First Person PerspectiveAresI couldn’t help but laugh at how stupid Elena was. Every time I showed her a fake smile, she returned it with that hopeful glint in her eyes, like a starving dog lapping up scraps. Every time I said something kind,some hollow reassurance about her place in the pack,she swallowed it whole, desperate for validation. She truly believed I was trying to be her friend, that I was the one person in this damned pack who actually gave a damn about her. Pathetic. She was so desperate for acceptance that she didn’t even notice the trap tightening around her. I didn’t have to do much,just pretend to listen, nod at the right moments, offer a well-timed compliment or a sympathetic frown. It was almost too easy. She was so starved for connection that she didn’t question why I, of all people, would bother with her. Salvatore had grown weak. Soft. I heard it with my own ears,him telling one of the elders that he *loved* her. *Loved her.* The Alpha of our pack, the
Third Person PerspectiveSalvatoreSalvatore sat alone in the war room, the only light coming from the faint glow of candles flickering against the stone walls. His fingers ran over the map of his territory, tracing the borders he’d fought to expand, but his mind was far away. It wasn’t the plans for the war or the movements of the enemy that consumed him,it was the image of Elena’s tear-streaked face after Hermoine’s attack. He could still hear the desperate words Hermoine had spat at him, and more haunting, the moment when his own mate had been hurt right before his eyes.“She doesn’t belong here,” Hermoine had screamed. “You’ll regret this, Salvatore. She’ll destroy you.”The words echoed in his head, growing louder with each passing minute. He could still see Elena’s face, eyes wide with shock, the disbelief that someone,someone from their own pack,would do such a thing. And the worst part? That he hadn’t been able to stop it fast enough. The sound of Elena’s body hitting the grou
First Person’s PerspectiveElenaThe morning air was quiet, almost too quiet.Birds chirped softly in the distance, and the dew still clung to the grass, glistening like tiny crystals under the rising sun. But none of it brought me peace. Not today. I walked through the training grounds alone, my boots crunching against the gravel path as I tried to shake the heavy feeling pressing against my chest.Salvatore hadn’t spoken to me since the day before. No messages. No glances. No warmth. Just… silence.A part of me kept replaying his words,the ones I wasn’t meant to hear. She’s a weakness. Loving her clouds things. Each time, they hit like a stone to the ribs.I hadn’t slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face, distant and cold, like I was just another soldier under his command. Was he regretting everything? Was I just a mistake he was now trying to fix?A loud noise shattered my spiraling thoughts.It echoed from the main pack house. Shouting. Screaming.I froze mid-step, the
First Person’s PerspectiveElenaI stood by the window, watching the sun slowly fade behind the tall pines that lined the edge of the estate. The sky was melting into shades of orange and purple, casting long shadows across the stone courtyard below. It should have been beautiful. Peaceful. But to me, it only felt like another sunset I was spending alone.Another day without Salvatore.He hadn’t come to see me. Again.I rested my forehead against the cold glass, trying to steady the storm of thoughts in my mind. It wasn’t just about him being busy anymore. I understood responsibilities. I understood the weight of leadership. But this felt different.Distant. Deliberate.He used to pull me into his arms the second he saw me. Used to brush his thumb across my cheek and whisper that I made everything easier. Now, I was lucky if I got a nod in the hallway. Lucky if he even made eye contact.At first, I told myself not to overthink it. War was coming. Maybe it was already here. But each da
First Person’s PerspectivePercyI wasn’t trying to eavesdrop or listen in on their conversationHonestly, I wasn’t. I had gone down to the kitchen for something sweet to calm my nerves, something to soothe the uneasy and anxious feeling that I felt, sleep had been impossible lately, especially with Ron pacing at night like a caged wolf. I stirred honey into my tea with half frozen fingers, muttering under my breath about the godforsaken draft in the corridor window again. My slippers made soft thuds against the cold stone floors as I made my way back upstairs.That’s when I heard his voice.Ron.He was in the study. The door—careless, as always—was left slightly ajar, just enough to let a voice slip through the crack like smoke.“I told you already,” Ron said. His tone wasn’t loud, but it cut through the silence like a blade. Sharp, deliberate. “Borin and Terak were careless. They let their egos get in the way. Salvatore retaliated, just like I warned them he would. But now it’s time
Third Person LimitedSalvatoreThe wind howled outside the fortress walls like a living thing—restless, angry, relentless. The sound reverberated through the stone corridors of the stronghold, rattling windowpanes and stirring the flames in wall sconces. Inside the war room, Salvatore sat behind his large oak desk, unmoving, a shadow among maps and ledgers. His elbows rested heavily on the desk’s surface, his fingers rhythmically tapping against the edge, creating a sound that was steady but unthinking. His eyes, sharp as a predator’s and dark as midnight, stared blankly at the battlefield map spread out before him.Colored pins pierced through various points across the map—markers of skirmishes lost and won, key resource routes, ambush sites, suspected enemy hideouts. The map looked more like a bleeding carcass than a strategy guide. But none of that held his focus now.What haunted him—what clung to the edges of his mind like a thorn embedded under skin—were the scout’s words.“They