Daughter of Ash and Flame

Episode 2

Despite the growing whispers about her speed and strength, as Ava expected, the bullying didn't stop—it evolved. Some pups stopped chasing her altogether, unwilling to face the humiliation of failure. Others, like Malric and his gang, doubled down. Their attempts were more calculated and their frustration clear each time she slipped through their fingers.

But Ava wasn't one to back down. She understood the delicate balance of pack dynamics better than most pups her age. The hierarchy wasn't just about strength—it was about perception, about who stood firm and who could be bent. Ava didn't look for fights, but when they found her, she handled them in her own way.

One crisp morning during her chores. Ava was outside the packhouse, stacking firewood to prepare for the colder months. The logs were heavy, their rough edges scraping against her hands, but she carried them with ease. She had just placed another stack by the wall when she sensed them approaching.

Three of them—Malric in the lead, flanked by two of his cronies. She didn't turn around, but she felt the weight of their stares and the sharpness of their intent.

"Hey, runt," Malric called, his voice carrying that familiar mocking edge. "I keep hearing you're stronger than you look. Why don't you show us?"

Ava straightened, brushing her hands on her jacket before turning to face them. Her eyes flicked between the three boys but she didn't grace them with a response.

Malric smirked. "What's the matter? Can't talk and lift logs at the same time?"

The two boys beside him laughed, but Ava didn't flinch. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, studying them.

"What do you want, Malric?" she asked quietly, her voice calm but firm.

"To see if you're as strong as they say," he said, stepping closer. He grabbed one log from the stack, tossing it between his hands as if testing its weight. "Or if it's just talk."

Ava's gaze briefly flickered to the log, then back to him. "I don't need to prove anything to you."

Malric's smirk faltered for a moment, but he recovered quickly. "Maybe not," he said, dropping the log with a heavy thud. "But I think you do to the pack. What wolf can't even stand up for herself?"

The air grew heavier, tension crackling like a distant storm. Ava's heart beat steadily in her chest, but she could feel their excitement, their need to provoke her into a reaction.

"You're trying too hard," she said simply.

Malric blinked. "What?"

"Too hard to make me angry," Ava continued, her tone as calm as ever. "It's not going to work."

Malric stepped forward. "You think you're so smart, don't you?" he sneered. "Just because you can run doesn't mean you're better than us."

"Who said I was better?" Ava asked, her voice low and even as she stepped forward, her eyes locking onto his. "I'm just not afraid of you."

His grin had turned sharp, his eyes glinting with something darker. "Alright, runt. If you're so tough, let's see how fast you really are."

He stepped aside, gesturing to the stack of firewood. "Carry that entire pile to the other side of the yard before we catch you. If you can do it, we'll leave you alone. If not..." He trailed off, the implication clear.

Ava studied him for a moment, then looked at the pile of logs she had just finished stacking. It was a lot, even for her, but she wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of seeing her hesitate.

"Fine," she said, stepping forward. "But if I win, you leave me alone. For good."

Malric chuckled and the lunged. "Deal."

Ava had expected as much and was ready. She ducked low, the log still in her arms, and darted to the side. Her feet moved with practiced precision, weaving between the boys as they stumbled over themselves, trying to catch her. The weight of the log barely slowed her down.

"Stop her!" Malric shouted, his voice tinged with frustration.

One of the boys lunged, but Ava twisted sharply, using the momentum to swing the log into his chest. He stumbled back with a gasp, falling to the ground.

She didn't stop.

Log after log, Ava moved faster than they could track, her speed and strength leaving them winded and furious. By the time she placed the last log on the far side of the yard, all three boys were panting, their faces red with exertion.

Ava stood tall, her mismatched eyes steady as she looked at them. "Done."

Malric's glare burned into Ava as she stood by the firewood not only moved but also neatly stacked, her breathing steady despite the exertion. "This isn't over," he growled. His cronies hovered behind him, their faces flushed with frustration and embarrassment.

"You made a deal," Ava said calmly. "Keep it."

Malric's fists clenched at his sides, his nails biting into his palms. "I don't take orders from you, runt."

Ava tilted her head slightly. "It's not an order. It's a suggestion, unless you want to look stupid."

Everything about her upset Marlic and right now his anger flared hotter than ever. His pride had been bruised—not just by her speed, but by the ease with which she had bested them. The other pups were already whispering, their curiosity and amusement evident as they peeked out from the packhouse windows. He couldn't let it stand.

His gaze shifted to the woodpile, and then to the ax resting nearby, its blade glinting in the sun. Without a word, he stalked over to it, grabbing the handle with a firm grip. His friends exchanged nervous glances, but neither of them moved to stop him.

"You always think you're so clever." Malric sneered, hefting the ax as if testing its weight. "Fast and strong, but that doesn't make you one of us."

Ava's muscles tensed. Her sense of danger prickled sharply, a warning rising like a cold gust of wind in her chest. She watched Malric carefully, noting the way his grip on the ax tightened, his knuckles white against the wood.

"Malric," one of his friends muttered, shifting uncomfortably. "Come on, man. It's just a game."

"Shut up," Malric snapped, his focus locked on Ava.

She didn't flinch. Instead, she took a slow step back, her hands loose at her sides. Her heart beat steadily, her instincts screaming at her to be ready—not to run, but to act.

Malric swung the ax lazily, the blade slicing the air with a sharp whoosh. "Maybe I'll split that wood myself," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "Show everyone what real strength looks like."

Ava didn't respond. Instead, she watched him intently, tracking his movements with unsettling precision. Her danger sense surged like a tidal wave.

"Stop!" she shouted, her voice slicing through the air, but she was too late.

Malric shifted his stance, raising the ax higher than necessary in an exaggerated show of strength. The woodpile wasn't secure, and as his foot pressed against a loose log, it shifted beneath him. Startled, Malric hesitated—but the damage was already done. His weight tipped forward as the log rolled beneath his foot. The ax slipped from his hands, its blade spinning dangerously as he lost his balance.

Ava moved before anyone else could react. She darted forward with blinding speed, her hand lashing out to knock the ax aside before it could hit him. It struck the ground with a dull thud, embedding itself harmlessly in the dirt inches from Malric's leg.

For a brief moment, the clearing was silent, the weight of what had almost happened hanging in the air.

Ava straightened, brushing dirt from her jacket as she looked down at Malric. "You should be more careful," she said quietly.

Instead of gratitude, Malric's face twisted with rage. His chest heaved as he climbed to his feet, brushing off his friends' attempts to help him.

"You think this makes you better than me?" he spat, his voice trembling with anger. "You think saving me means anything?"

Ava met his glare with unflinching calm. "I didn't save you to prove anything," she said simply. "I saved you because you clearly can't make good decisions."

"This isn't over," he growled, his voice low and venomous.

Ava studied him. "It is if you let it be," she replied.

Malric didn't respond. He shoved past her, his friends trailing behind him as he stalked back toward the packhouse. The whispers followed him, growing louder now that the other pups had seen everything.

Ava turned back to the woodpile, her movements measured as she began rearranging the logs. Her hands trembled slightly, but she steadied them with a deep breath. She knew Malric wouldn't forget this—and she knew he wasn't the type to forgive.

Still, she had no regrets. No matter how hard Malric tried to push her down, Ava knew one thing for certain: he couldn't catch her. Not in strength, not in speed, and certainly not in intelligence.