Burn Them All

Chapter 4

Ronan Pov

The earth smelled like rain and rot.

I stood at the edge of my father’s grave, watching the pack elders shovel dirt over his coffin. Each thud of soil against wood felt like a hammer to my chest. Final. Irreversible.

Alpha Marcus Blackwood. The strongest wolf I’d ever known. Reduced to a box in the ground.

Because of them.

“The pack looks to you now, Ronan.” Elder Thomas appeared at my side, his weathered face grave. “Your father’s death must not be in vain.”

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t trust myself to speak without the rage leaking through.

“The ceremony will be tomorrow at dawn,” Thomas continued. “You’ll take the Alpha oath, and…”

“I know what’s required.”

He nodded and stepped back, giving me space to grieve. But grief was a luxury I couldn’t afford. Not when my mother was still dying. Not when the witches who killed my father were still breathing.

The last mourners filed away, leaving me alone with the fresh grave. Alone with promises I intended to keep.

“I’ll make them pay,” I said to the turned earth. “Every last one of them.”

The wind picked up, cold and bitter. Like even the elements knew what I’d lost.

-----

*Three weeks earlier*

“There has to be something.” Mom’s voice was barely a whisper, her skin pale as moonlight. “Some herb, some remedy we haven’t tried.”

I held her hand, careful not to grip too hard. She felt fragile as glass these days. “We’ve consulted every healer in the territory. Every doctor in the human cities. There’s nothing…”

“The witches.”

I went still. “No.”

“Ronan.” She squeezed my fingers with what little strength she had left. “Their magic could…”

“Their magic is the reason people die, Mom. It’s unnatural. Dangerous.”

“I’m dying anyway.”

The words hung between us like a death sentence. Because they were true. The sickness had been eating away at her for two years now. Slowly. Painfully. Every treatment we tried bought us weeks at most, never months.

“There has to be another way.”

“Then find it.” Her eyes met mine, and I saw the fear there. The desperation. “Please, Ronan. I’m not ready to leave you yet.”

I kissed her forehead, breathing in the scent of lavender and sickness. “I’ll figure something out. I promise.”

But I didn’t know how.

-----

Dad had figured it out instead.

I’d been away, consulting with a healer three territories over, when he’d made his decision, when he’d crossed into witch lands without telling anyone. Without backup.

By the time I got home, he’d already been gone for two days.

“He took four guards,” Thomas had told me, his face pale. “Said he was going to negotiate. That the witches would listen to reason if the price was right.”

I’d wanted to go after him immediately. To drag him back before he did something reckless.

But I’d been too late.

They’d sent his body back on the third day.

-----

The memory of seeing him like that still woke me at night. Dad’s throat was torn open. Claw marks across his chest. Signs of a fight he’d almost won.

Almost.

The message had been clear: *Stay out of witch territory, or share his fate.*

We’d mobilized immediately. Every able-bodied wolf in the pack had taken up arms. We’d marched to the border, ready to tear through their lands and burn every coven to the ground.

The war had lasted three weeks.

Three weeks of blood and fire and loss. We’d killed dozens of them. They’d killed dozens of us. Both sides had suffered, bled, mourned.

And in the end, we’d accomplished nothing except adding more bodies to the count.

The Witch Council had called for peace talks. My pack had been too weakened to refuse. We’d signed a ceasefire that tasted like ash in my mouth.

But ceasefires weren’t forever.

-----

“Alpha.”

I turned from the grave to find Maya, one of our best trackers, approaching. She bowed her head in respect.

“What is it?”

“Your mother is asking for you. The healers say…” She trailed off, and I saw the sympathy in her eyes. “They say it won’t be much longer.”

The rage in my chest transformed instantly to ice-cold fear.

“How long?”

“Days. Maybe a week.”

I was moving before she finished speaking, my legs carrying me toward the pack house at a run. Toward Mom’s room. Toward the woman who’d raised me alone after Dad died, who’d been both parents when he was too busy with Alpha duties.

She couldn’t die. Not now. Not like this.

I burst through her door to find her sleeping, her breathing shallow and labored. The healers had been right, she looked worse than this morning. Grayer. Thinner. More ghost than woman.

I pulled a chair to her bedside and took her hand.

“I’m here, Mom. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her eyes fluttered open. Took a moment to focus on my face. When they did, she smiled. “Ronan. My strong boy.”

“Save your energy.”

“For what?” She coughed, and I saw blood on her lips. “I’m dying, sweetheart. We both know it.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“Your father…” Another cough. “He died trying to save me. Don’t let his death be meaningless.”

“It won’t be. I’m going to make them pay for what they did.”

“No.” Her grip tightened with surprising strength. “No more revenge. No more hate. It’ll consume you.”

“They killed Dad. They’re killing you. How am I supposed to just”

“By being better than them.” Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. “By being the Alpha your pack needs. Not the one your anger wants you to be.”

I couldn’t promise that. Couldn’t lie to her, not now.

So I just held her hand and watched her slip back into sleep.

-----

The Alpha ceremony was brief.

Elder Thomas placed the ceremonial blade in my palm. I cut my hand, letting blood drip onto the earth. The old words were spoken, the old oaths taken.

And just like that, I was Alpha.

The pack howled their acceptance, their voices rising into the dawn sky. I should have felt honored. Proud. Ready.

Instead, I just felt hollow.

“What are your orders, Alpha?” Thomas asked when the ceremony ended.

“Double the border patrols. No one crosses into witch territory, and no witch crosses into ours. Anyone who violates the ceasefire answers to me personally.”

“And your mother?”

“Keep the healers with her around the clock. If anything changes, I want to know immediately.”

He nodded. “There’s one more thing. A… situation in the city.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What kind of situation?”

“Refugees. They’ve been flooding in from the outer villages. Humans fleeing the war damage. We’ve had to set up temporary housing in the lower district.”

“And?”

“And some of them aren’t human.” Thomas’s expression darkened. “We’ve had reports of witches hiding among them. Using glamours to disguise themselves.”

Every muscle in my body went taut. “You’re certain?”

“Three confirmed sightings. All fled before we could apprehend them.”

Witches. In my city. In my territory.

The rage I’d been holding back surged forward like a tidal wave.

“Find them.” My voice came out as a growl. “I want every refugee checked. Anyone using magic, anyone who smells even slightly of witch, bring them to me.”

“Alpha, if we start arresting refugees without proof…”

“I don’t care about proof.” I stepped closer, letting him see the fury in my eyes. “Those things killed my father. They’re killing my mother. If even one of them thinks they can hide in my city, they’re wrong. Find them. All of them.”

Thomas swallowed hard. “Yes, Alpha.”

He left quickly, probably to organize the search parties. I stood alone in the clearing where I’d just become Alpha, fists clenched at my sides.

Somewhere out there, witches were hiding. Thinking they were safe. Thinking I wouldn’t find them.

They were wrong.

I’d find every last one.

And when I did, they’d wish they’d stayed in their own cursed lands.

-----

I visited Mom again that evening. She was barely conscious, her breathing more rattle than breath. The healers hovered nearby, their faces grim.

“Any change?” I asked.

The head healer shook her head. “I’m sorry, Alpha. It’s just a matter of time now.”

Time. The one thing we’d run out of.

I sat beside Mom, taking her cold hand in mine. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m sorry we couldn’t save you.”

Her lips moved. I leaned closer, straining to hear.

“…mate…” she breathed. “Find your mate. They’ll… heal you…”

“Rest, Mom. Don’t try to talk.”

But her eyes opened, focused on me with sudden intensity. “Promise me. Find them. Before the hate… takes everything.”

“I promise.”

It was a lie. I’d been searching for my mate for five years with no success. The Moon Goddess had either forgotten about me or decided I didn’t deserve one.

Mom’s eyes closed. Her breathing evened out.

For now, she was still here. Still fighting.

But I knew what was coming. Knew I was about to lose her too.

And when I did, when the last person who kept me human was gone, there would be nothing left but the rage.

The witches had taken everything from me.

It was time I returned the favor.