The Silverfang throne room was a theater of shadows. Moonlight spilled in through the arched windows, pooling around Elora like a spotlight as she sat on her obsidian throne. Her silver hair was coiled into a regal braid, the crown of intertwined wolf fangs and silver ivy glinting under the blood moon’s glow. Kerric stood beside her, as always. His emerald eyes seemed softer now, filled with adoration—or so the pack believed. He bent slightly, murmuring close to her ear. “You’ve done well, my queen. The clans adore you. They would die for you.” Elora let a small smile play across her lips. It was the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “As they should,” she said, her voice silken. “But loyalty is fickle. Even wolves turn on their own when blood is spilled.” Kerric chuckled, a warm sound that made the warriors around the room relax. “They won’t turn. Not while you stand beside me.” She didn’t answer. Her fingers drummed on the armrest, her eyes scanning the room like a predato
The throne room’s polished marble floor was streaked with blood. Shadows curled like vipers along the walls, whispering secrets only Joel could hear. He stood there—bare-chested, battered, but unbroken—his golden eyes blazing as they locked on Kerric.Kerric stood between Joel and Elora, a predator’s smirk on his face. The emerald glow in his eyes wasn’t warmth anymore—it was malice barely restrained.“Joel.” Elora’s voice cracked. She stood frozen beside her throne, fingers trembling against the armrest. “Stop this. Whatever you think Kerric did—”“He did do it, Elora!” Joel’s roar made the chandeliers tremble. His claws gleamed under the blood moonlight spilling through shattered windows. “He poisoned Maren. He led your enemies right to your gates. He’s the reason I had to disappear.”Kerric tilted his head, his smirk sharpening. “You hear that, Elora? The mad Alpha spinning tales again. Next, he’ll say I cursed the moon itself.”Joel’s chest heaved. “You don’t even deny it anymore.
The blood moon’s light streamed through shattered windows, painting the throne room in crimson and gold. Guards and nobles pressed themselves against the walls, afraid to breathe as two predators circled each other in the center.Joel—scarred,silver eye turned golden eyes blazing like a dying star.Kerric—calm, blade dripping with silver ready to attack and kill Joel.“Elora!” Kerric barked, not looking at her. “Leave now. This is not your fight and it doesn't concern you ".But her feet wouldn’t move. Her chest felt torn in two as she stared at Joel, memories clawing at the corners of her mind. His voice. His arms. His love.“This isn’t you, Joel,” she whispered. “You don’t have to do this.”Joel’s gaze flicked to hers, pain flashing in his eyes. “This isn’t vengeance, Elora. This is justice for how he treated me.”Then the fight began.(The Clash)Joel lunged first, claws flashing. Kerric met him with steel, sparks exploding as fang met blade. Every strike was brutal, precise. Joel
The scent of iron and fear hung heavy in Silverfang’s air. It started small—an advisor and his cub found dead in his quarters, throat slit cleanly with no trace of an intruder. Then another—poisoned wine at a celebratory feast. The third? Found hanging from the northern watchtower, a message carved into his chest:"I remember."The Hybrid Queen’s court(elora's new found place)buzzed with whispers.“Elora… it’s him.”“It can’t be.”“He’s dead" kerric said—Kerric slammed a fist onto the council table, silencing them. “Joel is gone. You’ve all let fear cloud your minds. These killings are the work of a rogue loyalist, nothing more.”But even his voice wavered.Elora sat stiffly on her throne, her silver gaze unfocused. The name haunted her dreams. The shadow of a man she couldn’t place, couldn’t name… yet whose presence felt like a missing piece of her soul.“Joel,” she whispered under her breath.Kerric noticed, his emerald eyes narrowing. “Your Majesty,” he said softly, too softly. “Y
The throne room of Silverfang had changed.Once a battlefield soaked in blood and ash, it now gleamed with ivory marble floors veined in silver. Massive chandeliers dripped with crystals that reflected the pale light of the moon. Banners of the Hybrid Queen’s sigil—an intertwined wolf and crescent moon—hung proudly on every wall.At the center sat Elora.She looked every bit the queen they hailed her to be—back straight, silver hair flowing down her shoulders like liquid light, a crown of black iron and moonstone resting on her head. Her eyes, cold and unyielding, swept over her court like a blade.But inside, she was restless.A gnawing ache festered in her chest. Unseen. Unnamed. A void where something—someone—should have been. She ignored it as she always did, burying the unease beneath her regal mask.“Kerric,” she called, her voice even.The man at her side turned, bowing slightly. He was dressed in his usual dark green tunic, a faint smile curving his lips. His emerald eyes spar
The forest was alive with whispers.Elora moved silently through the undergrowth, her senses tuned to every sound—the rustle of leaves, the crack of twigs, the occasional distant howl. Her power still felt raw, unstable, but she refused to stay caged in the camp like a wounded animal. She needed to see the threat with her own eyes.“You shouldn’t be out here alone.”Elora didn’t flinch. She’d felt Kerric before she heard him.He stepped out from the shadows, his cloak blending seamlessly into the darkness. His blade was already drawn, the edge catching faint starlight.“I wasn’t alone,” she said coolly. “Not anymore.”Kerric gave her a wry smile as he fell into step beside her. “Your stubbornness is going to be the death of me, Queen Elora.”She glanced at him, her lips twitching faintly. “Then why follow me?”“Because I’d rather face death at your side than live knowing I let you walk into it.” His voice was steady, sure. Too sure.They reached a clearing where moonlight spilled like