Chapter 2 The Alpha's Command

The next morning, Amelia awoke to an odd warmth seeping through her skin. For a moment, she lay still, eyes half-closed, letting the sensation wash over her. But then her hand moved to her wrist, and her breath caught. The skin there tingled faintly, almost as if it remembered being touched.

She could still feel the echo of the stranger's grip from the night before firm, electric, and oddly... calming.

Her dreams had been a blur of fire and ice, of a man with piercing silver eyes and a voice that echoed in her bones. In one, he had stood before her in the moonlight, shirtless, his scars catching the glow like threads of silver, and his gaze had been so intense it felt like it could unravel her.

The morning sun poured into her small bedroom, painting the walls in warm gold. But even that light couldn't chase away the chill in her chest. Something had shifted inside her something she couldn't name, couldn't explain.

Downstairs, she heard her aunt moving around the kitchen, the faint clatter of cups and the sizzle of something frying.

"You're up early," Aunt May said without looking up when Amelia padded into the kitchen.

"Couldn't sleep," Amelia replied, reaching for the kettle. She poured herself a cup of tea, but her hands shook ever so slightly. She tried to keep her tone casual, though her heart was thundering in her chest. "Aunt May... have you ever heard of people having... marks that burn?"

The older woman froze for the briefest moment-just enough for Amelia to notice-before she resumed stirring the pot.

"Burns? Probably just a rash, Millie. You've always been sensitive to things. Remember that time you reacted to lavender soap?" She chuckled lightly, but the sound didn't reach her eyes.

Amelia frowned. This was different, and they both knew it. The mark on her wrist three slashes surrounded by a faint ring of fire still glowed faintly beneath her hoodie sleeve. It wasn't the kind of thing that appeared out of nowhere... unless it was something out of a fantasy novel.

Breakfast sat untouched as her mind whirled. She didn't plan on going back into the woods-not after last night-but an invisible thread seemed to pull her there. No matter how much she tried to resist, her feet eventually carried her past the back garden, through the dew-wet grass, and into the shade of the trees.

The deeper she went, the quieter the world became. Even the birdsong faded, replaced by an almost tangible hum in the air, as if the forest itself was holding its breath.

She found herself in a hidden clearing she had never seen before, though something about it felt... familiar. The air was thick with an energy that raised the hairs on her arms. She took a step forward.

A low growl echoed from the shadows.

Her pulse spiked. Shapes moved between the trees-large, swift, and predatory.

Before panic could take over, a figure stepped into the clearing from behind the largest tree. It was him-the man from last night. His silver eyes locked onto hers, sharp and unyielding. His shirt was gone, revealing a chest crisscrossed with scars, each one a silent story of battles fought and survived.

"You shouldn't be here," he said, voice a deep growl that seemed to vibrate through the ground beneath her feet.

Amelia's breath hitched. She should have run, but something kept her rooted in place. "You... you marked me."

He took a deliberate step toward her. And then another. Each movement radiated both warning and promise.

"You don't know what you are," he said quietly, but there was nothing soft in his tone. "But now that you carry the Alpha's mark..." His gaze dropped to her wrist, the faint glow reflected in his eyes. "...you belong to me."

She swallowed hard, heat blooming in her cheeks. "Who are you?"

He leaned in, close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath. His eyes-once silver-flared gold, burning like molten metal.

"My name is Kael. Alpha of the Emberfang Pack. And you, little flame, have just set a prophecy in motion."