The Alpha's Flame

Six

The wolf lunged, and that’s when I moved. My hand slipped to my boot, fingers closing around the slim silver blade I had hidden there; in one motion, I whipped it free and drove it hard into Sylah’s hind leg as she soared toward me.

She hit the ground with a heavy thud, a howl ripping from her throat as her form flickered between wolf and human, her leg twitching violently under the sting of wolfsbane.

Zara’s scream tore through the clearing, sharp and furious. “You b***h! You used wolfsbane on her?!”

Duh. Did she really think I was stupid enough to show up empty-handed? I knew they wouldn’t fight fair, so I brought my own insurance. Illegal, of course, but rules and laws were just words to people like them; they broke them whenever it suited them.

“She’s still breathing,” I said, forcing my voice steady as I backed away. My ribs screamed with every breath, but I stood tall. “You never planned a fair fight, did you?”

Derek was the first to react. He grabbed my shoulder and slammed me to the dirt, my ribs exploding with fresh pain as his boot pressed into my back. I grit my teeth, pushed him off with a burst of strength, and staggered upright. Arnou came at me next, his bulk a shadow that blotted out the moon. I ducked, barely avoiding the full brunt of his strike; his fist skimmed my shoulder, but I had already snatched a broken plank from the crates behind me. I swung hard.

The crack echoed as the wood slammed into his arm. Arnou let out a pained roar, stumbling back, shock flashing across his features. For just a heartbeat, the others faltered, stunned that an omega girl had managed to land a blow. And that second was enough.

My hand slipped into my coat pocket, closing around a shard no one else knew I carried. I twisted it sharply.

A shriek split the night.

The sonic crystal wailed, its pitch slicing through the air like a banshee’s cry. The sound was high, sharp, unbearable; wolves dropped to their knees, clutching their ears, howling in pain as the frequency clawed at their skulls. It didn’t touch me though—one of the perks of being half-human, I guess.

Zara fell with the rest, swaying and disoriented, blood streaking at the edge of her ear. For the first time, the gleam of power in her eyes cracked, replaced by fear. I staggered forward, pain flaring in my side, and drove my fist across her jaw. She crumpled, limp as the others writhed.

“HEY!”

A voice rang out from the treeline. A guard.

We all froze. No one was supposed to be wandering after lights-out.

I didn’t wait. My legs moved before my brain caught up, carrying me through the trees. My ribs ached, my face burned, and my hands were still sticky with sweat and blood, but I didn’t stop running until the pack grounds spread below me. At the ridge near the omega houses, I finally collapsed to my knees, chest heaving.

Then a huge grin broke out.

✦ ✦ ✦

The sun had barely risen, but I had been awake long before the first pale light touched the trees. Omegas rise with the wind; we don’t wait for dawn. My hands worked in rhythm as I scrubbed wooden trays behind the packhouse, ribs aching with every motion. I didn’t wince, especially with people watching.

The quiet didn’t last.

“Ren!”

I turned, water dripping from my fingers. Mira stood at the edge of the courtyard, her eyes locked on the bruise along my jaw, her lips trembling.

“You… went?”

I kept scrubbing, forcing casual into my voice. “Yeah. Couldn’t let them smash your face again. I kind of like it.”

She crouched beside me, voice breaking. “Ren, they could have killed you.”

“They didn’t.” I shrugged, ribs protesting the movement. “Besides, I wasn’t unprepared.”

Her voice softened. “Did Freya see you?”

I scoffed. “Slipped out before she woke. She’ll just assume I tripped.”

Mira didn’t laugh. She never did when it came to danger. She only looked at me like I was fragile glass, like I’d break the second she blinked.

“I’m okay,” I muttered, though the words felt thin. “Sore. But okay.”

Before she could argue, the courtyard erupted with the thunder of small feet. A cluster of children—omega-born, mostly younger wolves—raced toward us.

“Ren! Ren!”

They crashed against my legs in a heap of laughter and squeals, tugging at my sleeves.

“Tell us a story! Tell us about when you—”

“Later,” I said, ruffling their hair. “I’ve got chores first.”

They groaned in unison.

“Swear on my last piece of bread,” I added, and their giggles scattered like birds.

I used to hate mornings like this—cold water, stiff bones, endless chores—but the kids made them bearable. They looked at me like I was something more than bruises and busted lips, more than a half-breed. With them, I wasn’t less. I mattered.

Mira and I headed toward the packhouse, waving to a few familiar faces from the omega quarters. Whispers drifted around us like smoke.

“Did you hear?” a girl hissed.

“No, what?”

“Zara and her minions were found behind the training field last night. All bruised. Looked like they got mauled.”

“By who?”

“They won’t say. Pretending it never happened. Do you think their parents will find out?”

I bit back my grin. Mira glanced at me, half-exasperated, half-impressed, and I only shrugged. Of course Zara and her crew would never confess—they couldn’t admit they’d been taken down by a wolf-less omega girl with a dull blade, a sliver of wolfsbane, and too much rage.

We turned toward the eastern fence when the clang split the air.

All of us froze.

The emergency bell. It only rang for war… or worse. Mira’s eyes flew to mine. Laughter died, chores dropped, even warriors stilled.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

Three strikes.

That wasn’t protocol. That was panic. Blood rushed in my ears and my ribs still ached from the fight, but adrenaline cut through the pain. Whatever this was, it wasn’t just another border scuffle.

Mira’s hand closed tight around my arm, and together we moved toward the packhouse with the others. I didn’t know what we would find when we got there, but one thing was certain: It couldn’t be good.