Prologue
Desire is a feeling like any other among the mortals. They wish for something or someone strongly and readily move on when lady luck doesn’t favour them. They start to fancy new objects, different places and different people as quickly as they breathe. For the ones blessed by the Moon Mother, desire is holding a burning piece of coal inside their heart, where it keeps blazing with the untameable eternal fire and slowly devours the beast of the night with longing, craving and love.
A kind of love that can tear one apart from inside and transforms the muted lust to pure animalistic instincts. In the realm where legends from stories are real, there are no fleeting lovers but mates who crave each other’s body and soul till eternity. They protect each other ruthlessly from anyone who tries to tear them apart.
Niya lay still on the bed, her tiny body almost lost in the big, woolly blankets. She was nervous, her lips trembling and then stretching into a thin smile. He was here. Her mate and her Alpha. He entered the tent, bending down his tall figure to avoid the top of the entrance. His still eyes glazed down her body, her face, lips, her neck and then his gaze got more intense as he looked at the sheets cradling the lower half of her body, as if mentally already ripping through them to get to her softness.
He was on top of her at lightning speed, like a wolf chasing prey. But he was soft, barely pushing down his weight on her thin body and putting up two fingers to brush away her silver hair from her face. Every second seemed to stretch into hours as they gazed at each other. A droplet of sweat trickled down his forehead to land in the middle of her chest.
“Are you ready?” He asked her, concern laced through his voice, which was bursting with excitement and lust.
Niya grabbed the back of his neck and swept up to kiss him, which was answer enough for the Alpha. He trapped her easily in between his strong arms, pinning her down with comfortable pressure. His hand travelled up her loose shirt, the coolness of it making her flinch with pleasure. His long fingers reached the roundness of her breasts and he couldn’t take it anymore, squeezing his eyes shut, and savouring every last bit of warmth from her supple skin.
“I want you…” She whispered softly against his ear.
The night is dark like an untimely eclipse which is unusual as the sky is graced by the Moon Mother in her full form. There is a storm brewing with dark clouds swirling and blocking blessed light to grace Clan Winterfrost on a very special occasion. Everyone in the clan was gearing up for a celebration to welcome the second child of their Alpha Herald when rain started to pour down and a thunderstorm dampened the spirit.
Herald is pacing before his doorstep, muscles taught in tension and jaws clenched with anticipation when a youngling comes braving the storm. He transforms into his human form entirely drenched and Herald recognizes him as Donny, one of the new werewolves to complete his shifting in the last full moon.
“The Crone is asking for you urgently Alpha. '' He says with eyes big as saucers and an underlying nervousness as if he has been practising the statement the entire way.
Herald looks at the locked door of his cottage and contemplates for a second not to go right away. Inside his wife Rosalyn is writhing on the bed with labour pain which is slowly escalating with the storm outside. The birth of his first daughter Vivian had been nothing short of a boon for them and although the event was hidden from prying ears initially, in no time the news was spread.
Now Moon Mother may bless the Alpha and Luna of this clan with a son which will solidify their legacy and create fear among other rogue power hungry clans who are always sniffing out weakness and pouncing on opportunities. But the Crone is the eldest and most important asset of any clan with the power of an oracle. Her eyes see a lot and her mind travels to either past and future bringing omens or good fortune. She must have something very crucial to discuss to call for the Alpha amidst all these.
Herald knocks on the door softly to check on his mate and the clan matrons helping her. The door opens and he is immediately hit with the painful cries of his wife and metallic scent of blood. Werewolves are no stranger to a bloody mess but seeing his mate at the centre of the puddle, arching with agony, Herald becomes agitated and rushes to the bedside. He clutches his wife’s hand in a tight grip as her body spasms with a fresh wave of labour.
“How long, matron?” Herald asks the eldest nurse.
“It will take time son.” She maintains a levelled tone but Herald notices the worry etched on her features.
“I will be gone for a while; the Crone has asked me to visit her. Take care of her and my children till I come…”
She nods once and continues to massage the ointments on Rosalyn’s legs with steady hands. Herald glances once towards her one year old daughter Vivian’s crib before rushing out of the room on the rainy night.
The Crone lives in a small cottage just at the edge of the clan boundary. Even with the earthy smell of rain soaked soil her cottage emanates scents of herbs and spices. Herald attempts to knock on the door but finds it already open. The cottage is protected with magic such that no one can enter without the Crone’s wishes. He gently pushes the door and takes in the single room with caution. Even the mighty Alphas don’t take a chance with power of such kind. The room is littered with old documents, tomes and books so fragile that they might turn to dust if touched. Charms, bracelets and herbs are hanging everywhere and the entire room is lit up by numerous candles. The Crone is sitting on a rocking chair at the side of the window with her back to the main door where Herald now stands. Her long white hair and frail frame is the testament of her old age.
“Come in Herald, there is much to discuss.” The Crone speaks in her raspy voice that can chill the hearts of even the bravest without even turning to face him.
Herald walks towards her cautiously and proceeds to stand in front of her chair maintaining a healthy distance. Her face is marked by time beyond his imagination with wrinkles and ridges at every corner but when she finally looks up at him; Herald notices the shine of moonlight in her eyes which is more alive than anything in this world. She must have had her scrying session just before he got here. Herald dips his head once in honour and waits expectantly for the Crone to speak.
“The darkness lurking outside is something I haven’t witnessed in a long time.” She says shifting her eyes towards the open window and into the black night.
“I have been here longer than you can imagine Herald; I have witnessed the rise and fall of many Alphas, but the Winterfrost Clan has stood through the abuse of time.” She pins her eyes on him “Our kind is savage and ruthless when it comes to power and power is not always proven in bloodshed. You have been blessed with a daughter last year and I had no concerning news to deliver, but this time...” she pinches her face in concentration and closes her eyes for a moment.
Herald keeps the roiling concern inside as best as he can. Sweat beads at his brows as he processes what she said about the power struggle.
“This time?” He asks as the silence stretches longer.
“Sharpen your claws and bare your canine Alpha.” She says with steel in her voice “You need to preserve your strength and wisdom. Prepare yourself for an immediate grief; I am afraid the Luna will not survive the night…”
Her words cut through Herald’s heart like a knife and it takes all his concentration to not shapeshift into his wolf form and pounce on her. Ancient or not the urge to protect his mate from any kind of threat, even verbal is something every werewolf feels once mating is done. There is no bond stronger than the one shared between two wolves in love; when the bond is severed the pain and loss is unimaginable.
The Crone notices the change in his demeanour with an unflinching attitude. “Mark my words, your expectations may not be fulfilled right at the moment but this new addition to your family will prove worthy when the right time comes. Destiny predicts some major events and has many things in store for you and your family. Remember, raging into war will not secure your win but forging the right relations will. Make the right choices. You may go now, share some last moments with your dying wife.”
She leans back in her chair and slips into silence, indication of her dismissal. Herald doesn’t waste a single second and runs for his love. The cold raindrops don’t soothe the fear gripping his heart and he pumps his legs faster through the onslaught of powerful winds. When he reaches his doorstep he is met with chilling silence, like the blanket of death has fallen over already.
Soaked and shaken Herald braces himself for the worst fate Moon Mother can bestow upon him. As he enters his house he is met with silent looks from the nurses and her wife’s lifeless body, white as paper among the blood soaked linens. Even in death she looks beautiful like a flower only now leached of her colours. Her face is solemn; devoid of the smile that made his heart skip every single time. Herald sinks to his knees suddenly weakened by the absence of his mate. All the strength that makes him the Alpha is leaving with the hot tears streaming down his face.
“We are sorry son, we couldn’t save her.” The old matron says, sorrow heavy in her voice.
”Take a look at your newborn, we have cleaned her.”
With sheer fortitude he tears his eyes from her dead wife and glances at the living breathing mark she has left for him. At first he sees nothing but a small puddle of white clothes in the matron’s arms. On taking a closer look he finds a small baby girl with fragile little hands and deep blue eyes staring silently at nothing in particular. Her short hair is silver white and has a shine like moonlight sparkling on the water surface.
Herald’s control shatters, his mind already spiralling down in the dark pits of grief gets one more disappointment before he transforms into the beast he actually is underneath the layers of skin. The matron’s reflexes saves the girl from falling over but when the great wolf stares down in her blue eyes he only finds confusion and mirth rather than fearful tears.
Something tugs at his heart; after all she is his own flesh and blood. But tonight is the night to abandon all the responsibilities for a while and mourn the loss of his love. Herald leaves his house for the forest; but lost in his grief he doesn’t even notice that the storm has ended revealing the full moon with her dazzling light falling on his newborn daughter and making the birthmark on her right wrist glow silvery white.