Fated Mate to the Triplet Alpha-Chapter 22: Hidden Flames

Selene ran after Dante, her silver dress fluttering behind her as they pushed through the panicked crowd. The beautiful Moon Festival had changed into chaos within seconds. Pack members scattered in all directions, some running to help Lyra who lay twitching on the ground, others grabbing weapons as howls of alarm spread through the night. "There!" Selene pointed to a flash of Elara’s red hair going into the forest, pulling Ivy along like a rag doll. A huge roar stopped them in their tracks.

From the opposite end of the opening, dark shapes burst through the trees – at least twenty wolves with matted fur and wild eyes. "Rogues," Dante growled, his body immediately shifting to battle stance. "They’re attacking from the north entrance!" Jace appears at their side, already half-shifted. "Alpha, they’ve surrounded the entire party grounds. This was planned." Selene’s blood ran cold. "It’s a distraction. Elara knew exactly when to grab Ivy." Dante’s eyes flashed with dangerous rage. "Jace, take the eastern side. I’ll handle the north." He turned to Selene, his face stone-cold but his eyes burning with something she couldn’t name. "Find your sister. Stay hidden." Before she could answer, Dante shifted fully into his massive black wolf form, his shoulders reaching her waist. With a bone-chilling howl that called his troops to battle, he charged toward the attackers. The pack responded quickly, shifting and forming battle lines as the rogues poured into the festival grounds. Tables overturned, lanterns broke, and screams filled the air as claws tore into flesh. Selene paused, torn between helping the pack and chasing after Ivy. A woman’s scream made her choice – a young mother clutching her child was cornered by a snarling rogue wolf. Without thinking, Selene grabbed a fallen torch and ran toward them. The rogue turned, lips curling back to show yellowed fangs dripping with saliva. He lunged at Selene, but she was faster, dodging sideways and swinging the torch. The wolf yelped as fire singed his fur. "Run!" she yelled to the mother, who scooped up her child and fled. The rogue recovered quickly, circling Selene with murderous purpose. Two more joined him, their eyes gleaming with bloodlust. Selene backed away, her heart pounding against her ribs. The light wouldn’t hold them off for long. She needed to shift, but there was no time to remove her dress, and she’d be vulnerable during change. "Look what we found," one of the rogues growled, shifting partly to speak.

"The Alpha’s little mate, all alone." Fear clawed at her throat, but Selene stood her ground. "You picked the wrong pack to attack." The rogues laughed, a harsh sound that sent chills down her spine. "Your pack is finished. The Blackthorn line ends tonight." They rushed her at once. Selene swung the torch wildly, but a heavy paw knocked it from her grip. Sharp claws raked her arm, tearing through cloth and skin. Pain blazed through her, hot and fierce. "Ivy," she whispered, thinking of her little sister as she fell backward. Something stirred inside Selene – a burning feeling that started in her chest and spread outward like wildfire through her veins. The pain in her arm vanished, replaced by a surge of strength she’d never felt before. Time seemed to slow as her vision sharpened, colors increasing until the world glowed with unnatural clarity. Her fingers tingled, then burned. "What’s happening to her?" one of the rogues asked, suddenly unsure. Flames erupted from Selene’s hands – not from any torch, but from her own skin. Blue-white fire danced along her arms, sending eerie shadows across her face. Selene stared at her hands in shock. This was impossible. Wolves didn’t control fire. The rogues backed away, fear replacing their previous confidence. "Witch!" one screamed. Acting on gut, Selene thrust her hands forward. Fire shot out in a strong blast, engulfing the nearest rogue. He howled in pain as flames consumed his fur. The other two turned to flee, but Selene was consumed by rage now, thinking of Ivy in danger, of Lyra poisoned, of the pack under attack. More fire poured from her hands, swirling around the rogues like a living thing, trapping them in a ring of blue flames. All around the clearing, fighting stopped as wolves turned to stare at the unbelievable sight. Selene Blackthorn, standing unhurt in the middle of magical fire, her eyes glowing like molten gold.

Through the flames, she spotted Dante in his wolf form, frozen mid-attack, his eyes locked on her with a look of disbelief. The distraction nearly cost him his life. A huge gray rogue leapt at him from behind, jaws aimed for his throat. "Dante!" Selene screamed, reflexively throwing out her hand. A whip of flame shot across the open, wrapping around the attacking rogue and yanking him away from Dante. The wolf crashed to the ground, yelping as fire sizzled against his fur. The remaining rogues broke formation, fleeing into the forest with terrified howls. Within moments, the attack was over, leaving behind only the hurt and the dead. Silence fell over the clearing as all eyes turned to Selene. The fire around her dimmed, then flickered out, leaving her standing alone with her torn dress and her revealed secret. Dante changed back to human form, uncaring of his nakedness as he stalked toward her. His face was unreadable, muscles tight under his skin. "What are you?" he asked, stopping just short of touching her. Selene shook her head, trembling from tiredness and fear. "I don’t know. This never happened before." Whispers spread through the watching pack. Some backed away, making old signs against evil. Others looked on with awe or calculation. "She’s a fire-walker," an old voice called out. Old Mira, the pack’s historian, pushed through the crowd. "The stories are true. The Blackthorn line carries the old gift." "Gift?" Jace questioned, moving to stand beside his Alpha. "Or curse?" Selene’s legs gave out, and she sank to her knees, suddenly spent. She looked up at Dante, expecting disgust or fear. Instead, his expression had changed to something more complex – a mixture of wonder and worry that made her heart skip. "Ivy," Selene whispered, remembering her goal. "Elara took Ivy." Dante knelt beside her, surprising everyone by taking her hands – the same hands that had made magical fire moments ago. "We’ll find her," he promised, his voice low and angry. "But first, we need to understand what you are." Before Selene could answer, a chilling howl echoed from deep in the forest – not a wolf’s cry, but something twisted and wrong. It was followed by a child’s scream that cut off suddenly. "Ivy!" Selene tried to stand, but her strength had abandoned her. Dante caught her as she swayed. "You’re tired. The fire takes a toll." "How do you know that?" she asked. His eyes met hers, something ancient and sad hiding in their golden depths. "Because my first mate was like you. And it killed her."

The pack gasped collectively at this news. Dante had never spoken of his first mate, the hurt too deep to touch. From the trees emerged a figure Selene recognized with fear – her mother, or something wearing her mother’s face. She glided into the clearing, her feet not quite touching the ground. "The fire-walker awakens," the apparition said in a voice that echoed strangely. "Just as planned." Dante pushed Selene behind him protectively, facing the newcomer with a snarl. "What are you?" The thing wearing her mother’s face smiled, the expression stretching strangely wide. "The question isn’t what I am, Alpha." Her gaze fixed on Selene, eyes turning totally black. "It’s what she’ll become when the curse fully blooms." The apparition’s body began to shimmer and fade into shadow. "Bring the fire-walker to the old temple by midnight tomorrow. Come alone, or the child dies." Her smile widened impossibly further. "And this time, she’ll stay dead." As quickly as it began, the night fell silent again. Selene looked around at the faces of her pack – some scared, others curious, all forever changed by what they’d witnessed. Dante stood rigid beside her, his face a mask of controlled anger. But when he helped her to her feet, his touch was gentle. "You have magic in your blood," he said quietly. "Magic I’ve seen destroy someone I loved once before." Selene met his eyes steadily despite her exhaustion. "I won’t let it destroy me. And I won’t let Ivy die again." Something changed in Dante’s eyes – respect, fear, or perhaps something deeper. "Rest tonight," he ordered, though his voice had lost its normal coldness. "Tomorrow, we hunt." As the pack dispersed to care their wounded, Selene couldn’t shake the feeling that everything had changed. Her powers revealed, her sister taken, and worst of all, the knowledge that she carried a curse that had already claimed one of Dante’s loves. The Moon Festival was over, but the real dance – between power and control, love and duty – had only just started.