CHAPTER THREE.

CHAPTER THREE…….

( Please note that different scenarios tell the same story but put in different testaments and records and they're combined together as a testimonial.)

Darkness has a way of remembering you.

It clung to the corners of my cell tonight like it knew something I didn’t. The walls looked closer than usual. The air was heavier. Even the silence… it felt alive. Watching. Breathing.

I lay on my cot, staring at the cracked ceiling where moonlight spilled through a tiny barred window. It cut across the floor like a blade, pale and lonely.

Twenty-two.

I turned twenty-two tonight.

No cake.

No song.

No laughter.

No loving arms to pull me close and whisper wishes into my hair.

No family.

I swallowed, not allowing my eyes to burn. I had cried enough in this place. Tonight, I would not break.

Instead, I whispered into the dark,

“Happy birthday, Alina.”

My voice sounded foreign in here.

For years I had imagined this day differently. In Europe, with champagne and candles. In my old bedroom with warm sheets and a heart full of dreams. With Kael’s arms around me and a future promise sitting bright on my finger.

I almost laughed at that one.

Kael.

The name no longer stung.

It felt… empty.

Four years ago, the world buried me.

Tonight, it didn’t even remember I existed.

I curled onto my side, hugging my knees.

“I made it,” I murmured. “I survived four years in hell. I didn’t die like they wanted me to. I didn’t let them win.”

Even though everything in me was bone-tired…

Even though my soul felt bruised…

I was still breathing.

Still here.

Still standing.

Barely.

“If there’s a god out there,” I whispered, “you’ve been quiet for a long time. But tonight… I don’t need miracles.”

I let out a shaky breath.

“Just… don’t let my story end here.”

A single tear slid to my temple and vanished into my hair.

Then,

Footsteps.

Slow.

Measured.

Unfamiliar.

I frowned and pushed myself upright as light crept beneath my cell door.

Two keys jingled.

The lock clicked.

The door swung open.

A guard stood there — but he wasn’t alone.

Behind him…

She stood like thunder given form.

Tall.

Wrapped in dark fabric that shimmered faintly like storm clouds. Long silver-black hair spilled down her back like a living thing. Her eyes were not cruel like the Thornbrooks’…

They were ancient.

And brilliant.

They glowed faintly blue.

The guard cleared his throat awkwardly.

“You have a visitor.”

At this hour?

I blinked.

The woman stepped inside.

And the air changed.

The door shut behind her.

The guard retreated like he’d just brushed against something dangerous.

My pulse hammered in my throat as she turned toward me.

I didn’t know her.

But something in my chest *recognized* her.

A pressure built behind my eyes.

A voice I had never heard before whispered somewhere inside me—

*Mother.*

She crossed the cell slowly, her gaze never leaving my face.

When she stopped inches from me…

Her lips trembled.

She lifted a shaking hand and cupped my cheek as if touching me was a prayer.

“Oh, my child,” she whispered.

My breath hitched.

“I have searched every lifetime for your face.”

My voice cracked.

“Who… who are you?”

Tears welled in her eyes — real ones.

Not manufactured like Seraphina’s.

Not hollow like Eliza’s.

These were ancient tears filled with grief.

“I am Cercie Bloodburn, Others call Me The 

Lady Dame Thunderstorm.”

The name dropped like a thunderbolt.

The Lady ThunderStorm 

The most powerful royal Alpha bloodline in legend.

The dynasty mothers whispered about.

The wolves who ruled from the shadows.

Empires built in lightning and fear.

I swallowed.

“That’s impossible.”

She smiled softly.

“It is destiny.”

I stepped backward.

“No, there has to be some mistake. I’m… I’m nobody.”

Her eyes sharpened.

Then softened.

“You are my daughter.”

The room tilted.

I shook my head wildly.

“No, no… my parents are Thomas and Eliza Thornbrook. They adopted me…”

She tightened her grip on my face.

“They stole you.”

The word split the air in half.

My stomach dropped.

“You were taken from me during a blood rebellion. Hidden. Disguised as human. Sealed so deeply even fate struggled to track you.”

I whispered, numb,

“But… I’m wolfless.”

A faint smile curved her lips.

“Only because I made you so.”

I stared at her.

“You are not wolfless,” she said gently.

“You are dormant.”

The floor vanished beneath me.

My mother 

No 

This woman who *felt* like heat and earth and power 

Took my shoulders.

“Tonight, Alina… you turn twenty-two. And tonight…”

Her voice dropped.

“You awaken.”

My heart slammed into my ribs.

“Awaken into what?”

Her eyes flared electric blue.

“A Mega Alpha.

The Product of an Alpha King and Queen. 

You're a Royal Alpha wolf, Alina ”

I shook my head in disbelief.

“This is a dream,” I whispered. “I’ve lost it. Prison finally broke me.”

She smiled wistfully.

“No.”

Then she placed her palm to my chest.

The instant she touched me

Pain.

Heat.

Something surged beneath my skin like molten fire.

A low sound left my throat half scream, half growl.

My mother’s voice stayed calm.

“There she is.”

I gasped.

“What are you doing to me?”

“Reintroducing you to yourself.”

Tears streamed down my face.

“I’m not a wolf. I’ve never shifted”

Her thumb brushed beneath my eye.

“I sealed your wolf when you were a baby. The world would have burned for you if they knew you lived. So I disguised you. Made you small.”

Her voice cracked.

“Taught you to suffer in silence so you would live.”

I looked down at my shaking hands.

“All this time…”

She nodded.

“You were never weak.”

I laughed once.

Broken.

“They ruined me.”

“Then we will ruin them,” she said quietly.

My breath stuttered.

She reached for my wrists.

“Come. The moon waits.”

The guard never stopped us.

The gates opened like they recognized her.

We stepped into the prison yard under a hungry silver moon.

Clouds recoiled.

Wind danced.

The air hummed.

Something beneath my skin answered.

“My blood knows her,” I whispered.

She guided me to the center of the yard where moonlight pooled like water.

“Kneel.”

I obeyed.

She stood before me.

Lifted a blade from nowhere.

Pressed it into her palm.

Blood spilled like liquid lightning.

Silver-red.

Glowing.

She raised her hand.

I trembled.

“Drink,” she whispered.

I hesitated.

Then obeyed.

The instant her blood touched my lips—

Fire.

I screamed.

The world fractured.

She began chanting, her voice echoing unnaturally through the air.

**“Sanguis antiquus, voco te…”**

(*Ancient blood, I call you…*)

**“Per lunam et per ignem…”**

(*By moon and by fire…*)

**“Solve sigillum dormientis animae!”**

(*Unseal the sleeping soul!*)

My body convulsed.

Veins burned.

Bones groaned.

The night screamed with me.

She pressed her bleeding hand to my mouth again.

“Repeat after me.”

I tasted lightning.

And obeyed.

“Sanguis antiquus… voco te…”

“Per lunam et per ignem…”

My voice cracked as power poured through me.

“Solve sigillum dormientis animae!”

The ground beneath me split.

My scream tore from my chest.

My spine arched.

Pain swallowed me whole.

Ripping.

Crushing.

Breaking.

Then

It happened.

My hands

They weren’t hands anymore.

Fur tore through skin.

Gleaming.

Black and silver.

My legs bent backward with sickening cracks.

My spine lengthened.

Teeth exploded into fangs.

My scream twisted into a roar of thunder.

The world shrank.

The moon grew closer.

My body reshaped itself around power.

I wasn’t afraid.

I was becoming.

Energy detonated from my chest.

Wind spiraled.

The prison trembled.

And then

Silence.

I stood on four legs beneath the moon.

Larger than any wolf.

Fur like midnight streaked with lightning.

Eyes burning cobalt.

I breathed once.

And the world bowed.

My mother approached slowly.

Placed her palm to my massive skull.

“My daughter,” she whispered.

I lowered my head to her.

Tears spilled from my wolf eyes.

*I am not broken.*

*I never was.*

Power thrummed in my bones.

Not borrowed.

Not stolen.

Mine.

I lifted my head and howled.

The sound cracked the night in two.

And the thunderstorm answered.

         …..***WRITERS POV***.....

I turned twenty-two in a prison cell.

No candles.

No cake.

No voice whispering my name in love.

Just cold stone under my bare feet and iron air scraping my lungs as if even breathing here cost too much. Night wrapped the prison in a suffocating silence that wasn’t quiet at all , it screamed. The kind of silence that reminds you that you are forgotten.

Tonight, I was not Alina Thornbrook anymore.

I was Inmate 447.

I sat on the thin mattress with my knees pulled to my chest, my fingers wrapped around my arms as if I could hold myself together by sheer force. My body had grown used to hunger. To bruises. To being unseen.

But my heart…

My heart had never learned how to starve.

Twenty-two.

I swallowed hard.

Four birthdays had passed like ghosts since I’d been thrown into this place. But something about this one felt heavier. Final. Like the universe had drawn a line and whispered:

This is it. You’re done.

I stared at the tiny barred window above my head. A square of moonlight spilled in like a cruel joke.

Somewhere out there, people were celebrating.

Laughing.

Loving.

And I was here.

I pressed my forehead against the wall, eyes burning but refusing to cry. I hadn’t cried in a long time. There was something sacred about tears… and this place didn’t deserve them.

“Funny,” I muttered to the darkness. “How you can lose everything… and still keep breathing like nothing happened.”

My voice echoed back to me in pieces. Broken and hollow.

I closed my eyes.

Kael’s face flashed behind them.

Then Seraphina’s.

Then a hospital siren.

Then blood on concrete.

I shook my head violently, nails digging into my scalp.

No.

Not tonight.

Tonight was already cruel enough.

“I’m not weak,” I whispered to myself, even though my chest hurt. “I survived you. I survived them. I survived *this*…”

My voice cracked.

“…So I’ll survive tomorrow too.”

There was a long pause.

Then I laughed , small and bitter.

“What a liar you’ve become, Alina.”

The door to my cell creaked.

I stiffened.

No one came to see prisoners at night unless it was bad news… or no news at all. My heartbeat surged like a warning drum, echoing through my ribs.

The guard stood there, face shadowed and hard.

“You,” he barked. “Get up.”

I frowned. “Why?”

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he stepped aside.

And someone else walked in.

A woman.

Not just any woman.

The air changed with her presence.

It thickened , like electricity pressing against my skin. The single flickering bulb above my head brightened, then dimmed, then burned steady as if afraid to fail her.

She was tall. Regal. Wrapped in a dark coat like midnight had been stitched into fabric. Her hair spilled down her back in inky waves touched with silver, her eyes glowing faintly like the moon behind clouds.

She looked…

Impossible.

My body reacted before my mind could.

I stood slowly, heart pounding violently.

The guard left without a word, locking the door behind him.

I was alone with her.

And for the first time in four years…

I was terrified.

The woman studied me.

Not like a stranger.

Not like a visitor.

Like a truth I had been running from my entire life.

Finally, she spoke.

“Twenty-two,” she said softly.

Her voice wrapped around the number like a spell.

I swallowed. “Who are you?”

Her lips curved , not in a smile, but something deeper.

Something ancient.

“My name…” she said quietly, stepping closer. “Is Cercie Bloodburn.”

The name hit me like thunder.

My breath left my lungs violently.

Bloodburn.

The name from fairy tales. From forbidden lore. From bedtime stories meant to warn children about monsters in the dark.

The Thunderstorms.

I laughed weakly. “Right. And I’m the Queen of the Stars.”

She stopped directly in front of me.

Close enough that I could feel heat radiating from her body.

“Look at me,” she commanded.

I did.

Her eyes flared.

Gold.

Silver.

Lightning.

My knees buckled.

I caught the edge of the bed at the last second.

“What… what are you?”

Her fingers brushed my cheek , feather light.

And my soul shuddered.

“I am your mother.”

The word struck me harder than any blow I had ever received.

I recoiled. “No.”

Her eyes darkened.

“I did not come to be believed,” she said. “I came because time is finished.”

I shook my head violently. “You’re lying. My mother died. I was told”

“They lied.”

Her voice thundered.

The lights trembled.

The walls groaned.

I clutched my ears.

“You were hidden,” she whispered fiercely. “Because your blood could end empires. Because your name could burn kings alive. Because your father…”

Her face hardened.

“…was Aethon Bloodburn.”

My breath left my body.

*The Thunderstorm King.*

My voice trembled. “That’s… impossible…”

She stepped closer.

Pressed her forehead to mine.

“Say his name,” she whispered.

My lips parted.

“…Aethon Bloodburn.”

The moon outside flared unnaturally bright.

My chest burned.

And I screamed as something inside me moved for the first time in my life.

                       ***********

   BACK TO ALINA….*****

I could barely breathe. The cold of the cell seeped into my bones, but it wasn’t the chill that made my hands shake. It was her presence. Cercie Bloodburn, Lady Dame Thunderstorm, the blood in my veins that called to her like a bell that had been silent too long.

“Alina,” she whispered, and the name felt heavier coming from her lips. Older. Fuller. Right.

I looked at her, my heart hammering so hard it drowned out everything else. “You… it’s really you,” I said, voice trembling. “After all these years… I thought…” My words caught in my throat. I had thought I would never see her again. That the stories of our family, the whispers of our bloodline, were just that stories.

Her eyes softened, but there was that familiar unsettling calm in them, the calm that could fracture my thoughts with a single look. She knelt before me, and I realized just how much I had shrunk in this place, how small and fragile I had felt without her.

“Alina,” she said again, gently, “you were never truly lost. You were hidden… waiting for the right moment. And now, the moment is here.”

I shook my head, trying to make sense of the words. “Hidden? You mean… my blood? My family? Are you saying I’m…?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “You are ours. The Bloodburn line runs through you. You are the culmination of centuries of strength, endurance, and power. And though the world tried to erase you, your blood remembers.”

I swallowed hard. My pulse spiked. “Our blood… But I’ve… I’ve been alone. I’ve been nothing.”

She reached for my hands, wrapping them in her own, and I flinched at the warmth. “You were never nothing,” she said. “You’ve been surviving, enduring. That is proof enough. Blood does not lie, Alina. And the fire within you has been waiting for this night.”

Her words washed over me, strange and comforting, yet terrifying. I felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold stone beneath me. “Cercie… I don’t know if I’m ready,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “I don’t know if I can… be who you say I am.”

“You do not need to be ready,” she said softly, almost a whisper. “You only need to be willing to let it happen. To face yourself. To face the moon. Tonight, under its light, your blood will awaken. And with it… your true form will rise.”

She stood slowly and extended her hand to me. I hesitated. Part of me wanted to retreat into the shadows, to stay small, to cling to the fragile hope of being unnoticed. But another part, the part that had always known her even when I had forgotten, reached out. My fingers touched hers, and in that instant, a warmth surged through me.

We stepped outside. The night air hit me with its sharp sweetness, carrying the scent of pine, earth, and something older, something… alive. The full moon hung above us, pale and luminous, spilling silver across the landscape. Its light pooled around us, and I felt my heart thud against my ribs as if it recognized the moment before the world told me what I had always been.

Cercie’s voice broke the silence. “We begin with the prayer. Speak with me, Alina. Let the words bind us, let them call forth the blood you carry.”

I nodded, trembling. She began, and I followed, her voice firm and measured, mine quivering, yet together we chanted:

“Sanguis antiquus, vitae fulgor,

Revela potentiam in lumine lunae.”

The Latin rolled off our tongues, heavy and melodic, echoing through the trees. My blood stirred, warm and insistent, as though it recognized the chant. My pulse quickened, beating in rhythm with the words. Cercie’s hands hovered over mine, guiding, steadying, and I felt the first stirrings of something awakening deep inside.

The wind rose, whispering through the leaves, carrying our voices outward. Cercie’s eyes glowed faintly in the moonlight, calm yet intense. “Now,” she said softly. “Feel the bloodline. Remember who you are. You are not alone. You are the daughter of strength, of survival, of power. Let it flow.”

I felt it then. A surge, subtle at first, then insistent, pulsing in my veins. It was as though my very cells were being rewritten, awakening to a rhythm I had never known. I gasped and fell to my knees, clutching the earth beneath me. Pain—sharp, disorienting, alien—ran through me. My body convulsed, bones stretching, muscles tightening, fur sprouting along my arms and legs. My senses exploded: I could hear the beating of a bird’s wing miles away, smell the earth’s damp richness, feel the cold moonlight searing into my skin.

I screamed, half in fear, half in awe. Cercie knelt beside me, her hands brushing my shoulders, guiding me through the transformation. “Breathe, Alina. Do not fight it. Let it shape you, teach you. You are more than you’ve ever known.”

The pain deepened, but with it came clarity. Memories surged, memories that were not mine, but ours. Ancestors’ whispers, promises, warnings. The power of the Bloodburn line coursed through me, shaping, molding, consuming, and releasing me. My mind teetered on the edge of understanding and madness.

I felt myself change further. My head elongated, jaw strengthening, ears sharpening. Claws sprouted, massive and deadly, digging into the soil. My body grew, stretched, furred, massive beyond human comprehension. And yet… inside, my mind remained intact. Every thought, every memory, every fragment of who I was remained with me. I was human, and yet not. I was wolf, and yet I retained myself.

Cercie’s voice guided me through the chaos. “Remember your heart. Remember your mind. Let your instincts rise, but do not lose yourself. You are Alpha, Alina. Mega Alpha. You are our blood, our legacy, our future. Stand in it. Claim it.”

I opened my eyes and saw the world anew. Trees towered like spires, the moon’s reflection burned on the ground like molten silver, and the air vibrated with a power I could feel thrumming in my chest. My own heartbeat was a drum of dominance and awakening. I flexed my claws, testing strength I had never imagined, and the ground beneath me trembled with it.

And then she was there, Cercie, watching me with quiet pride. “Look at yourself,” she said gently. “You are magnificent. But remember, this power comes with responsibility. With control. With the knowledge of who you are. Never forget your lineage, your family, your blood. You are the culmination of all that came before you. And tonight… you rise to meet it.”

I lifted my head, letting the wind whip through my fur. The pain of transformation subsided slightly, leaving a deep, intoxicating sense of power. I could feel my heart, my mind, my instincts aligned in ways that made me shiver with awe. I was… alive. More alive than I had ever been.

“Cercie…” I whispered, my voice rumbling through my massive throat, human thought struggling through wolf form. “I… I understand. I am… I am yours. I am Alpha. I am Bloodburn.”

Her hand brushed against my fur, gentle, grounding. “And I am here, always. You will never be alone again. Our blood runs together. Our legacy continues. And together… we will face what comes.”

The moon above us seemed to pulse in answer. I raised my massive head, eyes reflecting silver light. A howl tore from my throat, primal, echoing through the night. It was not just a cry. It was a declaration. It was my birthright. It was the awakening of Alina Bloodburn, the Mega Alpha wolf, the culmination of lineage, power, and legacy.

Cercie joined me, voice chanting softly in Latin as I howled:

“Luna plena, sanguis regnat, potentia revelata.

Aeternum vitae, dominus ferarum.”

The words wrapped around me, binding, anchoring, awakening. I felt the fullness of who I was: wolf, human, daughter, heir, Alpha. Pain, fear, grief, and awe intertwined, but underneath it all was certainty. I had survived. I had become.

And in that moment, under the full moon, with my bloodline and my guide at my side, I knew I was finally… complete.

                ******INTERFACE ********

The day Cercie Bloodburn released me from the shadows of my prison felt unreal, as if the world itself had paused to acknowledge my existence. I remember the way the sun cut across the horizon that morning, spilling over the damp stones of the courtyard like molten gold, casting long shadows that seemed to salute my departure. I stood there, silent, my hands clasped, while Cercie watched me with those pale, unsettling eyes that had always pierced through my fear and my doubt.

“You are ready,” she said, her voice calm yet impossible to ignore, as though it carried the weight of centuries. “But remember, Alina… readiness is nothing. Mastery is everything.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. I had been a child in that cell once, a girl who trembled at every footstep, who imagined herself small and invisible. Now, even with the memory of that fear etched into me, I was something more. I was part of her bloodline, part of the Thunderstorm Empire, and I could feel it pulsing in my veins.

She stepped closer, her hand brushing mine, grounding me. “Europe awaits. Your training will not be gentle. Your nights will be long, and your spirit will be tested. You will shift. You will fight. You will bleed. And when you return… the Thornbrooks will not recognize the storm you have become.”

Her words ignited a fire inside me that I could not suppress. I wanted it. I wanted it all—the strength, the power, the reckoning that had been whispered to me for years behind the iron bars of my prison. I wanted to be no one’s victim ever again.

I departed under her gaze, stepping into a carriage that smelled faintly of pine and leather, my thoughts a whirlwind of fear and anticipation. As the landscape of my old life receded, I realized how fragile my previous existence had been. Every chain, every insult, every memory of imprisonment, was already beginning to forge me into something else, something stronger, something sharper, something that could survive everything.

Europe arrived in waves of cold air and opulent architecture. The Thunderstorm Empire’s training grounds sprawled over forests that seemed to breathe, rivers that cut like silver knives through the land, and stone fortresses older than memory itself. I arrived under the veil of dusk, and even then, I could feel the latent power of the place pressing against my skin, a rhythm that matched my pulse.

I was led to the training halls first. Cercie’s apprentices, men and women whose blood carried the same lineage, whose eyes glimmered with hidden storms, watched me with curiosity and caution. I was the new blood, yes, but I carried something raw and unpolished, a potential that made even the elders pause.

“Do not fear failure,” Cercie whispered to me as we entered the first hall. “Fear complacency. Fear the dulling of your edge. Your body is your weapon. Your mind is your shield. And your blood… is your storm.”

The days began quickly, each one more brutal than the last. I learned to shift seamlessly between human and wolf, each form teaching me something vital. In wolf form, my senses expanded to near unimaginable limits. I could smell the faint trace of a leaf decaying miles away, hear the heartbeats of prey, or enemies, hiding in the undergrowth, feel the tremor of the earth beneath my paws. In human form, I refined strategy, spellcraft, and control, learning to harness the raw instincts of the Alpha without succumbing to them.

Training was punishment. My muscles burned, my bones ached, my claws cut the soil, and yet every night, I rose again. Each shift between human and wolf left me drained but exhilarated, as though I were learning to inhabit two bodies and one mind simultaneously.

Cercie was always beside me, her voice calm, patient, and yet unyielding. “Control, Alina. Do not let your wolf run without your consent. Your Alpha instincts are a gift, yes, but without discipline, they become a weapon against yourself.”

I clenched my teeth as I ran across the moonlit clearing, my massive paws digging into the dirt, the wind tearing past me. My human mind analyzed the terrain, calculated the most efficient path, and yet my wolf instincts suggested a different approach, faster, more fluid, more primal. I learned to merge the two, to become one with the wolf without losing the human spark that made me think, plot, and survive.

Nights were my favorite. Under the full moon, Cercie taught me the ancient ways of our lineage. Latin prayers echoed through the forest as we called upon the ancestors, invoking strength, endurance, and clarity.

“Sanguis fortis, spiritus dominus,

Via tua revelata, potentia perpetua.”

The words hummed through my veins, mingling with my blood and my growing power. I howled at the moon, my voice carrying through the trees like a proclamation: I existed. I was Alpha. I was Bloodburn.

Two years passed in a blur of pain, triumph, and self-discovery. Seasons changed, snow fell and melted, and yet I continued to rise with every challenge. Cercie remained a constant, guiding me, testing me, loving me with the gentle but unsettling intensity that had always defined her. Our conversations ranged from strategy to lineage to family stories I had never known, each tale binding me tighter to the legacy I carried in my blood.

“You understand now, don’t you?” she asked one night as we watched the moon’s reflection ripple across a frozen pond. “Our blood does not forgive weakness. But it does reward perseverance. You have survived, Alina. You have mastered more than just strength, you have mastered yourself.”

I looked at her, wolf form pressed into human form beneath the moonlight, muscles coiled, senses alert. “I’ve learned… more than I imagined I could. Every moment, every shift, every challenge… it has made me who I am meant to be. I am ready, Cercie. I am ready to return.”

Her eyes, always unsettlingly calm, softened for a fraction of a second. “And the Thornbrooks?”

My lips curved into a small, cruel smile. “They will not see me coming. They will not expect what waits. I will not be a girl they can control, a pawn they can crush. I will be the storm they never imagined.”

Cercie nodded, her hand resting on my shoulder. “Remember your lessons. You are Alpha, yes, but more than that, you are Bloodburn. Strategy, patience, and control will win what raw power alone cannot. When you return, strike with precision, and leave nothing undone.”

I trained harder those final months, running through forests, leaping over cliffs, sparring with other Alphas, and mastering my Mega Alpha wolf form so completely that I could shift seamlessly at will, human mind commanding wolf body, wolf instincts enhancing human perception. Each night, I prayed beneath the full moon, repeating the ancient chants, letting the Latin words root me in my ancestry:

“Regna tua revelata, sanguis immortalis,

Potentia tua absoluta, dominus ferarum.”

The power hummed through me, resonant, intoxicating, and terrifying. I could feel the predator I had become, the intelligence, the ferocity, the dominance. My claws could crush stone. My teeth could rend metal. My mind calculated a dozen possibilities in a single heartbeat. I was unstoppable. I was perfected.

And yet… there was a part of me that shivered in anticipation. A part that remembered the girl who had trembled behind prison bars, who had whispered to the darkness on her twenty-second birthday, who had longed for the world to notice her. That part now fueled the storm within me. It was no longer weakness, it was the fire that made me relentless.

Finally, the day came when Cercie deemed me ready to return. I stood at the edge of the estate, wind tearing through my fur, eyes glinting silver beneath the moonlight. Two years of grueling training, of pain, discipline, and discovery, had forged me into something the Thornbrooks could not imagine.

“I will return tonight,” I whispered, feeling the power surge through my veins. My claws dug into the earth as my senses swept the horizon, every sound, scent, and vibration attuned to the world beyond. “And they will fall. Every last one.”

Cercie watched me silently, her presence gentle but still unsettling, as though she knew both the storm I had become and the darkness it would leave behind. “Do not underestimate them,” she said softly. “Control your rage. Channel it. Let them feel the weight of your bloodline, but do not let it consume you entirely.”

I nodded, though inside, the anticipation coiled tighter than any leash. My transformation was complete, my mastery of the Thunderstorm craft absolute, and my heart pulsed with the thrill of what was to come. The world had not yet seen the full force of Alina Bloodburn, the Mega Alpha wolf, daughter of Cercie Bloodburn, heir of the Thunderstorm Empire, The New Lady ThunderStorm.

I stepped forward, the forest beneath me trembling as my claws met the soil. The moon reflected in my eyes, silver and unflinching, as I raised my massive head and howled, long, deep, and full of promise.

The Thornbrooks would not recognize the storm that was returning to them. They would not survive the reckoning I had prepared, the revenge that had been two years in the making. And as I melted into the shadows, shifting seamlessly between wolf and human, the anticipation thrummed through me like lightning through my veins.

I was ready.

And the Thornbrooks… were not.