Dirt caked into the open sores on my ankles, turning every step into torture. I bit my lip until I tasted copper to keep from howling.
"Move your hooves, dead weight."
Rain spat at his feet without looking back. His knife scraped against a whetstone with a nasty grating sound.
"Her feet are bleeding, Rain." Liam didn't even look my way; his eyes were busy scanning the brush.
"So? Cale said she's coming with us. That means she crawls if she can't walk."
Ahead, beyond a wall of thick raspberry bushes, came Cale's ragged roar. It was a heavy, vibrating sound that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. The Thorn brothers answered him with the same impatient howl. A second later, the crackle of breaking branches faded into the distance. They had scented the beast.
"They're gone," Rain muttered, leaning against a pine trunk while continuing to sharpen his steel. "And here we are, playing nannies. You hear that howling? There's a chase going on, and I'm stuck here... with this little mistake."
Liam turned sharply toward me. There was no pity in his eyes—only cold calculation. He caught my gaze and gave a barely perceptible nod toward a ravine shrouded in gray mist.
"Gather firewood," Liam said, stepping toward me and shoving my shoulder roughly.
I barely stayed on my feet, clutching a gnarled branch.
"Why?" I forced the word out of my parched throat. "Cale commanded..."
"I don't care what he commanded. The fire won't light itself when they return with the carcass. Go. Down there, under the slope, there's plenty of dry wood."
Rain didn't even lift his head.
"Don't let her go far," he tossed out. "Cale will have our hides if we lose her."
"Open your eyes," Liam snapped, grabbing my elbow and literally dragging me toward the thicket. "Where is she going to go on feet like those?"
Once we were hidden behind a dense curtain of ferns, Liam's grip did not loosen. He dragged me deeper into the forest until we stood at the foot of a monstrous oak. Its roots, like the gnarled fingers of a dead man, dug into the black earth.
A silhouette detached itself from the tree's shadow.
"Isabelle?" I exhaled, feeling my knees tremble.
"Faster," Liam released me and climbed a hillock, becoming a motionless statue. "You don't have much time. If Cale returns early..."
"He won't return until he spills blood," the healer's voice sounded hollow, like the rustle of dry leaves.
Isabelle stepped into the light. Her eyes glowed with frightening clarity beneath her hood. She seized my palms with hers—hot and dry, like melted wax.
"You're shaking," Isabelle pulled me toward her, forcing me to stand straight.
"It's cold. And Cale... he's gone mad on this hunt."
"Show me your neck."
She unceremoniously yanked the collar of my shirt. I flinched as her fingers touched the fresh teeth marks. Isabelle frowned, her lips moving soundlessly.
"He marks what he's afraid to lose," she whispered.
"He isn't afraid of anyone. He's the Alpha."
"Silly girl. Wolves knew no chains until the First appeared."
"What First? Isabelle, we have to go, Liam said—"
"Listen!" The healer squeezed my wrists so hard I gasped. "Long ago, when the packs were one, an Omega lived in the forests. She was considered trash. A mistake. The Alphas used her as a mattress, as bear bait, as a rag to wipe blood from their fangs."
"Like me," bitterness burned my throat.
"No. Not like you. They laughed at her until the Tyrant King took her to his bed to humiliate her before everyone. He thought he was breaking the weakest of them. He didn't know that the poison was already in his blood."
"Poison? Did she poison him?"
"She was the poison. Her very essence."
Isabelle moved closer. I smelled wormwood and old wood.
"Legend says that Omega blood is not weakness. It is a dormant flame. It doesn't provide fangs or claws; it does something worse. It takes the Alpha's will. It burns it from within, turning the leader into a slave of the one he despised."
Something stirred in my chest. A strange, pulsing jolt of heat.
"Why..." I faltered, feeling the heat spread through my veins, "why does it feel like everything is burning inside?"
"Because the blood recognizes the truth," Isabelle touched my chest. "Do you hear it? Your heart doesn't beat for him. It beats against him."
The heat in my veins became almost unbearable. The pain in my wounded feet suddenly receded, replaced by a strange lightness.
"Does Cale feel it?" my voice sounded foreign, deeper. "Is that why he's so..."
"He is obsessed with you because his beast senses its own doom. In you flows the blood of the ancient wolf-kings, Alina. Those who ruled before strength was measured only by teeth."
A sharp, piercing whistle from above made us both jump. Liam. The alarm.
"They're coming!" he shouted, sliding down the hillock. "Isabelle, get out of here!"
The healer quickly pressed a rough burlap pouch into my palm.
"Herbs. Drink them with water while he sleeps. It will hide the scent of your awakening."
"I'm afraid," I clung to her cloak.
"Your blood will wake in the pain he causes," Isabelle grabbed my face, forcing me to look into her eyes. "Remember that. Every touch of his is a spark. When the fire starts, do not try to put it out."
She vanished into the ferns before I could ask anything else. Liam leaped to my side, grabbed my shoulder, and yanked me away.
"Grab the branches! Move!"
He thrust a bundle of dry sticks into my arms, nearly scratching my face.
"Liam, she said—"
"Shut up. Just shut up and look at the ground."
We burst onto the path just as the bushes opposite us exploded with movement. Cale stepped out first. He was splattered with blood from head to toe—someone else's blood was steaming on his chest and arms. In his hands, he gripped the head of a large stag.
Rain jumped up, baring his teeth in a subservient grin.
"Good kill, Alpha."
Cale didn't answer. He froze, his nostrils quivering. He slowly turned his head toward us. The Alpha's eyes narrowed into two amber slits.
"Why did it take so long?" his voice vibrated with unspent aggression.
"Dry wood is scarce," Liam didn't look away, though I saw the muscles in his neck tighten. "We had to go down to the ravine."
Cale dropped the stag's head at Rain's feet and crossed the distance to me in two strides. His presence weighed on me like a multi-ton slab. I lowered my head, hiding my eyes, but the heat inside me didn't disappear. On the contrary, it pulsed harder, responding to his proximity.
"What is that smell?" Cale grabbed my chin and forced my face up.
"Dirt," I squeezed out, trying not to let the pouch slip from my pocket.
"No," he inhaled the air right by my ear. "Herbs. Old magic. Was Isabelle here?"
"How could she be here?" Liam stepped forward. "We didn't see anyone."
Cale slowly shifted his gaze to his brother. The atmosphere became thick enough to cut with a knife.
"If I find out you're lying, Liam..."
"You ordered her to gather firewood yourself," Liam interrupted. "She was with me."
Cale looked back at me. His fingers tightened on my chin, almost to the point of cracking bone.
"You're shaking, little Omega."
"It hurts. You... you're standing on my wound."
I wasn't lying. His heavy boot was indeed pressing down on my raw ankle. Cale smirked—cruelly, with clear pleasure.
"Good. The pain will remind you whose you are."
He shoved me away, and I fell to my knees, scattering the collected branches. The pouch in my pocket burned against my thigh.
"Butcher the carcass," Cale barked at Rain. "And you..." he pointed a finger at me. "Come here. You'll hold the meat while I skin it."
I stood up, feeling that same ember the healer spoke of smoldering inside me, beneath layers of fear and humiliation. Every word Cale spoke, every flash of his rage, was perceived differently now.
"I said move!" he roared.
I walked toward him, clenching my fists. The heat in my veins no longer frightened me. It gave me a foundation.
"Your blood will wake in the pain he causes," echoed in my head.
I looked at Cale's blood-stained hands and realized Isabelle was right. My life was no longer just an attempt to survive. I was a ticking bomb now, and Cale himself, with his own hands, was holding the match to the fuse.
"Hold this," he shoved the slick, hot edge of the hide into my hands.
I gripped it, watching his knife plunge into the flesh.
"Pull harder," he growled. "No strength at all?"
"I have strength enough," I answered quietly, looking him right in the eye.
Cale froze. For a second, a flicker of confusion crossed his gaze—he didn't recognize what he saw in my pupils. But then he bared his teeth and went back to the knife.
"We'll see how long you last."
I remained silent, feeling the pouch of herbs in my pocket weigh heavier than any gold. The prophecy had begun to unfold. And the first pain was already here.