From the Ashes

PROLOGUE

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PROPHECY

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Take pride in your story, children of lore.

Learn from the path of your ancestors before.

Supernatural souls heed this cry:

Follow the Phoenix.

Never will he appear as foe.

The many faces of the bird,

Will not deter his nobleness.

Out of the darkness, our souls can rest.

If you choose to follow through,

The Greatness will be as promised.

Out of the dirt, we will shine.

And from the ashes, our King will rise.

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PROLOGUE

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EIGHT YEARS AGO

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A young boy squeezed his eyes shut and thought of a wish. I wish... I wish I was special, like my family. I wish I could be a wolf too. Please. He blew out the number eleven candle sticking out of the blue birthday cake.

The family that surrounded the boy at the table, cheered and clapped for him. His two elder sisters engulfed him in a hug and the three of them laughed as the chair he was sitting on almost toppled backward.

"Happy birthday, Tony!" Luna, his second oldest sister yelled in his ear, followed by a squeal.

He accepted the hug with a smile. However, inside he was disappointed.

"Just wait, Tony." Luna crouched to whisper in his ear. "You just have to be patient. It'll happen one day."

But her words didn't ease his dismay.

"Easy for you to say," he muttered and walked off in order to find a quiet place away from his loud family that didn't share his gift of being incredibly normal. Every single one of them was special. Everyone but him.

A week after his birthday, Tony was still waiting for his wish. He had wished for abilities, like the ones his family possessed, but he still fell short of extraordinary.

The small boy watched as his older brother transformed. Fangs grew from his teeth, and claws protruded from his fingernails.

Tony frowned. His brother was a werewolf, but all he got to be is nothing.

A man much taller than the other two stood in front of him and crouched down into a fighting stance. Claws grew from his fingernails as well.

Both of their eyes changed to bright yellow, masking the true brown color of their irises.

The two older males looked just like the younger boy. It was almost as if the oldest man had been cloned twice, only a few years apart. They shared the same dark chocolate-colored eyes, bronzed skin, and almost black, curly brown hair.

"Bene, Alessandro" good, the father said to his oldest son.

The father and son began to spar, throwing light punches and kicks.

Irritated and bored, Tony got up from his spot in the grass and marched over to them, a scowl etched across his soft features.

"I want a turn." He crossed his arms over his small chest.