MasukThe morning after punishment was always the same. Pain
The wounds would ache, the air would sting around broken skin. And the pack would pretend it hadn't happened, as if erasing it from memory made it acceptable.
I woke before the others, as I usually did. The barrack was still filled with the deep, even breaths of wolves. The smell of damp straw and stale sweat hung in th eair. I rose quietly, my movements slow so i didn't pull the fresh scabs across my back.
The first thing I did was slip outside to the well. the water was icy, making my fingers burn as i drew it up in the bucket. I washed quickly, teeth clenched against the burn, the water turning faintly pink before swirling away in the dirt.
A shadow fell across me.
"Cleaning up after your latest failure, Selene?"
The voice was smug, sweetened with false innocence. I didn't have to turn to know who it was, Liora, the Alpha's daughter. Golden hair, perfect posture, the faint smell of rose clinging to her. She was only a year older than me, but her position gave her power sharper than any blade.
I turned away because not looking would be taken as defiance. Her blue eyes glittered in the morning light. She lifted her head, lips curving into something not quite like a smile.
"You should be grateful", she said, "that father hasn't thrown you out yet. Most packs don't tolerate mistakes"
Mistake, Curse-born, Burden. They had so many words for me. None of them was true, but truth didn't matter in Silvermoon; only the stories they wanted to tell.
I didn't answer. I had learned that words could be twisted faster than claws could cut.
Her eyes narrowed at my silence. "What? no apology? no promise to do better?"
My fingers tightened around the rope of the bucket. "Better than saving your life?" I asked quietly.
Her nostrils flared. "You tripped," iI continued, keeping my voice flat, "and i caught you. I could have let you hit the ground. you'd be limping for weeks, maybe worse. But i didn't. So if that's what you call failure..." i let the words hang
For a moment, i thought she might slap me. Instead, her smile returned, slow, thin, and almost dangerous. "Careful, Selene. Wolves without loyalty don't last long here."
She tured and walked away, her bare feet making no sound on the earth.
I exhaled slowly and returned to my washing, letting the cold water burn awy the heat in my ches. Confrontations with Liora were like stepping into a trap, one wrong move and you were caught. but there were days when swallowing my words was harder than bleeding for the pack.
By midday, I was in the forest again, this time for training. The younger wolves were sent to track and bring back small prey, rebbits, squirells, the ocassional fox to hone our instincts. It was a task i excelled at, though no one ever admitted it and i'm glad thy didn't let me sit it out.
The forest was quiet exept for the crunch of leaves beneath my feet. I moved low, scanning for movement. A flicker of brown came across my vision, a hare, darting through the underbush.
I shifted mid-stride, my body melting into fur and muscle. The scent of prey filled my nose, sharp and wild. My paws hit the earth with barely a sound as i pursued.
The chase was short. The kill was clean. I carried the hare back to the clearing, shifting again as i crossed the pack's border.
Rowan took it from me without a word. His eyes slid past me as if i were no more than a shadow.
I had gown used to it, the way they acknowledged my work without acknowleding me. It was easier than giving them the satisfaction of seeing me want recognition.
That night, the elders gathered around the great fire. Stories were told, as they always were when the hunt had gone well. Most were old tales of battles won, of alphas who had crushed enemies under tooth and claw. But one story caught my ear, because i hadn't heard it before.
It was told by elder Calen, his voice low and gravelly.
"There was a time," he said, "when Silvermoon stood at the brink of war. The bloodfang Pack was at our border, teeth bared. But before blood could spill, an alpha from far to the west came to speak with our leader. He offered an alliance. Strength for strength. Moon for moon."
I leaned closer to the fire, the warmth reaching my face.
"That alpha," Calen continued, "was unlike any we'd seen. His wolf was as black as shadow, eyes like molten lava maybe gold. far more stronger than any alpha we've seen, They say his name is Damiem".
The name meant nothing to me then. But something in the way Calen said it made it stick, like a burr caught in fur.
"Where is he now?" one of the younger wolves asked.
"Far away," Calen said. "The alliance faded. But wolves like that... they leave marks on the world. You'll hear his name again."
I didn't know it yet but he was right.
When i returned to my mat that night, I lay awake, staring at the dark rafters overhead. The fire's warmth had faded from my skin, but the mane lingered in my mind.
Damien.
I didn't know who he was. I didn't know that one day he would be the only person who would ever look at me and see more than the labels they'd given me.
But the moon was listening.
It always was.
Drifting off to sleep, I found myself floating. Wait, that wasn't right.
This place was dark and scary, I was hearing voices, whispers.
Were they calling me? I wasn't sure. Before I could reach out to them, I woke up.
"What was that?" Selene said, speaking to herself.
Looking out the window where the moonlight streaked in, she sighed, "What a wierd dream," and went back to sleep.
Dawn was a fragile thing, stretching pale fingers across the forest, and yet it did little to soothe the chaos Selene felt within. The rogues had fled, leaving scorched earth and splintered trees in their wake, but the victory was hollow. The scent of burnt foliage and blood lingered in the air, mixing with the tang of her own sweat and the hum of her still-awake wolf.Selene sank to the ground, knees digging into the soft soil, her hands still glowing faintly from the silver energy she had unleashed. Her chest rose and fell, lungs burning, heart hammering not from fear, but from the surge of power coursing through her veins.We did it, her wolf murmured. But it was only a beginning.Damien crouched beside her, eyes scanning the perimeter. His presence was a tether, grounding her when the world felt like it might tip again. “Are you hurt?” he asked, voice low but tense. His fingers brushed against her arm, careful, protective.&l
The forest trembled with motion. Shadows twisted and surged, dozens of rogue figures moving in silent, lethal waves. Their eyes gleamed like fractured gold under the moonlight, their claws catching the silver glow, sharp as razors. Selene’s pulse thundered in her ears, echoing the rhythm of her wolf inside her, which pressed urgently against her ribs, demanding release.Damien’s voice cut through the night, sharp and commanding. “Selene! Focus!”She turned toward him, heart in her throat. He was crouched near the window, tense and ready, muscles coiled like springs. His eyes swept over the approaching rogues, calculating, unyielding. “They’re testing us,” he said. “Waiting for you to hesitate.”Selene closed her eyes, letting the Moon’s pull wash over her. The hum in her blood surged, a living, breathing force that entwined with her wolf. Every nerve ending, every fiber of her being vibrated with raw energy. She could feel the forest, the soil beneath the house, the wind stirring thro
The night didn’t end.Selene sat awake long after the candles had burned to stubs, their melted wax pooling like frozen tears across the sills. Shadows stretched across the room, long and curling, flickering as if the air itself was breathing with a secret life. Sleep hovered just beyond reach, elusive and teasing, like a ghost she could feel brushing against her skin but never touch. Every time her lids grew heavy, she felt it the pulse. Slow, steady, ancient. Not her heartbeat, but something older, buried deeper than muscle or bone.Her wolf stirred within her, restless, uneasy. Its presence was no longer a whisper but a tremor in her chest, a low hum that resonated in her bones. It’s moving again, it murm
The place smelled of rain and blood.Selene’s heartbeat echoed in her ears as she knelt beside the injured scout. His skin was pale, his breathing ragged. The attack had been fast, brutal rogues again, but something about it felt wrong. Too organized. Too focused.“They didn’t come to kill,” Myra muttered, pressing cloth against the scout’s wound. “They came to send a message.”Selene’s hands trembled as she held the man still. “What kind of message?”But before Myra could answer, the wind shifted. A strange scent cut through the air ,ash, metal, and something… older. Her wolf surged to the surface instantly, a sharp growl echoing inside her chest. Danger. Wrong. Too close.Selene’s gaze darted to the treeline just beyond the courtyard. Nothing moved, yet her instincts screamed. Every nerve in her body buzzed like the air before lightning strikes.Then Damien’s presence. His aura rolled across the fi
The first sign was silence.Not the peaceful kind that came after work, when the packhouse finally quieted and everyone settled down but a heavy, humming stillness that didn’t belong.Selene stood by the kitchen window, drying her hands. Outside, twilight clung to the trees, the horizon painted in the pale blue of oncoming night. The children had gone to bed early. Patrols were still out. Everything looked… normal.But her wolf stirred uneasily beneath her skin.She froze, dish towel forgotten. The air smelled wrong faintly burnt, like smoke carried from a distance. She tried to shake it off, but her pulse wouldn’t slow.Then it hit her.A sharp, searing pulse through the bond. Pain that wasn’t hers.Damien.The connection flared so suddenly she almost doubled over. For a second, she saw flashes fire, runes, blood, eyes like white fire. Then nothing. Just his heartbeat echoing weakly t
The northern border was too still.Not just silence but stillness.Silence meant peace. Stillness meant something was waiting.Damien could feel it crawling beneath his skin as his patrol advanced through the frost-thick undergrowth. The air was damp with the scent of iron and pine sap, the kind of cold that bit deep into fur and bone.Six wolves moved in formation behind him, their boots sinking into the half-frozen ground. They didn’t speak. They didn’t need to. Their alpha’s tension was enough to tell them this was no ordinary sweep.“Movement?” he asked, voice low.Kade, his beta, crouched and pressed a palm to the dirt. “Nothing yet. But the air’s wrong. Smells like burnt stone.”Damien’s jaw tensed. He stepped past him, crouched, and brushed the soil with his fingers. The ash smeared cold against his skin, and beneath it, carved into the earth, was a fain







