Page 13 of Wolf’s Fated Bride

Even if Sven did try to kill Ash, I can’t tell if my sister knew about the attempted assassination. If I had to, I would bet that she didn’t, but judging by the success rate of my bets in the past twenty-four hours, I’m probably wrong.

It turns out that my sister and I have secrets. Last month, Maren turned twenty-nine, and I’m twenty-seven, so I guess it’s time we kept our own big-girl secrets to ourselves. I didn’t think we needed to outgrow our sisterhood or our pact that says we can’t keep secrets from each other.

It’s also possible we’re not outgrowing each other, and I’m being dramatic as always. I doubt it, though. Old promises to me might collapse under the weight of new promises made to her man.

And what about Ash? Women expect men to be loyal to us. So it’s equally reasonable to expect us to be loyal to our men. Otherwise, we’re hypocrites.

“I didn’t see Sven during the ceremony,” I lie. “Was he there?”

“He left before we signed. I’m sure it was painful for him to watch.” Maren picks up my hand. “Your burn is still red. Does it hurt?”

I shake my head. “It should be healed by tomorrow.”

“Do you think the Fireborn Alpha burns hot like that all the time, or did he flare up during the signing?”

“I’m not sure,” I tell her. “Are you scared of him?”

Maren nods.

“Me too.” But not for the same reason.

Chapter 6

Ash

Peter, my Regulator, creates medicine that dampens the fire I carry. It’s alchemy formulated especially for me. Before we arrived in Stormcrest territory, we debated the dosage I should take the first night I’m around my enemies, and he suggested six times the normal dose. Just in case, I took seven vials.

In comparison, the other two elemental wolves take a single vial of medicine daily. The recommended threshold is three vials at the most.

When seven fail to help me control my element, the treatment is considered a failure, and that failure gives me the right to seek another Regulator. But Peter is three years shy of the retirement he’s been dreaming about the entire time I’ve known him.

In the human territories, they train people to work for a system designed to suck the life out of them, so that when the life they’ve worked for finally arrives, they don’t live long enough to enjoy it.

Unlike most, Peter lived in wolf territory. His life expectancy is much higher. His doctor admitted it’s because he “ran with the wolves.”

Peter most certainly didn’t run with us. Humans can’t keep up, but he ate like a carnivore, laughed with us at our many absurd gatherings, and went to bed knowing his family was provided for. Having fun while on the job is underrated. It shouldn’t be. We spend most of our lives working.

Since my work as a carrier of fire involves making sure that my element is contained, I can’t ignore what happened last night. Heat shouldn’t have churned in my blood so freely. Even after the signing, I couldn’t tame the burn with alcohol, no matter how much ale I drank to try to forget about my engagement to the Stormcrest princess.

For all I care, Maren Stormcrest can remain frigid and taciturn toward me. She is welcome to spend her life hoping the flames consume me. Should that happen, the element I carry would jump into another werewolf.

There aren’t a lot of alphas left in the world who are able to contain this element, even though there are plenty who think they can. Unfortunately for Maren and the rest of the world that wants me dead, the fire is clinging to me, probably for life.

The wooden bed groans under my weight as I sit and rub the back of my neck. I massage it, hoping it will ease the headache I woke up with this morning.

Maybe I just need to move around for a while.

The Stormcrest pack assigned us an entire tower in their lavish castle. We even have natural hot-water baths, and I intend to take advantage of the facilities. The water might even cool this burning inside me.

I slide on my jeans before I walk out onto the terrace. Wow, the view is stunning: snow-covered mountains, winding roads, predatory birds circling quietly above the fresh tracks in the snow. I check the sun. It’s not yet noon. I didn’t get much sleep, but I didn’t expect to, seeing as how I prefer my own bed.

A freezing wind blows, carrying a dusting of snow that melts as soon as it lands on my skin. It’s negative infinity out here, but I’m running hotter than usual. I’m surprised Peter hasn’t woken me up already with a solution to my flare-up. He’s attentive and one of the finest alchemists who has ever lived. He’s won multiple competitions and awards, something humans care about. They wouldn’t let him near me if he weren’t the very best.

Another gust blows, this one powerful enough to push me back a step. The snow melts, and now my jeans are wet. I grab the railing and purse my lips, wondering how long I’ll have to wear them before they dry.

“What’s the matter, Fireborn? Is our weather upsetting you?”

On the bridge below connecting the castle with the tower we’re staying in, the sister of my promised bride trudges through the snow, carrying fresh linens and towels in a woven basket on her head. Two other females carrying bags snicker.