Silver Dreams

Prologue

The summer before the Death War
9 years ago

The sky was a shade of the darkest blue, covering everything of Zaelkos underneath its shadow. Despite the darkness of the late evening, others were still awake and dancing in revelry at the Ember Plaza, the main square of the Blazehound territory.

Glasses clinked as the males refilled their cups—and bellies—with apple beers from the pubs. Children held hands as they skipped and sang along with the minstrels. Females twirled and swayed, caught up in the infectious and mirthful melody that played, rising higher as the night went on.

Amidst the joyous chaos, the vendors manning their market stalls were ceaselessly selling their wares to whoever came close. Offering various goods, from savory food to colored fabrics that fluttered in the evening breeze, they skillfully plied their trade. Mostly taking advantage of those who are dead drunk to notice their excessive spending.

Judging from the raucous cheers and merry chatter, the party was nowhere close to ending.

Far from the noise, the neighborhood lining down the road near the main manor was quiet and in deep slumber.

Not a peep or a squeak resounded—not even the scurrying of rats in the sewers could be heard. As if something was amiss and the land and its creatures knew better than to make a sound.

However, Edward Averill kept on running. The midnight moonlit sky, teeming with glittering stars, whizzed past his view as he rushed through the yellow-lit streets. His shoes thudded mutely against the sandy stones. The night summer breeze gave a cold bite, tinging his tanned cheeks with a faint, rosy color. The various scents of perfume oils from the market lingered in the air, invading his senses.

Hardly gasping for air, he continued his hurried steps past unlit, neighboring houses.

Edward restrained himself from cursing his Alpha out loud when he received the Alpha Command that woke him up at midnight while blissfully wrapped around his beautiful mate. His whole being protested as he got up from their soft bed, but the absolute command left no room for disobedience. He was also surprised and intrigued upon hearing such urgency from his Alpha, which made him uneasy. Alpha Raymond rarely calls for a late meeting and is even rarer in using the Alpha Command to call on him.

Begrudgingly, Edward had frantically scrambled around their dark room looking for his underwear and nearly broke his neck when he slipped on it. He then blamed the alcohol he had taken earlier from the party for his loss of balance. A grunt from the sleeping form of his mate was the only indication of her annoyance.

Once fully dressed—with clothes somewhat presentable to stand in, in front of the Alpha—Edward kissed his mate on her cheeks and left their warm home.

In just a few moments, the familiar gravel path of the main manor, lined with trimmed bushes on each side, came into view. Edward slowed his running to a walk and strode up to the towering, iron-wrought gate of the manor. He nodded towards the two men, who saluted when they recognized him, standing guard on either side of the gate as he made his way in.