9

Fire and Ashes 

Alpha Rowan's POV

Some wolves mistake arrogance for strength and I hate those ones too blinded by greed to see sense.

I call it stupidity.

The rogues are outcasts from different wolf kingdoms, those who committed crimes and were banned and excommunicated from their pack.

And suddenly one of them rose up and decided he could use the outcasts to build his own empire.

Who thinks like that?

Denver, of course—a new breed of senseless outcast.

We got a new set of wolves to join us later as we arrived at the spirit land boundary.

I always had it in mind to check out this spot but my busy schedule never allowed time for it. Even when I began having issues the week before, I should’ve thought my problems were born here, but I didn’t.

We arrived to face an army of angry rogue wolves surrounding the spirit land. Denver had smelt us coming, just like I expected.

He insisted my convoy stay outside the boundary if we needed to have a conversation, and I agreed on the condition that we would both have just one wolf with us.

Their so-called home disappointed me. The floor was pure dirt and the walls of the mud buildings were cracked and old, even though they had done a good job of plastering it a different shade of brown.

Inside Denver’s throne room, which was more like a sitting room, there was a throne-like huge chair facing the entrance, a smaller seat placed opposite it, and two couches by the side.

Denver stepped in proudly with his only wolf guard and sat on his supposed throne chair while motioning for me to sit on the smaller seat opposite him.

I smirked and sat, masking my rage. I knew he would want me to know I was in his world.

It’s a good thing I insisted Darion came in with me. One look at his face and I knew for certain our plan would work.

"Today seems like a good day. The mighty Rowan Draevyn is seated in my throne room." Denver laughed.

I took in a deep breath and swallowed, trying not to speak to keep my enraged emotions in check.

I wanted to pluck his eyes out.

"Boss," Darion whispered behind me, and I calmed down.

"You know, Denver. You are too proud for someone staying in such a miserable place and calling this hell tomb a throne room." I muttered, rubbing my temples as I spoke.

And I watch him laugh it off at first, then he stiffens, and finally snaps.

"Hell tomb you say! I’m only here because you and your stupid laws stripped my home away from me." He growled, almost standing up from his chair.

"And for a good cause obviously. You don’t know how to behave." I slurred mockingly with an amused smirk on my face, and he attacked me, taking me with him to the ground.

No one told me it would be so easy to rile him up.

"Rowan Draevyn, you have forgotten where you are!" He growled on top of me as he scratched and clawed while I blocked his every move with my claws.

On cue, Darion knew it was time. "Do it."

Two seconds later, an echo of an explosion rocked the forsaken house and everyone in it felt the tremor that followed.

"What was that?" Denver suddenly jumped off me, and his one-sided-brained wolf guard ran to check the window.

"The pack is on fire, boss," he said in dread, and before he could turn back, Darion had already knocked him out.

"What did you do?" Denver growled in dread, his fangs out as he charged at me again, but I was already on my feet and with one strike, smote the vein on his neck and he fell limp on the ground, unconscious.

I knew it wouldn’t be a tough one. These wolves had no vision in life apart from vengeance, and that would never be enough reason to win.

"Well done, boss. I didn't think he'd fall so easily." He laughed, and I glared at him just before the door opened.

We both took a fighting stance only to find out it was one of our wolves, so we relaxed.

"How was the infiltration?" I asked, checking Denver’s unconscious body out.

"Successful, boss. Most of them have escaped but the majority are dead," he responded with a bow.

"They never learn. Now I feel like I made a mistake letting them live. Bind this one, and bring him with us." I said, pointing at Denver.

"Yes, boss."

I walked out with Darion at my side, the estate collapsing to ashes behind us.

What could be more victorious than that?

"My goods should be back in the storehouse. Take the spoils and burn every other thing to ashes." I ordered Darion.

"Yes, boss." He bowed and left to carry out the order while I strolled out, ignoring the flames that surrounded me.

By nightfall, my fury was gone, leaving my mind clear. The fire, the screams, the blood, it all seemed distant how, like smoke fading into the night.

But peace didn't follow. Instead, a gnawing restlessness grew inside me, one name circling my mind like the curse that she was.

Lilith.

When I arrived back at the palace, I was about to enter the throne room when I met Talia passing, still with a worried look on her face, and I knew instantly that something wasn’t right and my chance had come.

"Is she out yet?"

"Welcome, Alpha." She bowed and nodded no.

"I sent Cole to—"

"She refused to let him in and hasn’t opened the door since morning to pick her food either, as she feels he is still there."

What the hell was wrong with this woman? Had she read the contract I had given her? If she had, she would know that she no longer owned her body and wasn’t permitted to starve it.

"I’ll go check on her." I sighed deeply, anticipating within me.

It was either excitement or anxiety. But I was Alpha Rowan. I could never be anxious. Except, I was.

I restrained my guards from following me as I began my journey to her room, each step echoing in the silence of the house. The hallway was longer and darker.

When I got to her door, I hesitated.

What would I say? Should I just pretend like that day didn’t happen? I could just focus on today? Or maybe, I could be angry she had not eaten and had not read the surrogate contract book.

I decided against all that and knocked softly.

"Lilith. It’s Rowan. Open the door."

Silence.

I knocked again, my blood pumping in my brain.

What if something had happened to her?

"Lilith. You need to open up, I’m alone."

Still nothing.

I was about to knock again when the doorknob turned and the door opened to reveal the room.

I didn’t see anyone, just the well-laid bed and the window, so I stepped in, calling her name.

"Lilith?"

It wasn’t until I stepped in fully that the door slammed shut.

Then she clung to me, sobbing, her fragile weight pressing against my chest.

For one impossible second, I almost forgot to breathe as my arms twitched, fighting the urge to shove her off.

Why did this feel too sudden, too perfect?

What if this was a trap?