Embers In The North
12

Reyna’s glare bore into Roth, her ire sizzling in the silence as she pulled her zip back up to her neck.

As his heartbeat thumped in the stillness, it gave her a glimpse beneath Roth’s composed exterior. He obviously knew the weight of the question he’d posed.

“What gives you the right to demand anything of me?” Her words were sharp, and she released the tension in her fists, letting the energy flow through her.

In Roth’s eyes, she saw expectation, perhaps even a hint of anticipation. He wanted the most advantageous path for him to be the undisputed Alpha of Aupheadia but he failed to understand that the decision was far more than just being Alpha and Luna.

Accepting his proposal meant binding herself to a lineage rife with animosity on two perilous fronts. It meant aligning with a House that wagged war not only on the Alpha line of Frostcall but also to the lineage of wise women.

The decision bore down on Reyna, pressing her to consider not only her own desires but also the greater good. She couldn’t help but wonder if Warmaster Decker, hailing from the Alpha line of Suncrest, might be a more suitable Alpha of the Wild Lands. It was a huge decision, and Reyna knew she didn’t possess all the information she needed.

Yet, one thing burned in her heart – she couldn’t bear the thought of her legacy falling into the hands of someone who might misuse it.

“I’m not demanding anything, Reyna, I’m simply asking you to give me an answer.” Roth’s voice was calm. “You know what you want, so tell it.”

“Before I give you an answer, there is something you must do.”

There was a beat of hesitation in Roth’s demeanour, a flicker of uncertainty. “What is it?” he asked.

“Disband your harem. Release your mistresses. Then you can ask me that again.”

A deep, discontented groan came from Roth, his reluctance painted across his face. “But what does that matter?” he grumbled.

“It’s the right thing to do.” Reyna folded her arms over her chest. “You cannot keep these females tethered to you and at the same time pursue me as mate.”

Roth’s eyes bore into hers; his expression was unreadable.

As the weight of her request sank in, she let out a sigh. “Listen. To even consider being your mate means I must be the only female bound to you. I do not intend to share my mate with anyone else and I do not care what tradition dictates. If you want me to be Luna beside you, Roth, you need to disband your harem.”

His jaw squared in contemplation, and the warmth of her fire enveloped her. He, on the other hand, seemed warmer now, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead.

“That will be a tad difficult considering that those unions were built to align several Houses with mine,” Roth said in a measured voice. “To sever my ties with them would be akin to giving up my allies to Decker and forfeiting my rights as Alpha.”

He took a step closer, the fire’s glow casting shadows across his face. The warmth of the flames heated Reyna’s skin, making her uncomfortable and she instinctively took a step back.

“What you’re saying, Roth, is that accepting you as my mate also means accepting your harem?”

“Yes,” he finally admitted. “That’s the price of being Alpha. It is part of the pact that holds our alliances in place. I cannot disband them.”

Reyna clenched her fists again. She had hoped he would be more willing to change, to adapt to her conditions. It was becoming increasingly clear that the path to a union between them was strewn with thorns.

She took a deep breath to steady herself, her eyes never leaving his. “Then, Roth of Krelon, I’m afraid we have nothing more to discuss. I won’t compromise on this matter.”

“Reyna–”

“Roth, I reject your proposal.”

The circle of fire around them seemed to mirror her rejection, gradually dimming until it died out. Roth's face fell, and his eyes held a trace of disappointment. His mouth opened, as if searching for what to say, but no words came out.

For a moment, it seemed like he might relent, but then he straightened his shoulders.

“Very well, Reyna. It appears we have reached an impasse.”

With that, he turned and began to walk away, his cloak swirling around him as he left the cave. She turned away from him, pacing in the confined space of the cave.

Reyna lingered, waiting until she was certain Roth had left before stepping out.

The cool night air kissed her face, anchoring her in the present. The reality of her decision settled over her, both comforting and sorrowful. She rejected the Alpha, a bittersweet triumph. Sweet because it meant maintaining her autonomy, bitter because of her undeniable feelings for him.

Was Roth her mate? If so, fate had played a cruel trick on her and her rejection would undoubtedly wound him. She knew she couldn’t compromise her beliefs, but it didn’t make the choice easier.

Ator materialized at her side, her large form a comforting presence. Reyna leaned into her, her fingers replaceing solace in the softness of her mane.

“I’m alright, you rascal,” she murmured, managing a weak smile. The idea of returning to the Citadel or joining the parade held little appeal. She longed for the freedom of the wind in her fur, the rush of ice beneath her paws. “Fancy a run? I’ll even give you a head start.”

Ator dashed away without warning. The sudden burst of movement sent Reyna sprawling into the snow, but she was on her feet in an instant, shifting effortlessly. With fierce determination, she raced after Ator, the exhilaration of the chase pushing her to her limits.

The world morphed into a haze of white and shadows, with the wind singing in her ears. They raced towards the west border of Egranox, the landscape a breathtaking blur. Her Shadowbeast could always outrun her, but the thrill of the pursuit was what she enjoyed.

They covered miles, the exertion washing away her exchange with Roth. It was as if with each stride, a piece fell away.

As they reached the long ridge dividing Egranox from Caderia, they slowed to a halt. The crisp scent of the borderlands filled the air, carrying an undertone of burning Ember. Ator growled, sending Reyna’s instincts on high alert.

In her wolf form, with azure eyes, Reyna’s all-seeing ability came to the fore. The vastness of the Caderia borders stretched before her, and she noticed them – the Scourgers, ominous silhouettes on the horizon.

Highthaws!

By Odin! First, Roth slipped into Egranox with those Berserkers, a matter she hadn’t gotten around to questioning him about. And now, six Highthaws, if her count was accurate, were hurtling toward Egranox with audacious speed. No sign of runners or Snow Beatles; these were heavily cloaked riders atop their Shadowbeasts, a fiery red glow emanating from the Ember they wielded to stave off the biting cold.

What was that hogwash Roth made about Decker not venturing into the North?

Ator, sensing the impending threat, began to circle, her movements deliberate and protective. Reyna understood the signal. With a swift transformation, she turned to face her loyal Shadowbeast, who had lowered herself for Reyna to mount.

But just as she was about to settle onto Ator’s back, an orb of Ember hurtled toward them, a blazing projectile of danger.

“Ator, leave!” Reyna’s command echoed through the icy air.

Yet, Ator defied the order. With a defiant howl, she conjured a swirling vortex of snow, extinguishing the fiery projectile. Reyna growled her irritation. This was a fight she couldn’t avoid.

The Scourgers closed in, forming a threatening circle. Reyna took a deep breath, readying herself to unleash her Ember ability against their fire-breathing Shadowbeasts. It all felt eerily familiar, like déjà vu.

“You’re trespassing in Egranox,” she said as Ator snarled beside her, her presence fierce and protective.

“Not necessarily,” the words came from one of the riders, who dismounted and stepped forward. As he did, his Shadowbeast vanished in the eerie glow of Ember.

At the sight of the Highthaw who led the unexpected intrusion, Reyna’s brows shot up. His flowing red hair contrasted sharply with the cold, snowy surroundings, and his aquamarine eyes bore into her impatiently. Towering and powerfully built, his thick black fur appeared to have been woven twice around his big frame, like a satchel.

There was no doubt about it; he was a Warmaster. The presence of a Highthaw Warmaster was highly suspicious.

“Odin’s benevolence,” he greeted her as he came to a halt right in front of her. His heavy gait gave way to a voice that held an unusual warmth, almost embracing her.

Reyna couldn’t tear her gaze away from those brilliant blue eyes as he gave her a once-over. His eyes beamed with a pleasant smile that was almost infectious.

“You must be the renowned Icehelm Prime… among other things,” he said.

As she stared into his beautiful blue eyes, Reyna said nothing. His voice rolled along her spine like a prophetic caress, tingling with a deep rasp that clenched her jaw tight.

“We honour the winter solstice, Prime Commander. Late as we are, we hope we can be a part of this,” he explained, casting a quick glance at Ator, who growled in response.

“You attacked me,” Reyna reminded him, her hand stroking Ator’s fur.

“My apologies. The Scourgers are fiercely protective.” He regarded Ator with fascination. “Aren’t you a sight, pristine Howler?”

Reyna watched carefully as he removed his black gloves, revealing strong and capable hands. “And who might you be, Warmaster?” she wondered.

His eyes traced the family crest adorning her left breast pocket, pausing there before meeting hers with a fervour that sent a shiver down her spine. Before Roth, she had never felt such a potent wave of desire. Yet, with the Warmaster now in front of her, those sensations surged through her with a fierce vitality that both exhilarated and unnerved her.

Warmaster Decker? It had to be him; he was the only other living descendent of an Alpha lineage.

His brows knitted. “A Moltenroar?” he asked. “I had no idea Bandos bore any progenies, let alone a daughter.”

The Moltenroar family crest held weight and history in Frostcall, a symbol of power too. His recognition of it spoke volumes—either he had been closely monitoring her family, or he had crossed paths with Bandos at some point.

“Yet I know nothing of you,” she replied with a nonchalant shrug. “I highly doubt you embarked on this arduous journey just to witness a waning solstice.”

He took a step back, adjusting the hem of his cloak and shifting his stance. “Waning or not, I finally taste the infamous cold of the north, which I believe my Fleet is eager to escape.”

“Must be mighty urgent, then, your mission here,” Reyna mused. “Given that we’re in the middle of the worst storm in decades.”

Once again, he stood in front of her, towering over her like a hulking demon. When he smiled into her eyes, the scent of Snowdrop filled her nostrils. He leaned in, almost burying his nose in her hair, and at that moment, she seized the opportunity to delve into his thoughts. But, a sudden gust of wind swept over them carrying the sound of approaching Snow Beatles, causing them both to pause and the Hightthaw withdrew, turning away.

“The raging beast of the North,” his voice rumbled, a note of recognition in his words.

The other Highthaws dismounted and rallied to their Warmaster’s side, forming a protective barrier in front of Reyna. She sought comfort in Ator’s presence, her fingers gently brushing the Shadowbeast’s mane as Bandos and the rest of the Northern Warmasters arrived.

“Decker Muninn, as I live and breathe,” Bandos exclaimed, disembarking Gierva, his Shadowbeast.

Reyna blinked, her gaze fixed on Decker from behind him. He was every bit the impressive Warmaster he was rumoured to be.

Decker wasn’t the unpleasant creature she imagined. No doubt a tyrannical Warmaster, but something about him made her heart flutter, much like Roth did.

“Warmaster of the North.” Decker tipped his head in a polite bow to Bandos. “I’m honoured to see your citadel at last.”

“If you had sent words earlier, we would have sent a Fleet to escort you,” Bandos remarked.

“Your Prime was here to greet us.” Decker turned to her and her father’s gaze settled on her with a Stoic expression.

Ator lowered just then, and Reyna seized the opportunity to mount. “I shall see you around the exalted citadel, Warmaster Decker,” she said and he gave her a gentle nod.

As Ator carried her away from the gathering, Reyna thought about Decker’s unexpected arrival. This was a chance to assess which of these two males—Roth or Decker—would truly be a suitable Alpha for the Wild Lands.

Decker’s presence left an indelible mark. His towering form, the sound of his voice, the way he carried himself—it was alluring in its own right. She couldn’t deny the attraction, just as she couldn’t deny the pull towards Roth. By the gods! That was the first time she had seen a male with a full head of fire red long locks and blue eyes.

But the awe aside, there was an undercurrent of unease. Decker’s sudden appearance was suspicious. It would seem Roth had succeeded in putting the North in the middle of their fray. She couldn’t shake the feeling that this would keel over badly for Egranox.

As the snowy landscape rushed past, Reyna’s thoughts kept circling back to Roth. Her decision to reject him was a matter of principle. She couldn’t regret it, not when he placed his harem above her. His explanations about unbreakable partnerships held hardly any weight.

Reyna’s footsteps grew deliberate as she neared the citadel. She dismounted Ator, watching her Shadowbeast fade into the night, then continued on in silence. On any other night, she might have lingered at the border, curious to witness how Bandos handled the Highthaws. But tonight was different. She sensed her father’s worry about her being outside her chambers, and the allure of her bed was almost too tempting to resist now.

Come dawn, there was a conversation with him she couldn’t postpone any more. She needed to understand why he’d kept the Alpha’s requests from her.

With Decker’s unexpected arrival in the North and the formalities tradition demanded, her father would have no choice but to welcome and host him in the citadel. She slowed her steps to a stop, realizing the futility of their journey to Reslax.

“Odin’s balls,” she cursed under her breath.

The thought of Roth and Decker, archrivals, coexisting under the same roof was hard to imagine. It was bound to be a long night.