Page 30 of Sun's Roar

Mitesh bowed slightly, his eyes twinkling with wisdom. “It’s an honor to meet you, Luna. I’ve waited centuries for this day.”

“Centuries?” Helena’s eyebrows shot up.

“Indeed. The last human-born Luna was over three hundred years ago.” Mitesh gestured to the table laden with books. “Her story is detailed here, along with everything we know about the fire powers you possess.”

Helena ran her fingers over an ancient leather-bound tome. “I must admit, this is all pretty overwhelming.”

“Well then, let’s start with the basics. The power that connects Alpha and Luna is sacred,” Mitesh explained, opening one of the books to reveal illustrations of flames intertwining with wolf silhouettes. “Your fire doesn’t just exist alongside Sol’s wolf—it enhances it and makes it stronger. And in turn, his presence will help you control your flames.”

Helena glanced at Sol, who watched her with that intensity that made her breath catch.

“When you claimed her last night,” Mitesh continued, seemingly oblivious to Helena’s blush, “the mate bond grew stronger. You’ll both notice changes in your abilities.”

Sol nodded. “I felt it this morning. My wolf is...more present and more powerful.”

After an hour of explanations that left Helena’s head spinning, Mitesh excused himself. Sol closed the book they’d been examining and took her hand.

“Enough theory for now. Let’s see the gardens.” His thumb traced circles on her palm. “Fresh air will help clear your mind.”

The summer air greeted them with a kiss of warmth as they stepped outside. Helena gasped at the sight of meticulously maintained gardens stretching as far as she could see—roses climbing stone walls, fountains sparkling in the sunlight, and hidden alcoves promising privacy.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

Sol tucked her hair behind her ear. “Not as beautiful as you with the sun on your hair.”

Sol guided Helena through the immaculately maintained gardens. Her fingertips trailed over velvet rose petals and smooth stone balustrades as they walked. Each turn revealed another breathtaking view—sculptures nestled among flowering bushes and koi ponds glimmering beneath weeping willows. She couldn’t reconcile the man beside her with this fairy tale setting. A wolf prince with his own castle and gardens straight out of a storybook.

“Did you design all this?” she asked, gesturing at a particularly stunning arrangement of blue delphiniums.

“I’ve had centuries to perfect it.” Sol’s hand found her lower back, guiding her toward a stone path that led away from the formal gardens. “But the forest beyond—that’s where I feel most at home.”

As they ventured into the woods, Helena felt the shift in the air—cooler and richer with earthy scents. Sol moved with unmistakable confidence, occasionally glancing back to make sure she was keeping pace.

“Where exactly are we going?” She stepped over a fallen log, admiring how the dappled sunlight played across the forest floor.

“Somewhere you can practice without burning down my castle.” His eyes glinted with mischief. “Unless that was your plan all along?”

Helena laughed. “I think I’ve caused enough destruction for now.”

They soon emerged into a clearing where a stone fire pit sat at the center, surrounded by what looked like purposefully arranged seating logs. The space felt ancient—sacred, somehow—with the trees forming a perfect circle around them.

“Our ancestors have used this clearing for fire ceremonies for thousands of years.” Sol’s voice deepened with reverence. “I can’t think of a better place for you to connect with your power.”

Helena approached the fire pit cautiously, her palms suddenly warm with anticipation. “How do I start?”

Sol positioned himself behind her, his chest pressing against her back as he took her hands in his. “Close your eyes. Feel the heat beneath your skin.”

His breath tickled her ear, sending a delicious shiver through her body. Helena closed her eyes, suddenly aware of every point where their bodies connected—his hands cradling hers, his thighs against the back of her legs, and his chest expanding against her shoulders with each breath.

“Now picture the flames,” he murmured, “rising from your core, traveling through your veins to your fingertips.”

Heat bloomed inside her, not unlike the desire she’d felt in his bed, but wilder—more ancient. It gathered in her chest then raced down her arms in thrilling waves.

“I can feel it,” she whispered, her voice catching.

“Direct it toward the fire pit. Let it go, Helena.”

When she opened her eyes, flames danced from her fingertips, arcing gracefully into the pit where they caught the kindling. The fire roared to life, higher than she expected, and Helena gasped in delight.

---