Masuk
Since childhood, Kael had been taught that the idea of a fated mate was nothing more than a romanticized curse. His parents drilled it into him that such bonds were not gifts, but traps, designed by the Moon Goddess herself to control the most powerful among their kind.
“Fated mates are weaknesses, Kael,” his father had once said, voice cold and certain. “Never make the mistake of accepting them, because they make even the strongest alphas fall.” To drive the lesson home, they told him the tragic tale of two powerful Alphas, one was alpha Greg and the other was her great grandfather Alpha Greg once a revered leader, strong, fearless, and unmatched in battle. But all of that changed the day his mate got taken by rogues. He moved heaven and earth to find her, launched countless raids, and spilled rivers of blood to bring her home. Yet in the end, it wasn’t enough. They killed her right in front of him. And that was when the real horror began. Grief twisted Greg into something unrecognizable. He turned on his own pack, blinded by fury and sorrow. Friends, warriors, even family, none were spared. By the time he regained a shred of sanity, nearly half his pack lay dead. And in a final, heart-wrenching act of despair, the once-great alpha ripped out his own heart and ended his misery. The remnants of his territory now lie in ruins, nothing but scorched earth and broken bones, a haven for the very rogues who had destroyed it. This was the tales Kael grew up with. This was the legacy burned into his mind. To want a mate was to invite destruction. And so, for the longest time, Kael believed he didn’t need one at all. In the Shadow Moon Pack, the ancient ritual of seeking and waiting for one’s fated mate was long abolished. It was not a forgotten tradition, but one deliberately buried and banned by decree of Alpha David Berleville, the current head of the Berleville bloodline and direct descendant of the legendary Alpha Riftan Berleville. David hadn’t made the decision lightly. It stemmed from history, his family’s history, marked by betrayal, obsession, and bloodshed. He had grown up to see the tragic end of his parents. Alpha Riftan Berleville had once been the pride of the werewolf world: powerful, proud, and seemingly untouchable. He led with unmatched strength and ruled over one of the largest territories during an era when peace was fragile, and dominance was everything. His mate, Sarah, was said to be a vision, so breathtakingly beautiful, she was often called the Moon’s Envy. Her presence alone sparked envy from every corner. And though Riftan had claimed her fully, the desire she stirred in others never faded. Alphas from neighboring packs, even allies, began to covet what was not theirs. They saw Sarah not only as a prize but a power to be seized. Offers were made, veiled threats were whispered, and when persuasion failed, war broke out. The jealousy was so fierce, so consuming, that it ignited an era of endless conflict. The enemies rose but Riftan crushed them. His strength was legendary, and his love for Sarah was unshakable. The more the packs failed, the more determined they became. The were-council tried to intervene, calling for peace, but their efforts barely held. The bloodshed only paused, never ended. Eventually, the opposing alphas came to a brutal conclusion: Riftan must fall. They believed that by eliminating him, they could claim his power, his lands, and most of all, his mate. However, no matter how cunning their plots or how vast their armies, none of the rival alphas could defeat Riftan. His power was simply unmatched, unyielding, like a force of nature. For years, they fought, conspired, and struck from the shadows, yet everytime, Riftan emerged victorious. Eventually, they uncovered one truth they had long overlooked: Riftan’s strength wasn’t entirely his own. It was Sarah's too. The bond between them, forged by the Moon Goddess herself, had become more than symbolic. A fated mate was more than a partner, they were the missing half of a soul. And once the soul was whole, it became something immortal, untouchable. Riftan’s power was amplified by Sarah’s presence. Her nearness fueled his resolve, sharpened his senses, and magnified his strength. United, they were unstoppable. So, the strategy changed. If they could not defeat him in battle, they would separate him from the source of his power. Among the rival alphas, one in particular burned with a poisonous envy. His name was lost to time, but his obsession was not. Though he already had a mate of his own, he became consumed with the desire to possess Sarah. Her beauty, her grace, the very idea of her belonging to someone else, especially someone like Riftan, was unbearable. He tried diplomacy. He tried blackmail. He tried sorcery. And when all else failed, he chose destruction. In a final act of cowardice, he enlisted human hunters, mercenaries with no respect for the old laws, no fear of the Moon Goddess. He pointed them toward Sarah and whispered promises of wealth. What he couldn’t have, no one would. The hunters struck swiftly, without warning. And Sarah, despite all her strength and grace, was mortal, she was fatally wounded when Riftan was away but died before he got back home. The moment Riften felt his connection to her breaking, something inside him shattered. The mighty alpha, once feared across every border, fell into ruin. He stopped leading. Stopped speaking. He barely ate, and when he did, it was only to drown himself in wine and grief. His once-proud howl was never heard again. Some say he sat for days beside her grave, whispering apologies to the earth. He did not die in battle. He died slowly, piece by piece, until there was nothing left of the alpha the world had once known. It was his son who eventually stepped forward, David Berleville, still young, but with a fire in his eyes not born of pride, but pain. David had seen firsthand the cost of that belief. He grew up amidst the ashes of a golden age that turned into a cautionary tale. His father’s mind never fully recovered, and his mother’s presence faded into ghost stories told around dying fires. He took up the mantle of Alpha not out of desire, but necessity. And from that moment on, he ruled with a different vision. One carved not from dreams of power, but from a promise never to repeat his father’s fate. He outlawed the search for fated mates, branding them not as blessings, but as vulnerabilities. For him, and for the Shadow Moon Pack, love was not sacred. Love was dangerous. And never again would the Shadow Moon Pack allow a mate to be its downfall. Upon taking over the pack, Alpha David Berleville wasted no time in solidifying his rule, not just through strength, but through fear, order, and painful sacrifice. There would be no searching for fated mates. No rituals. No ceremonies. Love, he said, could be chosen, controlled. Because when love was destined, it could also be used as a weapon. One of his first and most controversial decrees was absolute and final: “If any member of this pack finds their fated mate, they are to reject each other immediately and find another to mate with or face execution.” To David, this was not cruelty. It was survival. A mate, he believed, was a flaw in one’s armor, a vulnerability that could be used to bring even the strongest to ruin. He had lived through the aftermath of his father’s collapse. He had seen the blood-stained walls of the once-mighty Berleville stronghold. And he would never allow history to repeat itself. At first, the pack was unsettled. Many whispered in the shadows, questioning his rule, unable to imagine rejecting what the Moon Goddess had destined for them. A few even dared to rebel, some tried to leave in secret, hoping to escape to packs with more merciful laws. But none succeeded. Alpha David always found them, then he would drag them back to the heart of the pack grounds, where all could see. And without hesitation or mercy, would executed them publicly, marking their deaths as a warning. “Let this be a lesson,” he would say coldly. “A pack survives through strength, not sentiment.” Over time, resistance faded. Fear settled deep into the bones of every member, and soon, no one dared question the alpha’s law again. Fated mates became a myth best left unspoken. Any strange bond or magnetic connection was buried, denied, and forgotten. Love became a choice, a calculated, controlled act for the sake of continuity. And David practiced what he preached. When he found his fated mate, the bond struck him like lightning, overwhelming, undeniable. She was radiant, everything he had ever imagined and more. But he didn’t hesitate. With the entire pack watching, he looked her in the eyes and rejected her. Her expression, some say, haunted him for years. Others believe he felt nothing at all. He later took another woman, one of strength and political advantage, as his chosen mate and produced heirs through that union. But the story of his rejected mate lived on in hushed tones and broken hearts, a silent reminder of the price he demanded of them all. To the Shadow Moon Pack, love was not destiny. It was a risk. And Alpha David had taught them what risks were worth dying for, and which ones weren’t. Perhaps it was the weight of Alpha David's law, the cruelty of it, the way it silenced the very concept of soul bonds that something in the world shifted. Over time, stories of fated mates began to dwindle. Not just within the Shadow Moon Pack, but across other territories as well. It was as if the Moon Goddess herself had turned her face away, or perhaps she’d grown weary of watching her gifts rejected and slaughtered in the name of power. Regardless of the cause, fated mates became increasingly rare, their existence dismissed as ancient folklore rather than divine reality. Still, David ensured the tradition he began would live on. When his only son, Rodrick, was just ten, he chose a female for him, a strong, obedient girl from a trusted family, trained to be a perfect Luna. There would be no uncertainty, no room for the chaos of unexpected bonds. And when Rodrick turned eighteen, he marked her publicly. Her name was Veronica, and she became Luna of the Shadow Moon Pack. Rodrick ruled with the same cold efficiency as his father, ensuring the law remained untouched. But he took things a step further, refining the practice of arranged matings into a full political strategy. When his own son, Kael, was born, Rodrick wasted no time to forged a powerful alliance by betrothing Kael to the daughter of an allied alpha, an ambitious, battle-hardened she-wolf named Lilian. Not only would their union strengthen the pack’s bloodline, but it would also guarantee military and territorial support in the years to come. Kael didn’t protest. If anything, he admired the legacy he was born into. He had been raised on stories of Alpha Riftan’s tragic downfall, Alpha David’s ruthless reforms, and the price of sentiment. To him, love was unnecessary, a distraction that only existed in dusty legends. Power was what mattered. Besides, fated mates were rare now, practically extinct, so why waste time chasing a myth? So, Kael accepted his fate with pride. He trained for leadership, prepared for his arranged union, and never once imagined that destiny might have other plans.The pack house was quiet in the gray light of early morning, the kind of quiet that felt heavy, and expectant. Maxine had been in the lower dungeon for two days now, stone walls damp with centuries of secrets, iron bars that smelled faintly of old blood and wolfsbane. They’d bound her wrists again, though the rope felt almost unnecessary; she hadn’t fought, hadn’t spoken, hadn’t even cried out when the cell door clanged shut. She’d simply sat on the cold floor, knees drawn to her chest, staring at the small barred window high above where the first pale fingers of dawn were beginning to creep in. She didn’t know what they’d done to Kael. And everytime she tried to ask the guards they just averted their eyes and remain tight lipped. Being apart from Kael hurt worse than any chain.Meanwhile, upstairs, in the heir’s suite, rooms Kael had once called his own before exile, he woke slowly, head pounding like someone had driven spikes behind his eyes. The sheets were tangled around his legs,
MAXINE Everything is a blur of gray shadows and the sound of my own blood rushing in my ears. The Memory-Weaver’s voice is a swarm of insects, biting at the air, unpicking the threads of Kael’s soul right in front of me. I lock my fingers together so tight the bones ache, my whole body vibrating with a terror I can’t let out.Across the courtyard, Kael was like a trapped storm. He isn't a man anymore; He threw his entire weight against the enforcers, his muscles cording like steel cables, his fury blazed with a golden light that seemed to defy the sedative in his blood. Every cell in me screams to run to him. To throw myself between his beautiful, broken mind and the cold cruelty of his father.But I’m anchored. One girl against a pack of monsters. A flicker of candlelight in a hurricane. My body knows it. My fear knows it. And my voice, that cursed, broken cage, betrays me again. I open my mouth, desperate to scream his name, to tell him to hold on, to promise I’ll find him in the
The air in the courtyard was electric, a storm front moving in. Kael ignored Lillian’s poisonous words as if she were nothing more than a ghost. His entire world had narrowed down to the small, trembling girl at his side. He tried to lunge for her, but his knees buckled, the ground rushing up to meet him before the enforcers caught his arms.“Max—” he choked out.Roderick simply flicked his hand casually, sending two more enforcers to tear them apart.“Get your filthy hands off her!” Kael thundered. The sound didn't come from his throat; it came from his soul, cracking through the silence of the courtyard like a mountain splitting in half.The pack flinched as one. Even the older wolves, seasoned by decades of violence, felt a primal shiver. They hadn't known Kael was capable of such raw, devastating rage. Despite the heavy sludge of wolfsbane and the paralyzing agents screaming through his veins, his muscles corded with a strength that shouldn't have been possible. He nearly thr
Max climbed into the van without a word or a glance at the others. No one had to tell her. She simply moved, small, and determined, sundress still damp at the hem, straight to where they’d laid Kael across the bench seat. She slid in beside him, lifted his head with careful hands, and settled it in her lap as though the rest of the world had ceased to exist.His breathing was shallow, ragged at the edges. Every few seconds his lips moved, forming her name in a soft, broken whisper.“Max…”Then, fainter:“Run… hide… I’ll find you… later…”Even drugged, even half-gone, he was still trying to save her.She didn’t answer. She only cradled his face closer, fingers threading through his hair, thumb brushing the bruise blooming along his jaw. Tears slipped down her cheeks in silent tracks, dripping onto his shirt, darkening the fabric in small, perfect circles.The van doors closed. The engine growled awake. Tires bit gravel, then asphalt, carrying them away from the boardwalk, the melting s
The date had been a dream, a fragile, silver-tipped miracle that felt like the first page of a different life. They walked down the creaking stairs together, her hand steady in his, and stepped out into the salt-damp evening. The air was cool and clean, carrying the low murmur of waves and the faint, metallic tang of low tide. The beach stretched ahead, nearly empty: only a few distant dog-walkers silhouetted against the horizon and the occasional cry of gulls wheeling overhead. The sky had gone bruised lavender, the sea restless under the last of the light.Kael slipped off his shoes first, toes curling into the cool sand. He knelt in front of Maxine without a word, gentle fingers undoing the straps of her sandals, lifting each foot in turn so she could step free, his touch careful, reverent, never lingering too long.They walked barefoot along the wet, packed sand where the waves could reach them. Fingers laced, they matched pace without trying. The water rushed up to kiss their ank
Simone Velariz stood motionless behind the counter long after the bell had stilled and the last echo of boots on gravel had faded into the night. He lifted the coffee cup with the slow reverence of someone who had learned to savor small, mortal things, because eternity had taught him how quickly even the bitterest tastes could vanish.The steam curled upward like a sigh. He let the heat linger on his tongue, rolling it across the roof of his mouth, drawing out the moment. Memories, he had discovered, tasted better when you gave them time to burn.He was Veilborn. Not wolf, not fae, not human but something older, something that had slipped between the cracks of creation when the world was still deciding what rules it would follow. Centuries ago he had walked out of the veil’s silvered halls, leaving behind the endless politics of beings who measured time in epochs rather than heartbeats. To his own kind he was a rogue, a defector who had chosen dust and diesel over starlight and silenc
The train hissed to a stop at last, metal screaming softly as it settled into the platform. After endless hours packed into the carriage, Kael guided Max out with a protective hand at her back, his eyes already scanning the unfamiliar station. The town was wrong in the way only new places were, too
Ginny’s fury rolled through the empty house like choking smoke. She stopped just inside the doorway, taking in the chaos with widening, disbelieving eyes. They had assumed Max had failed to call, because she was still buried under chores, too slow, and too overwhelmed to keep up.But this? This was
KAELI wanted to find every person who’d ever mocked her for that stutter and tear their world apart. My wolf, Blade, was pacing behind my ribs, snarling at the memory of her saying her mother called her voice a "nuisance."I kept my ears tuned to the woods. We were safe for the night, but tomorr
KAEL“I… I h-have… to… go b-back…” she said, her voice, barely a whisper, each word dragged out like it cost her something precious. “G-Ginny w-would… would b-be… mad if… if I d-didn’t.”The name hit me like a fist to the sternum. I couldn’t help it when my voice came out sharper than I meant, almo







