will wake up later... once you feel enough pain.*

He leaves my mind without another word. The sudden absence of his heavy, magical presence leaves a sinking, suffocating dread in my stomach. He suppressed my wolf. He just admitted to locking away a piece of my soul. He read every single desperate, frantic escape plan forming in my head without breaking a sweat. There is no running. There is no fighting a man who knows my next move before I even make it.

Braddock stops thrashing on the floor. He recovers his footing, his face pale and twisted into a terrified grimace. He refuses to look me in the eye. He grabs my arm rough, though his large hands still shake from the unseen torture, and hauls me out of the dungeon.

We walk down a long, winding stone corridor. The damp air grows warmer. We step through a massive iron gate and walk straight into the blinding, glaring sunlight of the courtyard. I squint, raising a trembling hand to shield my sensitive eyes from the bright morning sun.

Sturdy stone walls surround the massive, imposing space. Opulent carvings decorate the towering pillars. Statues of terrifying gargoyles and snarling wolves stand guard on every side, casting long, dark shadows across the dirt. The Onyx pack is gathered here. Hundreds of werewolves crowd the courtyard, pushing against each other to get a look at me. The moment they see me step into the light, the noise erupts.

They sneer at me. They spit at the dirt near my bare feet. They jeer and scream insults, their faces twisted with an eager thirst for my blood.

"Murderer!"

"Burn the rogue!"

"Tear her apart!"

I keep my chin high, forcing my legs to walk steady despite the tremors shaking my bones. I pull Kieran’s thick coat tighter around my exposed body, refusing to let them see my fear. My gaze drifts past the angry crowd and lands on an elevated grand throne at the far end of the courtyard.

Kieran Corvus sits upon it.

He has his long legs crossed, resting his sharp chin comfortable on his knuckles. He looks deceptive, calm, and kind. The bright sunlight catches his dark hair and striking ocean-blue eyes. To any outsider, he looks like a benevolent, fair ruler overseeing his lands. But I know firsthand he is the most heartless monster of them all. He lacks a conscience. He lacks a heart.

*Such interesting flattery,* his smooth voice slides into my mind again.

I glare at him through the screaming crowd. He revels in our secret mental connection. A slight, mocking smile touches his lips as he reads my silent, venomous curses directed at him. I hate the smug look on his handsome face. I hate the immense, unfair power he wields over my mind and body.

My eyes drift away from the throne and land on a wooden platform set up to the left of the dais. A thick wooden post stands tall in the center. Piles of dried twigs, thick branches, and dry leaves are gathered around the base. The sight steals the breath from my lungs. A stake. They are going to burn me at the stake.

Braddock drags me to the foot of the throne. He forces me to a halt.

Kieran stands up. The courtyard falls dead silent in an instant. The sheer, suffocating authority radiating from his tall, broad-shouldered frame forces the pack into terrifying submission. He looks out over his people, raising a single hand.

"Today we shall witness justice being served," Kieran announces, his deep voice booming with immense authority. It echoes off the stone gargoyles. "With the death of Garret, we shall serve justice in his name."

The crowd roars. They delight in terror. They delight in death. I am nothing but a morning spectacle for their cruel entertainment. Garret tried to assault me. Garret tried to rip my clothes off and ruin me in the dirt. He got exactly what he deserved.

I know Kieran hears that thought. His piercing blue eyes dart straight to mine. He holds my defiant gaze for a long, heavy second, his expression unreadable.

"Let her be burned alive," he decrees.

The pack erupts with approval. Their cheers deafen me.

A dark, sadistic chuckle echoes right in the center of my mind. *I will make the fire extra hot to ensure your swift death, little wolf. How is that for mercy?*

Braddock shoves me hard in the back. I stumble forward, climbing the wooden steps of the dais. He drags me to the thick wooden post. He kicks the back of my knees, forcing me to stand flush against the rough, splintered bark. He pulls a thick, coarse rope from his heavy belt. He binds my wrists tight around the back of the post. The rough fibers bite deep into my delicate skin. He drops to his knees and binds my ankles, pulling the thick knots tight enough to cut off my circulation.

I do not struggle. I do not cry out. I refuse to give the jeering crowd the satisfaction of seeing me beg for my life.

Braddock climbs down from the platform. He pulls a single sulfur match from his pocket. He strikes it against the rough stone of the dais. The tiny flame flares to life in his hand. He gives me one last look of raw contempt and tosses the burning match into the pile of dried twigs.

The fire catches in an instant. The hungry flames crackle and hiss, crawling up the dry branches with terrifying speed. Thick, suffocating grey smoke rises from the base of the platform, creeping up my bare legs and filling my nose with the bitter scent of burning wood. The intense heat blisters the skin of my calves.

The crowd cheers louder, chanting for my agonizing death. The sound of the fire eating the wood roars in my ears, drowning out their voices. I brace myself for the skin-melting end. My heart feels heavy, bleeding with the fresh, raw wounds of my past betrayal. Just yesterday, I stood in a crowded courtroom. I watched Darius, the man who was supposed to love me, look me in the eyes and reject me for my own sister. The phantom pain in my chest hurts worse than the blazing heat rising up the wooden post.

The thick smoke grows heavier, burning my lungs. I cough, gasping for fresh air. The roaring fire licks at the bottom hem of Kieran's coat.

I force my tearing eyes open, refusing to die in the dark. I look through the rising grey smoke, locking my gaze fierce with the Alpha King. I expect to see him sitting on his grand throne, laughing. I expect him to relish my painful execution.

Instead, I see his face change.

The smug, arrogant smile vanishes from his lips. It is replaced by a look of sheer, raw horror.

Before I can blink, before my smoke-filled brain can process his shifting expression, a sudden, impossible blur of motion cuts through the courtyard. The wind howls.

Kieran is standing on the flaming platform direct in front of me.

He raises his muscular arm and performs a single, aggressive sweep of his hand. A massive shockwave of dark, icy magic bursts from his palm. The roaring, lethal fire is extinguished in a heartbeat. The flames vanish into thin air, leaving nothing but charred, smoking twigs at my feet.

The courtyard falls into a stunned, breathless silence. The cheering stops dead.

Kieran stares down at me. His massive chest heaves up and down rapid, like he just sprinted across a bloody battlefield. His stormy blue eyes are blown wide with an unexpected, raw terror I never thought the feared Alpha King could possess. His large hands tremble at his sides.

"Mate," he breathes out, his deep voice barely a whisper.

I blink, staring at the terrifying ruler standing inches from my face. My throat burns fierce from the lingering smoke.

"W-What?" I stammer, coughing on the ash filling the air.

"You're my mate," he repeats, the realization crashing over him like a tidal wave. The terrifying truth settles into his wide eyes. An invisible, electric mating bond snaps into place between us, heavy and undeniable.

The rough ropes binding my wrists and ankles seem to tighten, digging deeper into my bruised flesh. I stare at the man who just ordered his men to burn me at the stake with a twisted smile. The monster who tormented my mind, suppressed my wolf, and mocked my impending death. Now, he dares to stand in front of the charred wood and claim me as his destined partner.

Furious, blinding anger bubbles up in my chest, burning hotter than the magical fire he just killed. I flash him a wicked, hateful smile.

"Then I reject you as my mate," I spit, the words laced with pure, unfiltered venom. "I would rather die than be with you—"

Before the final word leaves my tongue, the tight ropes binding my wrists and ankles vanish into thin air. I stumble forward, losing my balance.

Kieran steps close, catching me before I hit the charred wood. His movements are graceful, terrifying, calculated, and dominant. His broad frame blocks out the blinding sun, casting me in his dark shadow. He raises his hand and forces my chin up with his cold fingers, forcing me to meet his intense gaze.

His eyes, previous filled with sheer horror, now glint with a dark, consuming desire. The terror is gone, replaced by the possessive, primal instinct of an unmatched Alpha.

"You can't reject the Alpha King, little wolf," he growls soft, his thumb pressing into my jawline. "If I say you are my mate then you are my mate."

He squeezes my chin gentle, his ocean-blue eyes searing into my soul. He drops his hand and turns his broad back to me. He faces his stunned pack. Hundreds of wolves stare up at the smoking dais, their mouths hanging open in pure shock.

"There shall be no execution!" his voice booms with unquestionable command. It rolls across the silent courtyard like a crack of thunder. He points a firm finger at the massive crowd. "This woman is my mate. Anyone who dares touch or hurt her might as well be signing their death warrants."

No one moves. No one breathes. The Onyx pack stands frozen under the overwhelming weight of their Alpha's decree.

My mind reels at the sheer, impossible whiplash of my existence. I clutch the edges of his dark coat, my bare knees shaking. Just yesterday, my destined mate rejected me for my sister in front of everyone. Today, I was hunted in the forest, imprisoned in a freezing dungeon, and nearly burned to death at the stake to entertain a crowd of bloodthirsty wolves. And now, against all logic, reason, and sanity, I stand on a smoking execution platform as the claimed mate of the Alpha King.