The alpha's inheritance

Oliver Knox’s POV:

Mrs. Grenade’s quiet sobs showed no signs of stopping as the shadows of the forest swallowed the path back.

“My poor Malory,” she wept, leaning heavily against her husband. “Just yesterday, she was still happily telling me how excited she was to wear her best dress to the party tonight. Why did this have to happen...”

“Don't speak like that, Lucy,” Mr. Grenade comforted her softly, his voice thick with suppressed emotion. “What's done is done. We can't let ourselves be trapped in the past forever.”

A ragged, muffled cry escaped her throat.

“I just... I want to understand why. Why would she suddenly choose to leave us on such a celebratory night without a single warning?”

“Mother!”

Rhy emerged from the thick brush at the side of the trail. His hair was a chaotic, tangled mess, and water dripped heavily from his clothes. He looked as though he had only just pulled himself out of the freezing current.

Mrs. Grenade immediately lunged forward, throwing her arms around him.

“Rhy, I beg you. Please don't leave me too. I can't bear to lose another child.”

“I won't, Mom. I'll always be right here by your side,” Rhy promised, tightly gripping her trembling hand.

Mr. Grenade’s eyes were bloodshot, reflecting a profound sadness that he fought desperately to hide. He squeezed his wife's shoulder gently.

“Let's go home, Lucy. You need to rest. Don't let your grief place any more burdens on the children.”

My father stepped forward to personally escort Mr. and Mrs. Grenade back to their home. Before he walked away into the dark, he shot a lingering, heavy look over his shoulder directly at me.

I knew exactly what that look meant. Rhy and Malory had always shared an incredibly close bond, and I knew my friend was far from being as composed as he was trying to appear right now.

Even though I couldn't fathom the point of crying over a fragile human—especially one who didn't even share a drop of blood with our kind—Rhy was still my closest companion. He had always stood firmly by my side whenever I faced difficulties.

“Hey, man. How are you holding up?” I asked quietly, catching up to him as we walked side by side along the dark riverbank. A few lingering wolves walked a short distance ahead of us, heading back toward the main settlement.

“I just keep wishing I hadn't gotten so drunk tonight,” Rhy whispered, his eyes fixed on the ground. “I should have been looking out for her. She waited for me at every major pack event. I should have realized something was wrong when she told me she'd be arriving a little late.”

I reached out, placing a firm, reassuring hand on his damp shoulder.

“She wouldn't blame you, Rhy. You've always done more than enough for her.”

A quiet, choked sob escaped Rhy's throat.

“I spent my whole life trying to protect Malory. You know how unforgiving it is for a human to live in a territory like this, but she was doing so well. She was actually going to bake cookies for me tomorrow... she just learned the recipe from Aunt Susan.”

I kept my mouth shut, offering him nothing but a silent nod. My friend didn't need my advice right now; he just needed someone to listen while he vented his grief.

“She looked forward to tonight so much,” Rhy continued, his voice suddenly hardening with a dangerous edge. “She bought a beautiful new dress and matching shoes, but she didn't even get a chance to show them to me. How could things suddenly turn so dark? Something must have happened to her!”

My heart skipped a beat, a sharp jolt of adrenaline spiking through my veins. I carefully kept my expression blank, avoiding Rhy's sharp, angry gaze out of fear that he might notice a slip in my demeanor.

“How could anything have happened?” I lied smoothly, forcing a tone of calm logic. “You're overthinking things because you're hurting. We don't have anyone in this pack who would maliciously harm her.”

“She was always under an immense amount of pressure,” Rhy argued, shaking his head. “It’s exhausting trying to survive in a world made entirely for werewolves. A long time ago, she actually tried to leave the pack for good, but I managed to stop her. I promised her that I'd always be there to protect her.”

Rhy stopped dead in his tracks, turning to lock his fierce eyes directly onto mine.

“She has been genuinely happy lately, Oliver. Even if she had run into something upsetting, it wouldn't have driven her to leap off a cliff. Someone must have deeply hurt her tonight, or said something unforgivable to her. If I ever find out who pushed her to that edge, I swear to the Goddess I won't let them off alive!”

Facing the sheer volume of Rhy's wrath made a cold shiver run down my spine. He wasn't exaggerating. He was genuinely willing to spill blood for that human girl.

Deep down, however, I quietly reassured myself that it didn't matter. Unless Malory miraculously rose from the dead, no one would ever discover the conversation we shared on the cliffside before she jumped.

By the time we finally reached the pack house, my father was already waiting for me on the porch, standing as rigid and unmoving as a stone monument.

“Oliver,” my father spoke, his voice heavy with solemn gravity. “I believe it is best if we delay the succession ceremony for a few days. The Grenade family is buried under an unprecedented grief right now, and the entire territory is mourning the loss of Malory.”

I glanced back toward Rhy's retreating, despondent figure.

“Yes, Father,” I murmured respectfully. “I completely agree. It's the right choice.”

My father nodded once before turning to head inside. I could tell this entire ordeal had taken a massive toll on him; our pack hadn't suffered the loss of a member in a very long time.

“Hey... you know you didn't have to push back your big night just for my sake,” Rhy muttered quietly from the darkness as we walked toward our quarters.

“We're brothers, aren't we?” I replied smoothly, flashing him a supportive smile. “When I take the lead, I want you right beside me as my Beta, protecting this pack together.”

Rhy blinked, staring at me in absolute disbelief.

“Me? Are you serious?”

“Of course. I'm going to need your strength, brother.”

A look of profound gratitude washed over his worn face.

“I accept. Thank you, Oliver... for everything you've done for my family tonight. Malory really meant the world to me.”

We stepped forward and exchanged a fierce, tight hug before I watched him turn and head back into his home.

Three days later, just as planned, my Alpha succession ceremony was officially held. The entire territory gathered in a massive circle under the silver glow of the full moon, including the mourning Grenade family.

My parents and I stood directly in the center of the sacred clearing. With absolute solemnity, my father drew a traditional ceremonial dagger and handed it to me. The exact moment the moon reached its absolute peak in the night sky, I pressed the blade against my palm, slicing the flesh. The blood that dripped down the gleaming steel carried the ancient, divine lineage of generations of Alphas before me.

The moment the ritual bond snapped into place, I shifted into my massive black wolf, throwing my head back to let out a resonant, thunderous howl to the moon. In an instant, the entire pack joined in, their voices rising together in a deafening chorus of loyalty.

I was officially the Alpha of this pack now. And I would do absolutely whatever it took to secure and protect my future!