Embers In The North

For a fleeting moment, she could only stare at him.

Why would the Alpha sneak into Egranox when the House of Moltenroar expected him and his retinue? It defied logic. If he had infiltrated with an entire Fleet to foment discord, that would have made more sense. Yet, there he stood, accompanied by only three Omegas—individuals she had already taken a dislike to.

“And who, might I inquire, are you?” His voice echoed like the moon’s call on a frosty winter eve.

A strange vibration rippled through her, akin to an arcane melody brushing against her soul and lingering at her fingertips. His eyes, like the midnight moon in a sky bereft of stars, bore an intensity that pierced her core. As he leisurely removed his gloves, an ostensibly casual action that carried an aura of authority, her heart quickened.

“I am the Prime Commander of Frostcall,” she replied. “You should keep those on,” she cautioned. “Frostbite isn’t fun. Not to mention, combat becomes quite the challenge without fingers.”

A smirk spread across Alpha Roth’s face, seemingly unfazed by Reyna’s warning. He discarded his gloves with an air of indifference, all the while maintaining an unbroken lock of his steel gaze upon her. Under his intense scrutiny, her limbs became as pliable as liquid.

The allure of his eyes was overwhelming, captivating her senses to the extent that she could not avert her gaze, contrary to convention. Protocol dictated that she should fix her gaze on the ground while addressing the Alpha, avoiding any semblance of direct eye contact.

She should bow, that much she knew. Averting her gaze would also be appropriate, a gesture of respect owed to the Alpha. But she couldn't bring herself to do either. It wasn't that his eyes were spellbinding, though they were. It was the fact that he was a Maynord, and everything within her rebelled against acknowledging that in any way.

As a female, whether Prime or not, it was expected that she remain in a subservient posture, refraining from speaking with the Alpha of the Wild Lands unless spoken to. It was among the reasons she had always held a slight disregard for the intricacies of her role as Prime; she refused to diminish her self-respect for anyone, even the Alpha. Her reverence was solely reserved for Odin; no one else earned such deference.

“Is this the manner in which you address the Alpha of Aupheadia, you uncultured female?” Among the trio accompanying Alpha Roth, one stood out as a bald, clean-shaven figure consumed by rage.

His fury manifested itself as he vehemently pointed a finger at Reyna, his large blade thrust forward in emphasis. Even with his disdainful growl, she held her ground.

“Eyes down, head bowed, and greet the Alpha of the Wild Lands, lest your head find itself parted from your shoulders!” the bald Rotbrain roared.

Reyna knew the Omegas, as second-in-command to the Alpha, held significant authority too. They were a private Fleet of five, serving as his inner council. Keeping with tradition, she owed them reverence as well. It didn’t matter what their authority was, she wouldn’t bow to it.

Reyna’s jaw set in a resolute line, her eyes burning with defiance as she directed a searing glare at the provocateur who lingered beside Alpha Roth. The Alpha himself remained composed, observing the escalating clash stoically. Positioned on either side of him, the other two wolves watched the unfolding confrontation.

“Make me.” She dared the bald troublemaker, her voice dripping with simmering ire as she felt her Ember ability ignite.

“Dismiss your Shadowbeast, and perhaps I’ll be inclined to oblige,” he taunted, audaciously striding forward past Alpha Roth.

Reyna cast a sidelong glance at Ator, who obeyed her unspoken command and disappeared into the shadows. “Now, you ugly prissy cunt, come forth and try to make me acknowledge an Alpha who allied himself with Berserkers to secretly infiltrate my territory—a deed for which he has yet to apologize. Isn’t that a glaring show of disregard, Redfall?”

“I will strike you where you stand, you insolent wretch,” he growled in contempt.

He surged forward, his fingers stretching like talons towards her throat. Reyna's combat instincts ignited, a surge of adrenaline sharpening her senses as she assessed the imminent threat. With an almost preternatural fluidity, she evaded his grasp, her body moving with a dancer's grace.

But he was fast.

In a split second, he grounded himself, the subtle shift of his stance enabling a swift recovery. His fingers found their mark, wrapping around the back of her throat with a controlled grip that sent a jolt of awareness coursing through her. A reminder of his power as an Omega—a force akin to the Warmasters, and in many instances, even more potent.

But she didn't falter. Her mind raced, assessing her options even as his calculated manoeuvre persisted. His strength was undeniable as he drew her to him in one pull. And as his leg hooked around hers in a rapid and strategic motion, her balance was compromised.

Her body instinctively responded to the force, her equilibrium wavering for a fleeting moment. It was a calculated attempt to force her onto her knees; a display of dominance laced with an implicit challenge. Reyna's eyes narrowed as realization dawned upon her and she snarled in response.

With her core strength, she channelled her native ability. Planting her foot firmly against the ground, she invoked the very essence of Frostcall's power. The snow beneath them reacted, its frosty grip answering her call with an almost primal intensity.

The energy surged through her body, and she felt the frost obeying her command, enveloping the Omega's legs. His grip on her throat faltered as his movements became constrained by the sudden icy hold. Confusion clouded his features, his brow furrowing as he struggled to comprehend what was happening.

Capitalizing on his momentary distraction, Reyna regained control and slipped out of his hold. She spun around to face him. A blade was in her hand now, its gleaming edge poised at the base of his throat.

The cold touch of the metal against his skin provoked a low, guttural snarl. "Thank your damned Frosty terrain, you mannerless cunt!"

Reyna's grip on the blade tightened. "They have my gratitude, lousy prick!"

Before he could react, she delivered a forceful kick to his gut with an audible grunt. She intended to send him sprawling into the snow, but his resilience thwarted her plan. Instead of being completely knocked off balance, he staggered back a couple of steps, his feet digging into the snow to regain his footing.

With an angry growl, he regained his equilibrium, his eyes locked on Reyna with unbridled fury. Reyna held her ground, not cowering away from his rage. She glared right back at him, tingling in her bones at the chance to finally face off with an Omega.

"House of Maynord or not," she continued, "your intrusion into Egranox remains an affront. I am well within my rights to defend my city and its lands."

“Daring to disrespect the Alpha and challenge an Omega?” one of his companions beside Alpha Roth interjected, his voice carrying a frigid edge that sliced through the air like a chilling blade. “Such impertinence demands punishment.”

The threat of punishment held little weight unless it came directly from the Alpha himself. Even though it would be suicide to take on three Omegas, she was not opposed to it; with her abilities, she stood a good chance. Her sharp gaze moved with calculated precision, from one Omega to the next as the bald one stepped back into the fold. Yet, it was Alpha Roth who held her unwavering attention.

Reyna’s rebuttal was sharp. “You lecture on disrespect while conveniently ignoring your faults in this. Whether it be the House of Maynord or another, no one is above the laws of Egranox. Spare me from this bullshit about impertinence. You brought this upon yourselves!”

“How do you account for your disrespect toward me, Prime?” Roth’s voice resonated, its timbre rumbling through her, and she fought against a shiver.

What was this strange sensation?

“Last I checked, we’re standing in Silver Oak. Where you trespassed into my territory and still have the audacity to sling insults at me, all because you bear the name of the House of Maynord,” she retorted. Her blade found its place once more on her thigh strap. “By the grace of Odin, Icehelms do not honour insolence, even if you are the Alpha.”

He hadn’t even made an effort to quell the disturbance; what a contemptible Alpha!

If it were any other intruders, they would have been subdued and dragged through the snow to the Egranox citadel. But, he was the Alpha, and that distinction held little weight in her eyes; she was certain they already knew that.

“You’re only a Prime. To be so blatantly rude to the House of Maynord will cost you that title and prestige. Do you not know that?” Roth asked. “You deem it wise to speak to me in such a manner?” Roth inquired, a mocking smile tugging at his lips.

Only a Prime? Wise? Reyna almost snorted. She, who had risen through the ranks to become the first female Prime Commander at just twenty-four, was more than capable of holding her own in this discussion. The casual dismissal of her accomplishments infuriated her.

The spark of irritation flared into a fiery retort. “I don’t need a lesson in honour from the House of Maynord; you seem to have forgotten what honour meant the last time you invaded the North!” she shot back, her voice measured and deliberate. “Roth of House Maynord, remember that my title was earned in Frostcall and isn’t subject to your… authority.”

“Wisdom seems elusive when one disregards the House of Maynord’s reputation and expects to get away with it.” Roth challenged.

“Are you looking for trouble, Alpha?” she asked in annoyance, with a death stare on her face.

Alpha Roth’s smile sent an unexpected shiver down Reyna’s spine, almost making her melt. But her assertion had flabbergasted the other Redfalls, who now stared at her with incredulous disbelief. The intricacies of Kingdom politics held no sway over her; she was bent on voicing her thoughts, regardless of the potential fallout. The most they could do was attempt to reprimand her. Accomplishing that, however, would require a Herculean effort on their part.

“Alpha, permit me to put this insolent female in her proper place,” the other Omega hissed.

Similar to Roth, the others were struggling with the biting cold. Tremors ran through them, and their breath formed misty clouds in the frigid air. Their noses were reddened by the chill, and they buried their hands deep in their pockets for warmth.

As Reyna gave Alpha Roth a scathing once over, she couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t kept his gloves on. Perhaps he could use a dose of the wisdom he so confidently spoke about, though she knew Mimir would never grant such insight to a Maynord.

“The Warmaster and Commanders await your arrival at the citadel. You might want to hurry to the Mithril Obelisk before the storm buries you. Perhaps then we can discuss teaching you your place, Redfall,” Reyna smiled as she replied.

He growled and moved toward her, but Reyna’s anger was ripe and ablaze. Her Ember flared, conjuring a ring of fire around the Redfall wolves. The blaze disoriented them, forcing them to huddle. Though her intention was to intimidate them, she knew it would also ease their freezing bones. Her influence over the flames went unnoticed.

Through the dancing flames, Reyna noticed Alpha Roth’s mismatched eyes fixating on her, almost as if he sensed her connection to the fire. Her magical abilities left no physical traces, and detection was practically impossible. Yet, as the fire surged and raged, and the Omegas around him grew increasingly agitated, Roth stood motionless, his gaze locked on her. Could the rumoured Maynord mind-reading gift be true, with those uniquely coloured eyes?

Reyna shuddered, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the cold night air. She quickly averted her gaze, and the moment passed. But she couldn’t help but feel that, in that moment, Alpha Roth had seen inside her.

With a final, vicious glare at Alpha Roth, Reyna redirected her attention, summoning Ator. Her Shadowbeast bowed for her to mount, and once she was astride, Ator propelled them back toward the Mithril Obelisk — the heart of Egranox’s citadel.