Page 2 of Wolf Marked

“Let’s just get across,” Astrid muttered, turning around. Sadness seeped into her bones. Maybe she wasn’t taking this as seriously as she should. Maybe she should be more active in searching for love and breaking the curse. But the men in their pack were more like family than anything else. Her father had always said the sky spirits would lead her to love, like it had for him and her mother, and Filip and Mila. It couldn’t be forced or hunted. Astrid wanted to believe it, that a love strong enough to break the curse was possible for her, too.

Filip nodded but remained silent as they jumped onto the riverbank. Once they were on land, his long strides gained him the lead again.

Every unspoken word filled the space between them, and she hurried, trying to keep up.

A breeze rushed by, whipping cold against her cheeks. Desperate for conversation, something to take their attention away from her mistake, she racked her brain for a change of subject.

“Will Mikel be angry to see us unexpected like this?” Astrid didn’t know much about the other wolf packs or the older alpha, Mikel, only that her father tried hard to keep peace with them and respect their boundaries. Since their group was made up mostly of young families, it was better not to pick a fight with the others.

“He shouldn’t be,” Filip replied as they walked on. His attention stayed straight ahead. “There has been a lot of talk about Jerrick’s pack threatening the others, challenging alphas, and taking over. Father wants to make sure Mikel’s pack isn’t one of them.”

She’d heard of the brutish alpha, Jerrick, many times when listening in on her father’s discussions with his men. When he was only sixteen, he’d won rule over his pack after challenging the previous alpha, his own father. According to stories, he didn’t even flinch when he ripped out his throat. After that, he and his pack had settled far north in the high mountains.

“Father thinks Jerrick wants to be the sole alpha. Rule over all our kind.”

There was no way their father would let that happen. Let alone every alpha. Too much power in the hands of one man was dangerous.

The smoky scent of a snuffed fire filled Astrid’s nose. They had to be close.

“Mikel’s camp should be up here.” Her brother answered her thoughts. The trees thinned ahead, and their sparse stick-branches allowed the sunlight to spill into the woods. The rays reflected off the whiteness of the snow and made the ground twinkle. A short hill,blanketed in a thick layer of white, blocked their view of what lay beyond. “Just over this.”

Filip began the climb up, and Astrid followed a few steps behind. “We need to find out more information about what’s going on for Father,” he said as he neared the top. “Then we can leave. Hopefully all rumors—” But his words died the moment he reached the snowy knoll’s peak. He stared down at something she couldn’t see.

“Filip?” Confused, Astrid bounded from one of his deep footsteps to the other.

He whipped around, his cheeks pale and his eyes full of fear. His panic was so strong, it traveled along their pack bond and shook her core. “Turn back, Ash. Now.”

It was too late. She had already reached the crest.

Gazing down at the small valley below, her chest constricted. She had expected to see a camp much like the one they lived in, with temporary cabins made of canvas and hides, and scattered fires with people hovering over them, cooking or telling stories. Instead, smoldering piles of wood and ash dotted the freshly fallen snow. Along with the scent of fire, the pungent stench of seared flesh smacked into her, stinging her eyes. No men or women. No movement of any kind. Astrid’s pulse raced.

The wind whistled through the wide-open vale.

“We need to go.” Filip’s firm hand was on her arm, tugging her back down the hill, but her knees locked her in place. Black mounds peeked out of the white snow.

“W-What is that?” But before he answered, she spotted a soot-covered foot sticking out of one of the piles.

Nausea racked her gut as her gaze swept over the others. Bodies. There were about a dozen of them on the surface alone, blackened and charred. People turned to cinders.

Dead. Mikel’s pack was dead.

Please don’t let any of them be children.Thinking about it made her dizzy.

How many lay underneath the snow, out of sight, covered by the recent storm?

“What monster would do this?” She choked, her throat tight. “All those innocent people…”

“Jerrick.” Filip’s voice shook with rising panic. “His pack may be nearby. Ours might be next.” He turned and rushed down the hill. “We have to tell Father.”

“We should check for survivors,” she shouted to his turned back. “Maybe someone ran into the forest to escape. They might need our help.”

“We can’t risk it, Ash. We need to go back.”

He was right. Jerrick’s pack had to be close, and if they had done this to Mikel’s people, she didn’t want to think what they’d do if they found them wandering around. It was smarter to leave before they were caught, but she couldn’t stop the sinking feeling inside.

Throwing one more glance over her shoulder at the wreckage, movement caught her eye. A mound of white trembled.

Astrid spun and dashed down the hill. The steepness had her stumbling; she caught herself near the bottom and rushed forward, gaze focused on the hump dusted with ash just ahead of her. A muffled whimper teased her ear. She barreled toward it.

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