11 years Earlier...
Flames.
Flames climbed hungrily over her pack'shome, turning the night lurid with ember colored rays of light and suffocating smoke. Sparks replaced the stars. The large mansion was now nothing but a silhouette built at the entrance of Hell. Nothing could have prepared Seraphiel for this.
Her pack rushed past her, rushing deep into the woods. Some of them shifting, most of them too panicked to. Those who were just now escaping the burning building were covered with soot and slight burns, she could hear their criesof pain and sadness; their faces painted white with terror. Those that were still trapped in the burning building desperately cried out for help, some even resorting to jumping out of the windows. She noticed this as what used to be the living room window exploding.
Some trees surrounding the house and a couple of cars were also consumed by flames. In the Alaskan mountains, hundreds of miles away from any city or town,she doubted that there would be any fire truck to come to her packs rescue.
"Those bastards!" A woman wailed loudly, falling to her knees as two men tried to pull her up and move her away from danger. "It's those damn Demons! They tried to kill us!"
"Dammit, get her into the jeep. We have to move." A male barked orders.
"I'm trying to bring it around."
"Watch out for them, they could be waiting to pick us off." Another person warned.
"We have to go to Canada," Seraphiel's father directed, "we'll rally there at Blackwood Mountain."
"Is that a safe place to go to? After what happened?"
"We don't have a choice!"
Seraphiel felt a small tug at her hand, forcing her away from the overbearing warmth of the flames. Looking up, she saw the soft and fearful face of her mother. She crouched down, her knee bending and resting in the snowy ground.
"Mummy." Seraphiel's small voice barely audible over the roars of the fire. Her mother cupped her cheek tenderly.
"We have to go now, little one. Where's your father?" She asked, scanning the area.
"He went to go hunt down the bad people," she answered softly, her throat hurting from smoke inhalation. "He went with Randall and Kris."
Her mother made a quick move, struggling to tear herself away from her daughter. She may have been only nine years old, but even at that young age she was a match to her mother.
"No! It's his job, he's supposed to protect the pack."
"I'm his mate, Sera. I'm sorry but I have to protect you, you are part of the pack too."
Seraphiel let go of her mothers hand reluctantly, hot tears rolling down the curves of her cheek. She couldn't keep her mother from her father, there was no use in trying to keep mates apart. She turned her back, getting ready to shift into her wolf form only to be forced forward. A hard object had smashed into her. She let out a cry of pain.
"Sera run!" Her mother screamed at her. She turned to meet the terrified gaze of her mother, who lay on the snow covered ground. Men with sun kissed skin and long dark hair stood around them. Their tribal tattoos and eyes darkening as they began to chant something. Seraphiel'seyes widened, fear struck her.
"Enya!" Her father called out, breaking through the wall of men and pushing timber out of the circle. His wolf form looked mighty as he stood over his mate protectively, baring his canines at them. He didn't know who to attack first. Her mother thrashed around on the ground, screaming in agony.
What's happening?! She questioned. Seeing her mothers form suddenly burst into a blue flame.
"MOM!" She screamed, her arm outstretched towards them. She scrambled up onto her feet and was running towards her burning parents until she was harshly swept up by strong, warm arms. Looking up she saw her Aunt Kirsten, her eyes focusing on the path was then Seraphiel realized, she was too late.