Chapter 1

Lysandra POV

The wolves of the Shadowmoon Pack let out a powerful howl, responding to their Alpha’s call. Their voices intertwined in a fierce harmony, echoing through the forest like a testament to their unity and strength. The wild chorus rose toward the star-studded sky, making the leaves tremble.

Suddenly, a deep voice shattered the harmony, and silence fell. The Alpha of the Crimson Fang Pack stepped forward, his dark irises locking onto me.

"She's the one I want."

Flashback (Two Days Ago)

For as long as I can remember, my existence has been synonymous with ignorance and mockery. I grew up in a pack where the gift of shifting into a wolf is an indelible mark of our ancestral bloodline. But I am different. I have never possessed that primal strength, never felt the ability to embrace my wild nature or hunt beneath the moon’s glow.

I am just a human living among wolves. They mocked me, calling me weak and a disgrace to our lineage. Still, I remained silent, burying my emotions deep within.

Yet life had to be crueler still. I was the eldest daughter of Alpha Draven, leader of the Shadowmoon Pack. Naturally, I was a disappointment, a failure to my family. My father could never hide his shame. He had hoped for a fierce heiress, a powerful wolf. Instead, he had a human daughter with no shifting gift. To preserve the pack’s honor, he pushed me to the margins, far from judgmental eyes.

So I lived like a hermit in a small den where winters were harsh and summers suffocating. Sometimes, I would watch the pack, see them shift, hunt, feast, and play. I envied them. I dreamed of another life… a life where I met my wolf or let her merge with my essence. But the truth remained, I was human, condemned to solitude forever.

"Is that what you want?" a male voice barked, followed by a woman’s amused chuckle.

I turned. Behind me stood Seraphine, Kael, and Fenris in his wolf form. Seraphine was a striking woman, her fiery hair cascading over her shoulders, framing delicate and symmetrical features. To her right stood Kael, unchanged, tall, imposing. His short brown hair framed a stern, determined face, and his piercing blue eyes seemed to search through everything. Fenris, beside Seraphine, flaunted his vivid red fur with a chunk of meat, my meat, hanging between his fangs.

Their eyes gleamed with malicious mischief. I sighed and ignored them. Challenging them was pointless. And nothing would bring my food back; Fenris had already made it his lunch.

I turned away and followed the forest path to my den. Fenris leapt forward, blocking my way. He threw a half-chewed piece of meat at my feet. I instinctively stepped back, wary.

"Look at you. You're pathetic," Seraphine chuckled. "No one cares about you. No friends, no gifts… You're just a total failure."

"You are a disgrace to our bloodline. You live only because you're the Alpha’s offspring. Otherwise, your worthless little life would’ve ended long ago," Kael spat.

I was used to this, but habit never numbed the pain. Their cruelty still pierced deep. I searched for an escape, but the trees seemed to close around me, trapping me like prey surrounded by predators, predators who were supposed to be my family.

"You're going to make her cry. That’s not very nice, Seraphine," Fenris mocked as he shifted back into human form.

"Don’t be mistaken, Fenris. I can be very nice. Besides, I actually have good news." Seraphine smirked. "Your sister is getting married in a few days. You probably won't be invited; we can’t risk you humiliating us in front of the Crimson Fang Pack. But you can still be happy for her, right?"

They burst into laughter and finally left.

I frowned, replaying Seraphine’s words. My sister was getting married to someone from the Crimson Fang Pack. I couldn’t understand. The Shadowmoon Pack and Crimson Fang Pack had been rivals for centuries. Why would my father suddenly agree to a union?

I narrowed my eyes. Something was missing. Tension had reigned for generations. Our ways of life were too different for peace. The Crimson Fang Pack was infamous for its savagery. So why would Alpha Draven, respected leader of the Shadowmoon Pack, give his cherished daughter to our enemies?

Our ancestors warned us of the devastation caused by mingling with the Crimson Fang Pack. Whenever our paths crossed, bloodshed followed.

This marriage violated every sacred law of our pack.

I wandered through the woods, trying to untangle my thoughts. My father’s decision gnawed at me. Why risk everything? Why give my sister to an enemy? Was there a hidden reason?

We were never close; my weakness ensured that. Yet I still felt sad that we couldn’t share a bond.

Suddenly, a noise snapped me out of my thoughts. The forest’s silence was ruptured. Instinctively, my senses sharpened. My muscles tensed.

A shadow shifted near a shrub. I approached slowly, hand poised on my bowstring.

A small wolf pup emerged.

Its silvery-gray fur was streaked with thin black markings along its legs and back. Piercing blue eyes stared up at me with curiosity and caution. Its ears twitched, catching even the faintest sounds. Its elongated muzzle held innocence and gentleness.

The pup was young, limbs frail, movements clumsy. Silky fur stuck out in soft tufts, sprinkled with leaves and twigs.

I stayed still, then knelt slowly, setting aside my bow to show I meant no harm. The pup approached, sniffing my hand. Its tiny claws brushed my skin, its fur tickling my fingers. It seemed intrigued.

It pressed its head gently into my palm, as if seeking comfort. Its eyelids drooped with exhaustion.

I examined it more closely. I didn’t recognize this pup, not from the Shadowmoon Pack. The black markings were unusual for our wolves. I had no idea which pack it belonged to. Perhaps it wandered too far and got lost.

He was too exhausted to shift back. I couldn’t leave him alone in this state. My heart tightened.

I decided to take him with me, feed him, and let him rest so he could shift and speak.

He didn’t protest when I lifted him. I secured him carefully behind me with the cloth I used for supplies; he was too heavy to carry in my arms the whole way.

At home, I set him down gently and prepared a soft bed of wool blankets and cushions. I brought him water and food. His eyes flicked between the plate and me before he began eating.

Afterward, he fell asleep. I stored the meat I had hunted earlier, then lit the fireplace. Warm light spread through my den, filling it with comfort. Exhausted, I rested in the corner, lulled by the crackling fire.

I woke to the sound of footsteps, unfamiliar in my solitary home.

A young boy, about five years old, stood before me. Curly brown hair framed his innocent face, cheeks slightly flushed. The wolf pup had shifted back, wrapped in a blanket. I stood, relieved.

"Hey there," I said softly, approaching slowly. "My name is Lysandra. Did you get lost in the woods?"

He nodded shyly, then whispered hesitantly, "Are you… going to help me find my parents?"

Touched, I smiled warmly. "I’ll do everything I can, okay?"

"Thank you, Lysandra. You’re so kind."

His innocence made me laugh softly. "You're welcome, big guy. But I still don’t know your name."

He looked at me with earnest eyes. "My name is Arion."

"That’s a beautiful name, Arion. Do you think you can find your way back?"

He shook his head sadly. "No… I walked a lot. I was tired. Then I got lost."

I gently took his hand. "Don’t worry, Arion. We’ll find a solution. You’ll see your parents again, I promise. Can you describe your home?"

He thought hard. "My house is very big. My dad painted the door blue because I like that color. And my mom… she put flowers everywhere because she thinks they’re pretty. But my dad and I don’t like them."

I laughed softly. "Is your house close to other homes?"

He nodded. "My friend’s house is next to ours. After school, we play near the river."

"The river? There’s a stream near your home?" Again, he nodded.

There was only one river in the region, 20 kilometers from here. A four-hour walk. And I had no idea which pack lived near those lands.

Venturing there was risky. But I had to help Arion.

So I prepared water, food, and a compass. I dressed Arion in some of my clothes, worn, but warm enough. He could shift whenever he wished; I wouldn’t force him.

I strapped my bow to my back. Arion looked anxious, so I ruffled his hair reassuringly before we began our journey.

We moved through the dense forest, following a narrow path north toward the river. The forest was quiet except for rustling leaves and whistling wind.

After hours of walking, we reached a clearing and took a break. I ensured Arion ate enough to regain his strength.

We continued. Ten kilometers remained. Arion seemed happier, jumping around me with youthful energy.

But then, muffled growls echoed. I scanned the surroundings.

Wolves emerged from the bushes. I placed Arion behind me, tension thick in the air.

I bent my knees, ready. My eyes darted across the pack, searching for intent. I knew this territory wasn’t ours.

The wolves advanced with stealthy precision. I tried to appear confident to deter them, but they didn’t waver; they charged.

I fired arrows rapidly, striking a few but not stopping all. My quiver emptied too quickly.

I was thrown to the ground, my back pressed against the cold, damp earth. Darkness surrounded me. Rain battered my skin, soaking through my clothes.

My heart pounded relentlessly.

A massive wolf towered above me, unlike any I had seen. Its eyes gleamed with raw ferocity.

A startling transformation began. Paws became hands, hands that clamped around my wrists with inhuman power. His face shifted, bones reshaping, eyes glowing with an eerie light, irises black as the night around us.

My instincts screamed to flee, yet I was trapped by his stare. Muscles rippled beneath skin as he completed the shift, predatory, powerful, wild.

His breath was ragged, as if he battled his own beast within. He leaned closer, eyes burning into mine. He seemed on the verge of speaking.

"Uncle Varyon!" Arion cried.