Embers of Fate

The estate looms ahead of us, all cold stone and iron wrought into a fortress at the edge of an ancient forest. The late afternoon light struggles through the thick canopy, casting long shadows over the gravel drive. I step out of the car and my boots crunch on the gravel, the sound unnaturally loud in the silence that greets our arrival. So this is the heart of Blackthorn territory – a home that feels more like a prison or a throne room, I'm not sure which. Either way, it’s a place that seems like it wants to swallow me whole.

I square my shoulders and lift my chin, careful to keep my expression neutral. Outwardly I probably look unimpressed, maybe even bored, but inside my heart is doing a nervous little staccato. Get it together, Ember. Show no fear – not to these people, not even to Mom. If I crack now, they'll scent weakness and it'll be all over.

Beside me, my mother closes the car door gently and smooths her auburn hair, a telltale sign of her nerves. She’s trying to appear calm, but I notice the slight tremble in her hand as she adjusts the shawl around her shoulders. It’s been only three weeks since she broke the news that flipped our world upside down.

Three weeks ago, she sat me down and explained in a too-steady voice that she would be marrying Alpha Alastair of Blackthorn Pack. An alliance to protect both our packs from the rising rogue threat, she said. I was stunned. Marry a rival Alpha we barely know? But she insisted it was the only way to keep us safe after the rogues killed so many of our people last year... including Dad. I felt betrayed that she’d decided this without asking me. I yelled, I argued, but in the end, what choice did I have? Our pack couldn’t survive alone. So I agreed to go along with her plan, even as it tore me up inside.

Now here we are, standing in front of that stranger’s imposing estate, about to join his pack—about to become part of his family. Family. The word makes me want to vomit.

A cluster of wolves waits by the great oak doors of the manor. They form an intimidating welcoming committee, all dressed in formal black with subtle silver accents—likely the pack’s crest. There are six of them, men and women both, standing in two neat rows. Guards or high-ranking members, I'd guess. Each has the look of a warrior: tall, fit, disciplined, faces blank of any readable emotion.

My mother takes a deep breath and glides forward with the poise of the Alpha’s widow she is. I trail half a step behind her, keeping my spine straight even as I feel the weight of those cold stares. My wolf, usually calm under my skin, bristles at the silent challenge in the air. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

One of the wolves steps forward—a woman with iron-gray hair pulled into a severe bun, her sharp eyes raking over us. She must be around Mom’s age, maybe older, but where my mother’s face holds warmth even at rest, this woman’s features are carved from stone.

“Welcome to Blackthorn Estate,” the woman says crisply. Her voice is low and even, with not a hint of warmth. So this is what passes for hospitality in Blackthorn Pack.

Mom offers a polite smile. “Thank you. You must be Beta Sienna,” she says, extending a hand. “I'm Celeste of Ashfall Pack. And this is my daughter, Ember.”

Beta Sienna. Right—Mom mentioned that name, Alastair’s second-in-command. Interesting that the Alpha himself isn’t here to greet us. Perhaps he’s busy with last-minute preparations for the wedding.

Sienna’s eyes flick to me. I can tell she’s sizing me up, assessing whether I’m a threat or just some meek tag-along. I meet her gaze, letting a hint of challenge show. Her nostrils flare slightly—either catching my scent or taking offense. Possibly both.

“A pleasure,” Beta Sienna lies smoothly. She shakes my mother's hand but only nods stiffly at me. I keep my hands at my sides, fingers itching with the urge to do something—maybe wave sarcastically, but I restrain myself.

“Alpha Alastair is attending to some urgent matters but will join us shortly,” Sienna continues. “In the meantime, I'd be happy to show you to your rooms. You’ll want to freshen up after your journey.” The way she says “freshen up” sounds like an order rather than an offer, as if we must be presentable before meeting her Alpha.

Mom nods graciously. “Of course. That would be lovely.” She rests a gentle hand on my back, nudging me forward. I move, careful not to actually brush against the Beta as I pass.

As we follow Sienna and the other wolves inside, I catch a few more pack members lingering in the foyer, watching us. Two younger men to the side whisper while casting glances our way. A woman in an apron peeks from a doorway, maybe the kitchen, before quickly ducking out of sight. The moment my eyes meet theirs, they scatter like I burned them.

It's eerily quiet. The entry hall is all dark wood paneling and a grand staircase curving up to the second floor. Everything smells unfamiliar—a mix of pine cleanser, rich furniture polish, and underlying that, the scent of stranger wolves. The pack’s scent is embedded in the very walls. Beneath it, faint and out of place, I catch the notes of my mother’s scent and my own clinging to our clothes—intruders in this space.

A presence steps close to my side—Lyra, my best friend and self-appointed bodyguard. She insisted on coming along, refusing to let me walk into “the lion’s den” alone. Now she matches my pace behind Mom.

Lyra leans in and mutters under her breath, “I swear, if one of these wolves so much as sniffs wrong, I’m going for the throat.”

I fight down a smirk. Trust Lyra to say exactly what I’m thinking. “Down, girl,” I whisper back. “No bloodbath on day one.” Despite the snark, her fierce loyalty makes me feel a little less alone.

Up the stairs and down a long corridor, Beta Sienna leads us to a pair of heavy oak doors. She opens one to reveal a lavish suite—probably the best guest accommodations in the estate. “This will be yours,” she says to Mom. “And Ember will be just across the hall.” She gestures to a door opposite. “You’ll be close, should you need anything.”

How considerate. Keep the outsiders contained in one wing.

Mom thanks Sienna and assures her we’ll manage. Sienna gives a curt nod. “The ceremony is at dusk in the courtyard. I’ll send someone to fetch you when it’s time.” With that, she pivots and strides away, heels clicking on the hardwood until she disappears.

I exhale once she’s gone. Mom turns to me, worry creasing her brow. “Are you alright, Ember?”

I force a tight smile. “Peachy,” I say, stepping into the suite with her and tossing my backpack on a chair. “Home sweet home, huh?”

She sighs and closes the door, muffling any eavesdroppers. “I know it’s a lot,” she begins softly.

“Don’t,” I interrupt, holding up a hand. “Don’t try to pep-talk me right now. It’s fine. We’re here, it’s done. Let’s just…get this over with.”

Mom’s shoulders slump a little. I instantly feel a twinge of guilt, but I turn away and wander to the tall window that overlooks the front courtyard.

Outside, dusk is creeping in, bathing the grounds in blue-gray. From here I can see the circular drive where our car is parked and beyond it the stone arch that marks the estate’s entrance.

Movement draws my eye—a lone figure walking across the courtyard as if headed toward the house. At first I think it could be Alpha Alastair at last. But no, this figure is younger, taller, dressed in black from head to toe. He moves with an easy, predatory grace, each stride confident. Even from a distance something about him sets my nerves tingling.

He steps through a shaft of waning sunlight, and I finally see his face. Strong jaw, tousled jet-black hair, broad shoulders filling out that black shirt. There’s no denying it—he’s dangerously handsome, like a thunderstorm on the horizon. And he’s staring straight up at this window. At me.

Our eyes lock, and for a split second, the world narrows to that point of connection. His gaze is intense. I feel it like a physical touch, pinning me in place. I forget to breathe.

My wolf, which has been on edge since we arrived, goes very still inside me—alert, ears pricked. An odd heat blooms in my chest, tugging me a half-step closer to the glass before I catch myself. What the hell…?

The man cocks his head slightly, as if studying me. Then I notice the resemblance—the angle of his jaw, the proud set of his shoulders, the way he carries himself. He looks like the Alpha. This must be Kael, Alastair’s son. My soon-to-be stepbrother.

The thought is like a slap of cold water, dousing whatever weird spark had lit inside me. That man is supposed to be my family now? Hell no.

Kael’s face is unreadable as he watches me. He hasn’t moved an inch. A cluster of crows suddenly erupts from a nearby tree, cawing as they take flight. The spell shatters.

I yank the curtain closed, heart hammering. My cheeks are warm, and I’m irritated by the fact that I reacted at all. It was just a look. A really intense, really unfairly sexy look—but just a look. I scowl, muttering a curse under my breath.

What is wrong with me? Stomach flipping over some guy I glimpsed for all of five seconds, just because he has a bone structure carved by the gods and is apparently allergic to smiling? No. I refuse. I’m here for Mom, for the alliance, nothing more. Certainly not to make friends with the glowering prince of this pack.

Behind me, Mom rustles through her suitcase, oblivious to my mini-episode. Good. I don’t feel like explaining why I’m suddenly on edge. I give myself a shake. So Kael’s easy on the eyes—he’s also clearly an arrogant ass. Who stares someone down like that instead of coming up to say hello? He could’ve joined the welcome party if he cared to.

Fine by me. I didn’t come here to bond with him. The less I have to do with Kael Blackthorn, the better.

---

By nightfall, I’m standing in the middle of Blackthorn Pack’s courtyard under a twilight sky, watching my mother marry a man she barely knows.

The ceremony is mercifully brief. They set up a simple altar at one end of the courtyard, adorned with white candles and a few sprigs of late-summer flowers. It’s almost pretty in a stark way. Only a small gathering is present: a handful of Blackthorn Pack’s elites and a few representatives from our Ashfall Pack who traveled with us. I spot Lyra lurking at the fringe, keeping a watchful eye.

Alpha Alastair—tall and imposing with salt-and-pepper hair—stands at the altar in a crisp charcoal suit, the picture of stern elegance. My mother, in a simple ivory dress that drapes around her gracefully, walks toward him with Beta Sienna escorting her. Mom catches my eye as she passes and gives me a trembling smile. I manage to smile back, hoping it looks encouraging.

Kael stands just behind his father’s right shoulder, a step back from the altar like a dutiful son. He’s in formal black attire as well—black shirt, black jacket, black pants—blending into the shadow of his father. His stance is rigid, hands clasped in front of him. I swear he doesn’t move or blink the entire time. He might as well be a statue.

I avoid looking directly at him, but I feel his presence like a thorn prickling my awareness. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the occasional detail: the clench of his jaw, the way he stares impassively over the crowd’s heads. Only when the officiant asks for the rings does he finally move, stepping forward to hand a small wooden box to his father. Even then, he’s mechanical, expression blank.

Is he angry? Upset? It’s hard to tell. He’s giving nothing away. Meanwhile I have a storm swirling inside me. This alliance marriage might save our packs, but it feels so hollow. Wolves usually mate for love, or at least some bond. But here are my mother and Alastair, exchanging vows like it’s a business contract.

The pack elder officiates with solemn words about unity and sacrifice. Mom and Alastair each cut their palm with a ceremonial knife and clasp hands, letting a few drops of blood mix—an old ritual symbolizing two families joining. I wonder if that’s the only pain they’ll ever admit to in this arrangement.

Finally, the elder pronounces them bound and Alastair gives my mother a brief kiss on the cheek. A polite smattering of applause follows. I clap along, face smooth, heart heavy.

And just like that, it’s done. My mother is Luna of Blackthorn Pack now.

As people disperse or step forward to congratulate the new pair, a small reception begins on the other side of the courtyard. A few tables with refreshments, strings of fairy lights overhead. It’s understated, almost cold in its formality. No one here is truly celebrating.

I slip away toward the edges of the gathering, needing a moment to breathe. I catch snippets of murmured conversations around me—mostly about how the alliance is sealed and hopeful comments that this will help against the rogues. Ever practical.

I grab a glass of fizzy cider from a table and take a long sip, wishing it were something stronger. My eyes scan for Kael out of curiosity, but he’s nowhere in sight. Maybe he vanished the second duty allowed. Fine by me.

Leaning against a stone railing, I stare out into the dark forest beyond the estate’s lights. The night is cool and the wind carries the scent of pine and distant rain. It calms me, a little.

“Hey. You holding up?” Lyra’s voice, low near my shoulder, makes me turn. She must have followed at a distance.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” I mutter. At her skeptical look, I sigh. “I’ll survive. But I might die of boredom first.”

Lyra snorts. “Better bored than dead. And if one more of these stuck-up snobs looks at you wrong, I really will start a fight.”

I actually grin. “Please don’t. Last thing we need is to cause an incident at the wedding.”

She pats my arm. “Alright. I’ll leave you be for now. Just say the word if you need an extraction.” With that, Lyra melts back into the background, probably to keep an eye on things from afar.

I turn back to my vigil at the railing, but I barely get a minute of peace. I sense someone approaching—my neck prickles with awareness. Schooling my face into neutrality, I pivot and find Alpha Alastair and my mother standing there. Mom’s arm is threaded through his, and she looks relieved to see me.

“Ember,” Alastair says warmly—well, as warmly as his gruff voice allows. “Allow me to officially introduce my son, Kael.”

Only then do I see Kael step out from behind his father. He must have been trailing them quietly. My pulse jumps, but I plaster on a polite smile. Kael and I stand face to face, a respectful two feet apart, our parents watching like hawks. I get the full force of his gaze now—those storm-grey eyes drilling into me from up close. My wolf rouses, uneasy. I realize I’m expected to speak first. “Nice to meet you, Kael,” I manage, keeping my tone civil.

He inclines his head a fraction. “Ember,” he acknowledges. No smile, no offered hand. His voice is deep and cool. That one word sounds almost like a challenge just in how he says it.

I bite the inside of my cheek and hold my forced smile. The silence stretches awkwardly.

Alastair clears his throat. “Kael, I trust you’ll help Ember get settled in here.” Kael’s jaw flexes. “Of course,” he says evenly.

Mom jumps in a bit too brightly, “Ember is looking forward to learning about life in Blackthorn Pack. I’m sure you two will get along…as siblings.”

I manage not to wince at Mom’s overly optimistic tone. Kael’s eyes flick to his father, then back to me. Did I imagine that flash of irritation?

Alastair nods, apparently satisfied. “Very good. Now, Celeste, there are some elders who want a word.” He guides my mother away, leaving me alone with Kael.

We stand there, the distant hum of conversation around us. I tuck a loose strand of red hair behind my ear and raise an eyebrow at him. “So...” I say under my breath, voice laced with dry humor, “do you always look this happy at your father’s weddings, or am I just special?”

Kael’s eyes narrow. He wasn’t expecting me to start like that. “What?” I tilt my head, keeping my tone light in case anyone is listening. “You look like you’re at a funeral, not a wedding. Not even going to pretend to be pleased about gaining a new family member?”

His lips curl in something that’s not a smile. He steps a hair closer, lowering his voice. “Do you always make this much noise just by walking into a room?”

I blink at the non sequitur. “Excuse me?”

Kael’s gaze drifts over the courtyard, not really looking at me as he speaks. “Ever since you and your mother arrived, it’s been chaos. The staff scrambling, wolves gossiping... You haven’t even been here a full day and already everything’s…different.” He bites off that last word, like it displeases him deeply.

My temper flares. “Sorry to disrupt your perfect routine,” I say through a clenched smile. “Trust me, this wasn’t my idea of a good time either.” His eyes snap back to mine. “Let’s get one thing clear,” he murmurs, stepping into my space. From the outside, it probably looks like a friendly chat, but I can feel the tension crackling. “You’re here because our parents have some grand plan. I don’t have to like it. And I don’t owe you any fake niceties.”

I let out a low, sarcastic chuckle. “Believe me, I’m not looking for niceties.” We’re toe to toe now, voices barely above whispers but heated. I can practically feel the radiating heat of him through the cool night air. My heart is thudding again, adrenaline from anger… and something else. Why does antagonizing him feel almost…fun?

His gaze flickers down over my face, and I notice his breathing has gotten shallow, matching mine. I should back off. We’re making a scene, even if a subtle one. But I can’t seem to step away.

“Good,” Kael says quietly. “Last thing I need is some entitled princess expecting me to roll out a welcome mat.”

My eyes flash. “Princess? Oh, you really have no idea who I am.”

He leans in closer, and I catch a whiff of his scent—smoke and pine, and underlying that, something musky that makes my head spin for a second. “I know exactly who you are,” he rumbles. “An outsider. A responsibility I never asked for.”

A little growl actually rises in my throat before I can stop it. “Careful, Kael. You may not want me here, but your pack needs my pack. So drop the attitude.”

One corner of his mouth twitches, and I can’t tell if it’s annoyance or the hint of a smile. “Fiery. I guess the name Ember is fitting,” he says.

“Better than being cold as ice,” I shoot back, perhaps too sharply. We’ve inched even closer during our hushed argument. I’m not sure how it happened, but now when I look up, his face is mere inches from mine. I can see a tiny scar slashing through his left eyebrow, the subtle flaring of his nostrils as he breathes. My racing heart hammers against my ribs. What is this feeling? I’m furious at him, and yet every nerve in my body is on high alert in a way that feels more like anticipation than anger.

This is ridiculous. We’re practically in each other’s faces; anyone glancing over might misconstrue this as something intimate rather than hostile. I need to break away now.

I start to step back just as he shifts forward, and for a split second our bodies brush. His chest grazes my forearm. It’s such a slight touch, but it sends a shock through me. A sharp tingling awareness zips along my skin where we made contact.

Kael goes still; I see his eyes widen a fraction. He felt that too…whatever that was.

A confusing jolt of panic and something disturbingly like desire hits me. I react the only way I know how—through deflection. Forcing a light laugh, I take a deliberate step back and say loudly enough for anyone nearby to hear, “Wow, you’re a real charmer. This is going to be great.”

Kael’s expression shutters closed so fast I almost doubt I saw that brief flicker of surprise. He straightens to his full height and gives me a thin, polite smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Likewise,” he says, voice cool and civility itself now.

We probably look like we just finished a pleasant chat. No one would guess my blood is boiling and my skin is humming.

“Enjoy the rest of your night, stepbrother,” I say sweetly, unable to resist the final jab.

His jaw tightens at the title. I flash him a saccharine smile and turn on my heel, leaving him standing there.

I walk away, weaving through the remaining guests until I’m clear of the reception and near the side of the house. My heart is pounding in my ears and my face feels hot. Goddess, what was that?

I pause in the shadows of a tall hedgerow, trying to collect myself. In the span of a few minutes, Kael managed to infuriate me, insult me, and… what? Fascinate me? No. No, I refuse to use that word.

Maybe coming out here was a mistake. Because if every interaction with him is going to be that head-spinning, I’m in trouble.

---

Hours later, long after the guests have gone and the house has gone quiet, I find myself outside again. This time I seek out a small stone wall behind the estate that borders the forest. The moon is a thin silver crescent, peeking through fast-moving clouds.

I couldn’t stand being cooped up in that ornate guest room, replaying the day’s events on a loop in my head. So I slipped out for some air, careful not to wake my mom or alert any nosy pack enforcers inside.

The night air is damp and cool. It smells of moss and wet leaves, soothing my raw nerves. In the distance, I hear a lone wolf’s howl—one of Blackthorn Pack’s patrols, maybe, or a rogue announcing itself. The sound sends a little chill through me.

I’m not totally alone for long. Soft footfalls crunch over the grass and gravel, and Lyra appears from around the corner, a dark silhouette with her hands in her jacket pockets.

“Figured you’d be out here,” she says, coming to lean on the wall next to me.

I manage a small smile. “Needed some air.”

She produces a slim metal flask and hands it to me. “Here. You deserve a nightcap after that shitshow.”

I unscrew the cap and take a swig. Whiskey, by the smell. The liquid burns down my throat, but it warms me. “Thanks,” I cough lightly, handing it back.

Lyra takes her own swig and tucks the flask away. She eyes me in that perceptive way she does. “You alright?”

“I’ve been worse,” I say. It’s evasive and we both know it.

She presses her lips together. “If you want my honest opinion, that son of theirs could use a good punch. Or ten.”

I huff a wry laugh. “Get in line.”

“I saw how he was acting toward you,” she mutters. “What an ass.”

“Yeah, well, I gave as good as I got,” I reply, rubbing my arms against the chill.

“Good.” She hesitates, then nudges me. “Just be careful, okay? I don’t trust him. Or any of them. Keep your guard up.”

“I will,” I promise. I don’t mention that part of what I need to guard is my own inexplicable reaction to him.

Lyra pulls me into a quick side hug. “I’m here as long as you need me, Em. You’re not alone.”

The tight knot in my chest loosens slightly. “Thank you.”

She releases me and steps back. “Alright, I better catch some sleep. Big day of being your watchdog tomorrow.” She winks.

I grin. “Sweet dreams, Fido.”

That earns me a middle-finger salute and a soft laugh as she heads off. “Night, Ember.”

“Night,” I call quietly.

I remain there after she’s gone, tilting my head up to the sky. The moon slips fully behind a cloud, darkening the woods. For the first time all day, I let myself acknowledge the ache of homesickness. I miss our old house, my friends back home (the ones who didn’t come with us), the familiar routine. The safety of knowing my place. Here, I don’t know anything except that I’m unwelcome.

A subtle creak from the manor’s back door pricks my ears. My senses go on alert. I catch a scent on the breeze—woodsmoke and pine. Him.

I stay still as a figure comes into view down the path. Kael. Of course.

He’s ditched the formal jacket and tie from earlier. His black shirt is unbuttoned at the collar, and he looks like he might have run his hands through his hair a few times. He hasn’t spotted me yet; he’s walking slowly, head down, until he pauses a few yards away, apparently noticing he’s not alone.

For a long moment, we just stare at each other through the dark. I’m half sitting on the low wall, arms wrapped around myself. Kael stands there, hands loose by his sides, an unreadable look on his face.

I consider slipping away without a word, but something in his posture stops me. He looks… tired. Defeated, even. It’s an emotion I recognize because I feel it too.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” I say quietly.

He exhales, a short wry sound. “No. Too much on my mind.”

“Join the club,” I reply, turning my gaze back out to the shadowy tree line.

Kael steps off the path and walks over slowly. He leans against the stone wall a few feet from me. I can sense he’s keeping a deliberate distance.

Silence settles between us. Strangely, it’s not as tense as before. Maybe we’re both too exhausted to fight.

“You know,” he says softly after a minute, “you could have refused to come. Nobody forced you into the car.”

I let out a dry laugh. “Right. And leave my mother to face all this alone? Or better yet, let my pack fend off the rogues by themselves?” I shake my head. “I couldn’t do that.”

He nods once, as if he expected that answer. “Still. You uprooted your whole life to move here. Must not have been easy.”

I cast him a sideways glance. “Is that… concern I hear?”

He scoffs under his breath. “Just an observation.”

“Well, observe this.” I sigh, looking up at the sliver of the moon just emerging again. “I hate that I’m here. You think I wanted any of this? I came because it was the only way to help my people. That’s it.”

Kael’s quiet for a heartbeat. Then, surprisingly, he responds, “I get it.”

I look at him in surprise.

His eyes remain on the treeline. “You think I like having my home turned upside down? Having strangers around every corner? I know why my father did this, but…” He trails off, then clenches his jaw. “I didn’t ask for it either.”

There’s raw honesty in his tone that catches me off guard. It might be the most emotion I’ve heard from him yet—frustration, resentment, even hurt.

Somehow, it softens me. Just a little. “At least that’s one thing we agree on,” I murmur. “Neither of us asked for this.”

Kael turns his head to finally meet my gaze. In the dim light his eyes look almost silver. “I meant what I said earlier,” he says quietly. “You don’t belong here, Ember.”

Hearing him say that again stings unexpectedly, even though I know it’s true. I drop my eyes. “You don’t have to remind me.”

“I’m just stating a fact.” His voice is low. “This place… it can be harsh. Our pack is not exactly welcoming. I’m sure you felt that already.”

I huff a soft, humorless laugh. “Yeah. I got the memo from the death glares and frosty silence.”

He hesitates, then pushes off the wall to stand upright. “I’m not saying it to be cruel. I just—” He stops, searching for words. “I don’t know what our parents were thinking. Throwing you to the wolves like this.”

He falls quiet, and in the silence I realize he understands just how messed up this is. That reluctant understanding from him eases some of my anger. Just a bit.

“Maybe they were thinking we’d somehow become one big happy family overnight,” I say bitterly.

Kael actually snorts, a tiny sound of derision. “They’re delusional if so.”

That almost coaxes a laugh out of me. Imagine that—Kael and I sharing a joke.

We lapse into silence again. The breeze rustles through the trees, and somewhere an owl hoots.

After a moment, Kael clears his throat. “Tomorrow… my father wants me to show you around. The territory, the pack house, everything.”

I tense up. Spending the day touring with him was not on my wish list. “Oh, joy,” I mutter.

He runs a hand through his hair, looking as thrilled as I feel. “I don’t like it either. But I’ll do it. Just… meet me in the morning by the main hall. 9am.”

I nod reluctantly. “Fine.”

Kael steps back, inching away from the wall. “It’s late. We should get some rest.”

“Yeah,” I whisper. My muscles protest as I slide off the wall—I hadn’t realized how tense I was this whole time.

We end up standing close as I straighten up. There’s a narrow path back to the house, bordered by the hedge on one side and the wall on the other. Kael gestures for me to go first.

I take a few steps down the path. It’s only wide enough for one at a time, so when he follows, he’s right behind me. At the back door, I pause to test it. It swings open—it wasn’t latched, likely left ajar by someone earlier.

I glance over my shoulder at Kael. “Goodnight,” I offer quietly.

“Goodnight,” he echoes.

We step inside, the corridor dim and empty. I turn to pull the door closed, and Kael moves at the same time to help.

Near the door, we misjudge our positions in the dark and our bodies suddenly brush. His arm grazes mine, his chest briefly against my back as we both jerk away.

It’s a split-second of contact, but it slams into me. A crackle—like static electricity—zips through my body where we touched. I gasp softly at the intensity of it.

Kael goes completely still. I can hear the catch in his breathing.

For a moment, neither of us moves or speaks. My arm tingles, my heart thundering, a flush creeping up my neck.

What the hell was that? That spark, that heat…

Kael steps back quickly, putting space between us. He reaches past me and pushes the door closed fully.

I step further into the dim hall. Kael stays near the threshold.

"Goodnight, Ember," he says quietly.

I glance over my shoulder. In the shadows, I can just make out his face, brow furrowed as if he’s as confused as I am. "Goodnight, Kael," I reply, my voice soft.

He turns and slips back outside, pulling the door shut behind him. I stand there for a second in the darkness, listening to his footsteps retreat into the night.

I lift a hand to rub my arm where that strange jolt still lingers under my skin. My wolf is wide awake, pacing restlessly. I feel off-balance, like the ground shifted under my feet.

How can I despise someone and yet…feel whatever that was when he touched me? It had to be adrenaline or stress. It had to be.

I draw a slow, unsteady breath. "What the hell was that?" I whisper to the darkness.

There’s no answer, of course. With a shake of my head, I slip down the hall to my room, trying—and failing—to forget the way his touch made me feel.