Page 1 of From Frost to Flame

Chapter One

Silas

The fae were scentlessif they weren’t bleeding. This made them almost impossible for werewolves to track.

Almost.

Luckily for King Silas, Alpha of Orion’s royal pack, a torn wing or two made most fae betray each other. Loosened lips told him Arden was hiding somewhere in the chaotic, crownless land of Dionysus.

The moment the sun dipped behind the castle, Silas slipped out of Orion’s silver gates and went on the hunt. The journey to or from Dionysus took at least a day, due to the treacherous, snowcapped Garros Mountains that enclosed it on the east and the raging Atlas Sea that wrapped around the west.

Silas had lied to his pack and claimed to be making a quick stop in the centaur’s realm, Chiron. It brought little question since the tenuous treaty between them required constant maintenance. If he were gone more than three days without a word, at least one pack member would grow suspicious, which meant every passing second was precious.

“Why did it have to be the Genesis Festival?” Silas growled as he and Castor weaved through the overly crowded cobblestone streets. Tightly packed apartments and shops worn by time made the streets akin to a narrow labyrinth. Even thinner alleyways branched off the main roads like spindly veins.

Humans and nonhumans draped in colorful dresses and suits bumped into Silas's shoulders as he struggled to move through the dense current of bodies. Every time he was jostled, his patience further unraveled.

For the past five-hundred years, the Genesis festival was held to celebrate the sealing of The Ravenous One in Tartarus, freeing the world of Vela from her cruel reign.

Out of the blood, ice, and ashes, the surviving nonhumans made a violent dash for land and resources. The werewolves, the greatest warriors, claimed the largest and most prosperous realm, Orion.

At the other end of the spectrum was the shadowy city of Dionysus, home to the rest of the creatures that were too weak or too small in numbers to steal land at the end of the war. Vampires, pixies, succubi, incubi, witches, and humans were permanent residents. Nonhumans from established realms settled in Dionysus when running from the law or rejecting their ruling class. This led to a steady slew of misfits that, unless very well paid, minded their business and threw the best festivals in all of Vela.

As the night of debauchery rolled on, drunken humans wearing festival masks to hide their identities wandered into the gluttonous clutches of nonhumans. Blood and cheers would fill the streets until morning light.

It was a human celebration, and a nonhuman feast.

Silas enjoyed neither.

A rapid succession of fireworks shot over the pitched terracotta rooftops and shook the street as fiery rainbows splashed against the midnight sky. Humans hollered in excitement while Silas clutched his ringing ears. “Who enjoys this nonsense?”

“Human feeders, those who want to disappear, and those who like to have fun.” Castor flashed a smile at a pretty witch who strutted by. “But, you know, I think this outing may actually be good for you.”

“Well, you are wrong occasionally,” Silas mumbled under his breath.

Castor was Silas's older brother and royal advisor. He was a brawny man with a bit of a belly and arms wrapped in bulging muscles. Everywhere he went, heads turned as he strutted at over six feet tall. His black toga with golden stitching along the edges barely contained his powerful physique most days. Even his muscular thighs and calves were notable in his tight black pants. His short cinnamon waves, lopsided smile, and amber eyes gave him a boyish charm. Parties and people always came easier to him, and a twinge of envy hit Silas tonight as he watched him carelessly stroll.

“Do you see Arden or not?” Silas asked. He crinkled his nose at the heavy scent of booze and smoke in the air. “I want to find him before the pack gets too curious about our absence.”

“I told you we should have waited to follow the lead until after the festival. You’re the one who insisted.”

“I insisted because I’m running out of time.”

“You’re not running out of time, you’re just being impatient, as always. Anyway, as I was saying, this is good for you. You’ve been locked in the castle for decades. Let’s linger before we head back. We could get a drink or head to the square for some dancing. When was the last time you had some fun? You know, you’ll never find your mate if you stay inside all day.”

“There are political agreements to maintain and rations to measure out,” Silas responded. He pushed through humans dancing in the middle of the street to jaunty music. “I don’t have time for recreational travel. And I certainly don’t have time for a mate.”

Castor brought up his lack of social life every few weeks. Each time, Silas gave some duty related half-truth. It usually worked, but tonight, his brother was annoyingly persistent.

“You’re too busy to enjoy one night?”

“Contrary to what you believe, keeping the seven clans safe and prosperous takes time. Not to mention our own pack is rather needy.” A cannon on a roof boomed, and a swarm of pink flower petals rained down. Silas swatted at them, but it didn’t stop a few from hitting him square in the face. He took a long breath to stop himself from exploding. “If you’re bored with your duties and want a vacation, go ahead. I won’t stop you. Personally, I would suggest a quieter place.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it.” Castor placed a hand on Silas's shoulder and squeezed. “You can lie to others in the pack, but not to me. I know when something is weighing on your mind.”

Silas shrugged him off and kept moving forward. “Not being able to track Arden by scent is becoming more of a burden than I expected. I foolishly underestimated the number of people who would be here tonight. We need to find a faster way to search.”

“You’re really going to change the subject like a child?”

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