Chapter 152 Ash and Absolution

Chapter 152 Ash and Absolution
Sienna
The high from our trip back to Clairelle evaporated the second Jordan pulled the sedan up to the private terminal curb. He didn't even get out of the car to grab our bags, sitting behind the wheel with his shoulders hitched high and his knuckles white against the leather.
“Alpha. Sienna. Welcome back,” Jordan said, but his voice was flat.
Sebastian stopped halfway to the passenger door, his gray eyes narrowing. “What is it?”
“It’s the rogues, Alpha,” Jordan said, not bothering to lower his tone. “A faction from their military ranks revolted two hours ago. And Ophelia has been freed.”
The air left my lungs in a sharp gasp. I snapped my head toward Sebastian, but his face had gone completely blank. The gentle warmth, the quiet humor from this morning—it all vanished in a split second, replaced by the calculating, lethal Alpha of Regalia.
“I see,” Sebastian said, his deep voice dropping into that dark, quiet tone he used when war was at the door. “Take us to Tristan immediately.”
The drive into town was quiet. My mind was spinning out of control. How? How could this happen after everything Sebastian offered them? He gave those rogues shelter, a second chance, a real life away from the blood sport they grew up in, and the moment our backs were turned, they turned on the very man who gave them a home.
I bit down on the inside of my lip, the sting keeping me grounded. Was it a mistake from the start? Keeping them here? Integrating them into the pack?
Before I could sort through the thought, a heavy boom rattled the frame of the car.
The blast rocked the sedan, making the tires screech against the pavement as I flinched against my seatbelt.
Through the tinted side window, a cloud of thick black smoke was already billowing into the afternoon sky over the commercial district. Bright orange flames tore through the roofs of the nearby shops, chewing through wood.
My heart hammered in my chest. Not here. Not in the middle of the city.
I looked over at Sebastian. His jaw was set tight, anger burning plain in his eyes.
“Jordan,” Sebastian said. One absolute command.
“Right away, Alpha.”
Jordan threw the wheel hard to the left, the engine roaring as we barreled straight toward the smoke.
When we pulled up, the street was pure chaos. Fire crews were hauling hoses toward the burning row of storefronts, but the flames were jumping fast. Screams echoed over the roar of the fire as medics dragged bloodied, ash covered bodies out onto the pavement. I gripped the door handle until my fingers hurt, praying those people were still breathing.
We hit the pavement the second the car stopped.
“Stay here. Please,” Sebastian said, throwing a brief, firm look over his shoulder.
He didn't wait for me to answer before sprinting into the fray, shouting orders at the crowd and taking control of the perimeter.
My whole body trembled as the smell of burning wood, and smoke hit my nose. The high-pitched wail of sirens mixed with the shrieks of packmates running for their lives.
It was Ophelia. Again. A nightmare that would never leave this pack in peace as long as she was breathing.
I should have killed her when I had the chance.
I clenched my fists, furious and helpless. I took two steps after Sebastian when Jordan’s arm snapped out, blocking me.
“The Alpha explicitly ordered you to stay by the vehicle, Sienna.”
“I might be unemployed, Jordan, but I’m still a healer,” I snapped, shoving his arm away. “Move!”
I pushed right past him, weaving through the panicked crowd toward the sidewalk where the first aiders were setting up. Through the haze, I spotted Cole kneeling beside a civilian, pressing a thick pad against a bloody leg wound.
“Cole! I’m here,” I yelled over the roar of the fire, dropping to my knees beside him.
He looked up, wiping ash off his forehead with the back of his arm. Relief washed over his face. “Goddess, I’m glad you’re here.”
Elizabeth had just given birth days ago. Cole should have been at home holding his baby, but here he was, working until his hands shook because his pack was burning down.
I pushed the thought down and went straight to work—bandaging, stabilizing, getting the worst cases onto stretchers for the hospital transports.
Thankfully, as we moved from person to person, nobody was dead. Horribly burned, cut up by glass, but breathing.
“My son and my wife are still inside!” a man screamed, breaking through the barrier a few feet away. He was hysterical, tears leaving clean streaks through the ash on his face as officers held him back.
Cole abandoned his supply kit and ran over. “Sir, calm down! Give me a description—we might have already put them in an ambulance!”
“No, no, you do not understand!” the man sobbed, pointing a shaking finger toward a shop nearly hidden by orange flames. “My wife... she can't walk! She’s in a wheelchair! They’re inside!”
My stomach dropped as I looked at the burning building. It was the ice cream parlor. The wooden support beams were already groaning under the heat, dropping showers of sparks onto the sidewalk.
How could anyone survive that? What were we supposed to do?
A heavy presence settled next to me. Sebastian had come out of the smoke, his shirt stained dark with ash. “I asked you to remain at the vehicle, Sienna.”
“I’m not standing by while people bleed out,” I said.
He looked down at my ash-covered hands, let out a slow breath, and turned to the sobbing man. “You have my word, Dan. I will not leave them in there. Stay back.”
I stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “Sebastian, wait! It’s collapsing!”
I reached out to grab his arm, desperate to pull him back, but before either of us could step toward the entrance, a shadow stumbled out of the cloud of smoke pouring from the parlor’s shattered window.
It was a man. Or what was left of one.
His clothes were scorched away, his skin blistering from the heat, but he kept moving toward the barrier with heavy, painful steps. Tucked tight against his chest were two small figures, wrapped completely in a dripping-wet blanket.
As he cleared the smoke, I caught sight of his leg—and the heavy metal brace strapped to it.
It was Lando.
He reached the barrier and carefully lowered the wet bundle into the arms of the waiting firefighters. The woman and little boy inside were coughing, terrified, but untouched by the fire.
Lando slowly pulled himself up, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His burnt lips twitched into a faint smirk as his eyes found mine.
“And here I thought...” he rasped out, his voice scraping against the noise of the sirens, “...I could get a taste of ice cream like a normal person.”
Then his eyes rolled back, and he crashed onto the pavement.