Chapter 1 MATES IN THE BATTLEFIELD
Chapter One
MATES IN THE BATTLEFIELD
~Ignis Pov
...The Battle Ground
The night was complete in its stillness, save for howling wolves, in their howling echoing across open expanses of space, sounded alive. Above me, the full moon lit the silver tint uphill of the downhill battlefield. The pounding had my ears ringing in cadence, to drums of war, and beneath that ridge, I saw the aftermath of whatever turmoil the ground itself had created. Red and brown blended beneath ripping claws. The wolves snarled violently, their bodies colliding in a storm of teeth and fur. This war needed to be done. These were the lands so fertile and ripe that my pack depended on them for survival. We couldn't afford to lose them now, not ever.
But as the leader, it wasn't just about the land, it was about my people.
I went down the ridge, my paws slipping in at measured steps into the damp earth. Every bone in my body screamed for action; the adrenaline of the fight in my mind was razor-sharp. An Alpha never loses control. I moved through the chaos as a presence that parted wolves like a tide. They knew me. They feared me.
And they should.
“Alpha Ignis!" a scout wailed from the left, hobbling toward me. His side was ripped open, his blood clotted his rusty fur. "They push hard to the west! We are outnumbered!"
I nodded jerkily, with a battle plan already taking shape in my mind. "Hold the line," I cut through the noise as if using a knife. "Reinforce from behind to the west side. I'll take care of the rest.”
He faltered, then bowed his head and limped off. I didn't wait to see if my orders were followed and knew they would be. My pack trusted me. They had to. I had no mate by my side to share the weight of leadership, one to lean on when the nights grew too long and the burdens too heavy.
And now, there was no time to indulge that hollow ache.
I sprang into the fight, claws raking the ground as I plunged toward the heart of it. Howling wolves leaped at my sides, eyes stirred with battle frenzy. I moved like a storm through bedlam, clearing a swath with calculated precision slash here, a bite there. My mind was clear, my focus tight.
Until I saw him.
Across the battlefield he stood, this great silver wolf with eyes of molten gold; his coat shimmering bright in the moonlight, slick with the blood of my warriors. Larger than most, commanding, his movements fluid and lethal. Chaotic as the scene was, control issued from him.
I knew in one swift second who he was.
The general of the enemy pack.
His eyes locked on mine, and time seemed to stand still. My breath hitched as something strange and sharp sparked inside me, sending electricity racing along my body. It was as if the air between us was alive, crackling with some sort of fierce, inexplicable intensity.
No.
It couldn't be.
Mate.
The word rang in my head like the crack of thunder, shattering every wall I had put up. My heart heaved violently in my chest as I reeled back, claws scraping against the earth.
He howled low and guttural, a sound full of pain and disbelief. "Mate," he growled, the word slipping from his maw as if he could not help himself.
I shook my head hard, backpedaling. This could not be. This wasn't right. My mate was gone, taken from me years ago, his body lost to war. I'd mourned him, I'd grieved him, and now the Moon Goddess mocked me with this?
One halting step forward he just simply let his gaze lock on mine with his silvery wolf eyes, and I could feel this pull between an inexorable bond that tugged at my soul. Maddening. Intoxicating.
"Stay back!" I snarled, my voice shaking for there was mingled rage and desperation there.
But he didn't. His eyes gentled turmoil and longing brewing in those amber depths. "I'm not your enemy," he said, low and melodious, a stroke of calm within the bedlam going on around us.
I bared my teeth. Anger rose in a tidal wave. "You're the general of the pack that threatens my people. That makes you my enemy.”
“And yet, you’re my mate,” he countered, his tone tinged with disbelief.
The words struck me with the physical strength of a blow-mate, mate, a burn between us which refused to be denied its being and tamed. I was, however, not about to claim another mate; it had been much too soon for my heart, wounded by loss and grieving, to heal and consider. My mate was a match, loving, firm brother in every way; how now would I betray the memory of such by accepting another?
The prick of tears in my eyes sent me silently cursing for such a weakness. It was not a time or place, not with a war on full-scale activity in front of me and my people bleeding and dying, but neither did I wrench my gaze from him.
The Moon Goddess is a cruel person.
My mind painted a picture of a pungent ache bursting through my heart, everything to me the face of the first one, warmth in a smiled glance, fierce loyalty-but he is gone now, in death managing to somehow carve into my chest something that will never fully seal back. I thought now, of how he should've stood beside me proudly today, rigid and stern with unfounded menace in his stance. How different would the situation seem?
I didn't want this, and would not take another mate.
A tear rolled down my cheek and wasn't caught until it reached the ground.
"Alpha!" someone called behind me, though their voice was drowned out by the roar of the battle.
I was too lost in my thoughts, too consumed by the impossible reality before me. How could this be? How could the Moon Goddess expect me to accept this?
A sudden movement brought me back to the present as the silver wolf's eyes widened in alarm, launching him forward.
"Careful!" he roared.
Before I could move, something huge slammed against my back, claws ripping down my side. Agonizing pain exploded through me as I crumpled to the ground, my lungs emptied. The smell of my blood filled my nostrils as I tried to rise, but the weight upon me pinned me down.
And then his voice yelled out again, sharp and commanding.
"Careful!"
The world spun, the darkness t
hreatening to swallow me whole, and his desperate yell was the last thing I heard.