The silence stretched for several moments as Lira processed everything Dain had just revealed. The weight of it settled on her shoulders, pressing down with the heaviness of a thousand unspoken truths. Her mind spun as she grappled with the implications of what she had just learned. She had always known there were gaps in her mother’s story, but she never expected those gaps to be so vast, so tangled in the shadows of betrayal and lost legacies.Caius was the first to break the silence, his voice steady but edged with disbelief. “You’re saying that Valenwood really still exists. That Alpha Theron, Lira’s grandfather, is still leading the survivors.”Dain’s amber eyes met Caius’s, unwavering. “Yes,” he confirmed with a nod, his voice thick with both reverence and sorrow. “And he would want to see his granddaughter.” His gaze flickered toward Lira, his next words meant only for her. “You carry his blood. Even after all these years, you belong to Valenwood.”Lira wasn’t sure what to say.
The air was crisp as they set out before dawn, the distant mountains silhouetted against the dim glow of the fading moon. The night’s lingering chill clung to Lira’s skin, but she barely noticed. Her mind was too preoccupied with the weight of the journey ahead.They were heading into the unknown—into Valenwood, a place shrouded in secrecy for over half a century.Tobias rode beside her, his presence grounding yet heavy with unspoken thoughts. To his left, Dain remained stoic, his expression unreadable as his sharp eyes scanned their surroundings. Caius, ever the silent guardian, positioned himself protectively near Lira, while Ronan and the other warriors flanked them at a distance.As they rode, Lira found her gaze drifting to Dain. His story had lingered in her mind ever since his reveal. A man who had spent his life protecting a land few believed existed. A man who had lost everything to Malakar’s forces.She broke the silence. Lira took a deep breath, her hands tightening around t
The further south they traveled, the denser the forests became. The air was thick, not just with the scent of damp earth but with something else—something unseen.Magic.Caius was the first to voice what they were all thinking. “Something is different here.”Dain, riding ahead, nodded. “This is the magic of Valenwood. It has kept us hidden for decades.”Elias frowned. “If it’s magic, then who cast it?”Dain’s expression darkened, his brow furrowing as though the question had dug into an old wound. “A witch named Morgana Blackthorne.”Lira straightened in her saddle, her eyes narrowing. “The same witch who helped my parents?”“The very same,” Dain confirmed. “She was an ally, but she was also secretive. She never revealed the true extent of her abilities, only that she had sworn to protect Valenwood.”Ronan whistled low, impressed. “A witch who can hide an entire pack for years? That’s powerful magic.”Dain nodded grimly, a haunted look crossing his face. “It is. And I learned a fracti
Night fell faster than expected, and the group quickly set up camp in a clearing surrounded by towering pines, their tall trunks casting long shadows in the dimming light. The campfire crackled, sending orange sparks into the air, as the wind whispered through the branches above.Lira sat by the fire, the warmth from the flames doing little to chase the cold that settled deep in her bones. Her thoughts swirled—Morgana’s magic, the prophecy, and now, Dain’s unexpected revelation about his bloodline. The pieces of the puzzle were slowly coming together, but she felt no closer to understanding the full picture. She glanced at Dain, who stood at the edge of the camp, his back turned to the fire. He was staring into the darkness of the forest, his posture rigid, as though he was waiting for something—or someone.Unable to let the silence linger, Lira stood and moved toward him, her steps soft on the forest floor. She paused when she was close enough to speak without disturbing the quiet of
The journey had been long and arduous, winding through dense forests and treacherous terrain. Yet, as they neared the heart of the hidden pack, something shifted.Lira felt it first—a subtle, almost imperceptible energy brushing against her skin, humming in the very air they breathed. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced. The air seemed charged with a quiet power, as though the land itself was alive, watching them. It thrummed beneath the surface of everything—the trees, the earth, the wind.Her heartbeat quickened as the sensation deepened, an instinctual pull urging her forward. She could sense something ancient here, something familiar and comforting, yet foreign, like the stirring of a long-forgotten memory.Then, through the towering trees, a village emerged. But it was not like any other.Valenwood was breathtaking.The settlement lay nestled within a vast, enchanted clearing, where nature and magic intertwined seamlessly. The trees were ancient, their trunks thick wi
The inside of Alpha Thoren’s home was even more mesmerizing.The walls were crafted from a dark, polished wood that seemed to shimmer under the lantern light. Silver filigree markings ran along the beams, forming intricate symbols that pulsed faintly. The air carried a scent of fresh earth, herbs, and something Lira couldn’t quite place—magic.Carved stone hearths lined the hall, where fires crackled with warmth. Long tables filled the open space, with wooden benches arranged neatly, likely for gatherings or feasts.As they walked deeper into the home, the pack members moved around them with familiarity, but also reverence. Some whispered among themselves, their gazes lingering on Lira.She wasn’t sure how to feel about that.But then, something—or rather, someone—caught her attention.At the far side of the hall, seven individuals stood waiting.The witches.Three men and four women. Each with a different presence, a different aura.The oldest of them was a tall man with silver-strea
Caius must have sensed her unease, because without a word, he reached for her hand.His warmth grounded her. His golden eyes met hers, steady and sure. “Are you alright?”Lira swallowed hard. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I feel… watched.”Caius’s lips twitched. “Because you are.”She huffed a quiet laugh. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”He tugged her a little closer, lowering his voice. “They’re looking at you because they believe in you.”Lira exhaled sharply. “That’s what scares me.”Caius studied her, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. “Why?”Lira hesitated. “Because I don’t know if I can be what they need me to be.”A moment of silence stretched between them. Then, Caius leaned in just enough that his breath brushed against her temple.“You already are.”His words sent a warmth through her chest, a quiet strength settling in her bones.She wasn’t sure if he was right. But for now, she let herself believe it.A History Woven in SecretsTheir group had been given a
The Prophecy of Selene, the Mother of NightIn the days of old, when the world was young and the wolves roamed free beneath the gaze of the Mother of Night, Selene, she beheld her children—the wolves who walked beneath the silver glow of her eternal light. She saw their strength, their unity, and the harmony of the packs. But she also saw the darkness creeping at the edges of their realm, the shadow that slithered close to their hearts, waiting to strike. And so, Selene, with the voice of a thousand winds, did speak unto her children in a tongue as ancient as the stars:“A time shall come, my children, when the Dark One shall rise. His hunger shall be boundless, and his fury unrelenting. The packs shall be torn asunder, their bones broken by his mighty hand. Rivers shall run red with the blood of my own, and the strongest among you shall fall first. The weak shall be devoured, scattered to the winds. The earth shall weep, and the moon shall mourn for the souls lost to the darkness.”“
CAUISThe walls of the packhouse felt smaller than I remembered.Every creak in the floorboards, every breath I took—it all sounded louder now without Fenrir’s presence muffling the world. Without him, my senses were mine alone. Just mine. But it didn’t feel like freedom. It felt like a void.Lira walked beside me, silent but steady, her hand wrapped around mine. She hadn't let go since the clearing. I didn’t realize how much I was leaning on her until we reached the edge of the war room and I stumbled slightly.She caught me, of course. Just like she always did.“I’m fine,” I muttered, more for myself than for her.“You don’t have to lie to me,” she said gently, guiding me into the chair beside the long table. “You’re allowed to break, Caius. Just… not alone.”I leaned back, resting my head against the chair. The same chair I used to sit in when planning patrol routes, border meetings, or war tactics. But now I felt like an impostor in my own command.“I used to feel him everywhere,”
CAUISTwo days.That’s how long I’ve been walking around with the weight of a war I can’t even fight properly. Since Morgana’s revelation—since Ysara’s talisman reacted to me—I’ve been carrying more than just the burden of being Alpha.I’ve been carrying him.Malakar.He’s been leaking into my mind, into my instincts, tainting my bond with Fenrir. I’ve heard whispers that don’t belong to me—urges that feel wrong in the marrow of my bones. At first, they were faint. But now… they pulse beneath my skin.I’ve kept it hidden. From everyone.But Morgana knew.She came this morning, not alone—but with Aldric at her side.I was in the clearing behind the packhouse—the only place where Morgana’s wards still muted the noise in my head. It was the only place I could think. Or at least try to. And Lira, my luna, had been by my side through it all.I heard Aldric’s boots before I saw him—solid, slow, and full of purpose. Morgana’s steps were quieter, but the magic she carried always announced her
MORGANAThe scent of rosemary and dried bloodroot clung to my robes as I pored over the fifth tome of the morning. My fingers trembled—not from age, but from urgency. It had been two days since we discovered the truth.Two days since I learned that Malakar had not merely touched Caius’ mind… but had laced himself into his very shadow.A tether. A slow poison.A curse older than most witches alive today.I hadn’t slept. The fire in my chamber barely flickered anymore, kept alive only by the pulse of my magic and the constant rustling of pages. On the table before me, scrolls lay scattered, ink smudged by my hurried notes. I’d summoned wind spirits for answers. Brewed insight draughts. Called on the ancestors through the Oracle’s Mirror.Nothing had given me what I needed.Because this was no ordinary corruption. Malakar wasn’t just feeding off Caius—he was waiting. Waiting for the right moment to seize full control.And that moment was drawing near.Caius hadn't said much in the last t
CAUISWe scoured the halls until our feet ached and our patience thinned.Every wall, every crack, every space in the packhouse was searched—twice. The talismans Ysara gave us were sensitive, humming lightly in our palms whenever they neared even the faintest trace of cursed energy. But for hours, they offered nothing but silence.Until Kora stopped dead in her tracks."Wait… the old stone hearth," she said, her voice sharp with realization. "The one in the original east wing kitchen. No one uses it anymore, but it's still there."The east wing. Of course.No one cooked there now. The kitchens had been rebuilt on the other side after the fire years ago. But the room remained accessible—used occasionally for storage, sometimes by pups playing hide-and-seek. A forgotten relic of our home’s past.And the perfect place to hide something no one was meant to find.We rushed to the hearth, the talismans growing heavier with each step.As soon as we crossed the threshold, the symbols on the t
MORGANA I didn't walk. I ran. The vision still echoed behind my eyes like lightning that refused to fade. I had no time to waste, no room for caution. I clutched the edge of my cloak and stormed through the halls of Grimhowl, the weight of destiny—and dread—pressing down on my shoulders like an avalanche ready to fall. Caius. Lira. They needed to know what I saw. The future was still uncertain, a thread split in two. One path led to fire, ruin, and death. The other—hope. But both required a choice. A sacrifice. A weapon. And time, we had little of that left. I reached the dining hall, heart thudding in my chest, relief washing over me as I spotted them all inside. Lira stood beside Caius, her hand resting gently on his. Tobias and Thoren sat nearby, deep in conversation with Seraphina and Dain. Deanna and Elowen were seated next to Ronan and Kora, who looked up the moment I entered. Elias stood at the far end, arms crossed, eyes alert. Even the Elders Council had g
MORGANA The moment I stepped out of the war room, scroll clutched tight to my chest, I felt the weight of centuries settle on my shoulders like a cloak spun from memory and magic. The Map of the Bloodseer. I had heard of it in whispers—in forgotten tomes and fragmented chants. A myth, they claimed. A tale told by seers too old to trust and too mad to be believed. But it was real. Right in my hands, pulsing faintly with the tangled threads of fate itself. This could be the turning point in the war. Or a trap we were too desperate to ignore. I moved quickly through Grimhowl’s stone halls, ducking into the small chamber I’d claimed as my study. Candles flared to life with a flick of my fingers. Runes on the walls shimmered, reacting to the old magic now saturating the space. I laid the map out carefully across the old table, heart pounding not with fear—but with urgency. Because this time, it was personal. My hands hovered over the parchment, and I whispered an incan
CAUIS I stood at the head of the hall, my hand resting lightly on the back of Lira’s chair, listening to Ronan speak. His voice echoed just enough to remind us all why we were really here. "Alright, as beautiful as all these long-lost family moments are,” Ronan began, flashing a small grin, “we didn’t come back just to cry and sniff each other’s hair.” A few chuckles rumbled through the hall—Kora rolled her eyes, Seraphina smirked into her cup, and even Tobias cracked a grin. But I could feel the shift in Ronan’s tone even before the humor faded from his face. “We come bearing news from the Village of Enomenos,” he said. Just like that, the air changed. I straightened. “Then we need to meet. We’ll keep this here brief and move to the war room.” “Thoren, Tobias, you and your daughters stay,” I added, catching my mate’s gaze and brushing my fingers across her hand. “You deserve the time to catch up.” “But unfortunately for Elias,” Ronan smirked over his should
ELIAS The warmth of the dining hall clashed with the tension humming beneath my skin. We’d only just returned—Thoren, Ronan, Kora, and I—bringing news from the nearby village. We hadn’t been gone long, but in war, every hour stretched thin. Every moment was weighted. And yet, in the middle of it all, I found myself rooted in place—not by dread, not by urgency—but by a scent. I froze near the entrance, my breath catching. It drifted through the air, cutting through the aromas of roasted meat, earth, and fire. This scent was different. Unmistakable. Fresh rain on wildflowers. Sweet… and wild. Mate. My head snapped toward the far end of the hall. And that’s when I saw her. She stood beside Dain, half-shielded by the curve of his arm. Her gaze was already on me. Wide-eyed. Curious. Like she felt it too. No—she knew. The world narrowed. Sounds dimmed. I took a step forward before I even realized I was moving. My heart thundered in my chest as I closed
SERAPHINA The warmth of familiar arms still lingered on my skin. I was wrapped in it—reunion, laughter, tears. The scent of my mother, the comforting cadence of Tobias’s voice, even Morgana’s sharp, dry wit—it all created a fragile kind of joy, stitched together by disbelief. I was home. Somehow. Even though the walls were different, the ground colder, and the people scarred by what had come before, I was here. After so long, I let myself breathe again. Because suddenly, something cold twisted in my gut. My father. The joy faded from my face like ash on the wind. I turned sharply, searching the faces around me—Tobias, Morgana, Dain. Dain. He stood near the fire, his arms crossed, face half-cast in shadow. “Dain,” I said, stepping forward. “Valenwood… what happened to it? Where’s my father? Is he still—” I couldn’t finish the question. My voice cracked, and the unspoken horrors hung between us like smoke. His jaw tightened, lips pressing into a thin l