Ember

Amber looked around in confusion and sorrow. The charred, crushed remains of the women and children of the pack lay around her in the dark, the smell of burnt flesh overwhelming. She didn’t understand how this had happened, they were supposed to have been safe in the basement. That’s what she’d believed when her father ordered them down here when the attack started. He’d promised to protect them.

But where was he? Where were the warriors? Had the explosion been what started the fire?

Amber looked down one last time at what remained of her once beautiful mother, wishing her gift could have protected her—protected all of them—like it had protected herself. It wasn’t fair. What was the point of having this gift if it couldn’t save the ones she loved?

Holding back the breakdown she wanted to have, Amber whispered, “Goodbye, mommy,” into the dark room and turned away. The screams and sobs of her pack members echoed through her brain as she tried to make her way to the metal door that would lead to the staircase. She had to get away from all this death, all this destruction. It was suffocating.

Several beams from the ceiling had partially fallen, creating a crisscross of support that had kept the building from completely collapsing on her, but made getting through the room difficult. Amber tried not to focus on any of the details around her as she climbed over bodies and under the beams, thanking her werewolf sight that she was able to see enough to not trip, but wishing she couldn’t see the broken remains of her friends.

At least Merry wasn’t here. She knew she wouldn’t make it if he had been killed, too.

Finally reaching the metal door, Amber pushed as hard as she could against the lock, knowing it would only open from the inside. When she heard it creak, she pulled the door in, sliding through the gap and making her way to the metal stairs, thankful they had withstood the fire. Looking up, Amber could see light shining through a broken window in a wall that had fallen across the top of the stairway. Using the last of her strength, she shimmied up another fallen beam and pulled herself through the window.

Amber’s immense relief at being out of the basement was short-lived. She looked around for her father, but what she saw instead made her heart stop. She was surrounded, on every side, by a group of vicious and mangy-looking rogues, at least a hundred of them. All of them dripping blood from their teeth, mud and sticks matting their fur. All snarling, all looking directly at her.

Behind them she saw dozens of bodies; the men from her pack—bloody, ripped apart, scattered all around the clearing. Among them she could see her father, the once proud, strong Alpha, with his chest ripped open, his blank, glassy eyes staring right at her.

“Daddy…”

Amber’s heart shattered as tears ran down her cheeks.

There was no hope now.

The largest wolf stepped over her father’s body and stalked toward her, licking his teeth and growling lowly. Fresh claw marks marred the fur across his left eye. His fur was cleaner than the other wolves, less matted, but the color was off—dull, like it was void of life. There was no color, no different shades to it other than an empty gray. He stopped in front of her, dark eyes looking her over. She whimpered as he lowered his nose to her neck and took a deep inhale, tears streaming down her face as she shook violently, but she turned her head out of instinct to allow him to smell her.

The large wolf in front of her shifted, bones cracking as his form folded back into that of a man. He had towered over her as a wolf. As a man, he was a giant, glaring down on her small body with eyes the same empty gray color as his fur. The bloody claw marks over his eye stood out even more against his skin. The distinct scent of rogue oozed off him, rotting meat and death.

“How are you alive, Alpha’s daughter?” he growled out, having recognized her scent. All wolves’ ranks were recognizable by the scent they gave off.

Amber cried harder, looking down at her feet, unsure how to respond.

“Answer me!” he roared, causing her to jump so hard she tripped over her own feet and fell back on her bottom. Growling even louder, he bent over and grabbed her by the hair, lifting her in the air so they were eye to eye. He shook her so violently she could feel her hair ripping from her skull, the pain so intense she thought she would throw up as she screamed.

“You have three seconds to answer me before I rip your head from your body and feed you to my warriors, Rat.”

Amber’s eyes went wide as she stared at the beast before her, realizing as he held up three bloody fingers that he was completely serious.

“No, please don’t hurt me! I don’t know!” she pleaded, words rushing out so fast they nearly tumbled over each other. “I was in the fire, but it didn’t hurt me. Fire has never hurt me! My father says I was smiled upon by the Moon Goddess, that I have a rare and special gift. Sometimes I can make fire move, or get bigger, but it only works sometimes. Please just let me go!” she sobbed out, praying to the Goddess he would show kindness and let her be, knowing all the while it was futile.

But... was he smiling now? Was there a chance? He even chuckled a little, surprise clear in his eyes.

A sliver of hope filled her, but died again as she realized she had said the wrong thing, had told him too much.

His eyes turned liquid black, glowing, his smile turning wicked, showing his canines as they elongated into his bottom lip.

Amber knew then there was no escape. Her father had told her to be careful with her gift, to keep it secret, but in her fear she had forgotten. So stupid.

“How old are you?” he asked her, his voice like gravel.

“Ten,” she whimpered, defeated. “It’s my birthday today…”

“What a delicious age.” He chuckled, the sinister smile creeping back over his lips. “Happy birthday, my sweet Little Rat. I think I’ll keep you. How about we go open your present, huh, Little Rat? I just can’t wait to show it to you.”

The Man turned, still dragging Amber by her hair, past the fallen men of her pack, and into the closest house.