Born From The Ash

CHAPTER 1

THIRD PERSON'S POV

The wind howled through the trees like a grieving widow, low and sharp as it swept across the borderlands.

Aria Ashborne stood on a jagged outcrop of stone, her cloak snapping around her ankles as she surveyed the distant shimmer of firelight in the valley below.

Another rogue camp. Another reminder that the world she once knew had turned its back on her

She hadn't been Alpha-blood in years-not since the day they dragged her father into the Council pit and branded him a traitor.

Not since the night their home burned and the mark of Ashborne was struck from every stone in their territory. And she was forced to run away with her younger brother, and leave her beloved family to turn to ashes.

Now, she is a shadow. A ghost. A weapon wrapped in skin and silence. A waiting fire to burn down each and everyone who's responsible for her family's downfall.

Behind her, a low growl rumbles, she turns to find David, a massive black wolf with a scar running down his muzzle, stepping out of the trees.

"Trespassers on the northern ridge." He said, shifting mid-stride into his human form. "Scouts. Council has sent."

Aria's jaw clenched and her fists tightened on her sides. "How close are they?"

"Too close." David answered, looking at her leaving.

She moved fast, the conversation already forgotten as she stalked through the woods toward their camp.

The others were there, Cera, always sharp with a blade and sharper with her tongue. Jax, quiet and twitchy, but deadly with traps. And Mira, the healer who spoke more to herbs than to people.

And last but not the least, her three years younger brother, Alexander- Alex Ashborne, dangerously silent and sly like a fox, but a golden retriever for his sister and friends.

This was her pack now. Not by blood, not by name. By survival. Just them.

"We'll move east before sunrise. They're coming again!" Aria informs them, standing in the middle of them. "Pack light. No fire tonight." She instructed.

"Let them come." Cera hiss, scrunching her nose in displeasure. "I'm sick of running."

Aria met her eyes, her gaze hard and firm. "So am I. But we're not ready, not yet." She says, gritting her teeth.

"We understand you, Ash, and we're not complaining about it." Alexander says, smiling at her, while strapping a sharp dagger around his ankles.

She smiles and turns to leave to pack her things. They start to pack important things, some food, herbs, weapons they have and other stuff.

Later, beneath the canopy of stars, twenty three years old Aria sat alone with her dagger. She ran her thumb over the hilt, carved with the Ashborne crest. The only piece she hadn't let go.

The forest whispered her name. Not the one given by the Goddess. The one forged in fire exile. Rogue Traitor's spawn.

She closed her eyes, and for a moment, she remembered what it felt like