Chapter 2

XANDER

“Fuck.”

I cursed under my breath as I tore through the heart of Mystic Forest in my wolf form, paws thudding against damp earth.

Full moon nights.

They’d always been the bane of my existence.

Nothing good ever came from them as long as I was concerned. Never had, never would.

Somehow, every damn time, they found a way to drag me into the messiest situations imaginable.

And tonight was no exception.

I, the Alpha of Crescent Ridge, was being forced to flee my own pack’s territory—midway through a moon run, no less.

Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

But to understand how I ended up here, we’d have to go back a few minutes earlier.

—

Tonight, as usual, I’d been leading the newly wolfed-out pups on their first run under the full moon, in the western fringes of Mystic Forest.

Everything had been going smoothly until word reached me—through the mind link—that a pup from the neighboring pack had strayed into our land.

It wasn’t unheard of.

Young, newly shifted wolves were curious, reckless little things. They were drawn to anything that moved, glowed, or smelled unfamiliar.

They chased scents and shadows through the forest without a shred of thought for borders or consequences.

And every now and then, those reckless little paws would find cracks and forgotten trails, slipping unnoticed into another territory through hidden paths.

The Mystic Forest stretched vast and deep, but it was clearly divided between two packs: Crescent Ridge—mine—ruled the western half, and the Night Howlers controlled the east.

Only the forest’s heart—a dense, perilous expanse of fog and poisonous miasma—remained a neutral zone, serving as the natural boundary between us.

For generations, both packs had respected that invisible line. Crossing it without permission meant one thing: provocation.

And provocation demanded blood.

However, there was always an exception to every law.

That held true in this case as well when mercy would be granted if the trespasser was a pup.

Even then, a steep compensation followed, meant to remind and deter everyone that accidents, no matter how harmless, carried a cost.

So when the border guards reported the stray, I handed the young wolves over to my Beta, Jaxon Thorne, and went to handle the matter myself.

“Let me take care of it,” Jaxon had said, his voice tight with concern.

He was one of the few who knew about my condition—how, unlike other werewolves, full moons didn’t empower me. They weakened me instead.

And worse, they stirred the curse in my blood.

But I’d brushed him off. “I’m the Alpha. Unless I’m dead or tied up with other matters, dealing with intruders is my responsibility.”

I’d sounded confident. Too confident.

And for a good reason.

The curse had specific conditions for awakening, and that was if I bled beneath the full moon, and I was sure I wouldn’t.

It should’ve been a routine matter.

Simple. Effortless.

Except it wasn’t.

The so-called ‘pup’ turned out to be a fully grown wolf—stunted in size, but deadly fast—lying in wait.

Because the full moon has dulled my instincts—and I also hadn’t bothered to guard against it—I didn’t sense the ambush until its claws, coated with wolfsbane, tore into my left arm.

The poison from the wolfsbane was no problem because my blood was immune to it, perhaps because of the darker magic already running within me.

But that didn’t matter.

Because I was bleeding.

The cold realization sliced through me as I jerked my gaze toward the silver disk above.

The curse was awakening.

Within half an hour—maybe less—I’d shrink into a helpless pup-sized form, stripped of all strength and power.

Reduced to prey.

—

No. I couldn’t let that happen.

Not under the watch of my pack members—and especially not in the presence of an enemy.

I could already imagine the chaos that would follow if anyone saw such a bizarre thing happen.

The fallout. The questions.

It would be chaos all over, both internally and externally.

And worse, I still didn’t know who had sent that assassin wolf—or what their motive was.

Had this ambush been deliberate? Has they learnt of my curse?

Was the assassination a test? To confirm their suspicions?

A thousand questions flashed through my mind in the span of a minute.

But all of them boiled down to one conclusion—I couldn't stay here any longer.

With time running out, I lunged at the assassin wolf in one swift move, knocked it unconscious and then sent a mind link to Jaxon.

‘The curse struck. The stray was a trap. I’ve disabled the attacker. Put him in a cell and watch him until I return. I’ll be back by dawn.’

I cut the connection before he could respond.

Then I sent another message, calm and authoritative, to the guards.

‘I have urgent business to attend to. Beta Jaxon will arrive shortly to take the intruder. Hand him over when he comes.’

“Understood, Alpha,” came their solemn reply.

After making these arrangements, I allowed myself a breath of relief.

Then, without another word, I turned and slipped deeper into the forest—urgency burning in my veins.

Along the fringes of the heart of the forest, I had a cabin—a hidden refuge for nights like this.

But I never made it that far.

The first wave of pain hit first—a deep, bone-twisting agony that dropped me to the ground.

A strangled sound tore from my throat as my body convulsed.

Then came the sharp crack of shifting bones, the sickening pop and grind of muscle and tendon rearranging.

Pain was an understatement, distortion a more apt description.

A grotesque reshaping.

My vision blurred, appearing white-hot, the forest spinning as I clenched my jaw shut, refusing to howl.

I couldn’t afford to be found.

I lost track of how long had passed.

Minutes? Hours?

I couldn't tell.

Then, slowly, the pain receded, leaving only the lasting agony of it humming in my bones.

My breath came shallow and uneven.

Sweat matted my fur.

I didn’t need to look to know what I’d become.

A glance downward confirmed it anyway.

Small, fur ruffled, paws too tiny to belong to an Alpha.

The curse had run its course.

My ears twitched suddenly.

Someone—or something—was coming.

I sniffed weakly, trying to catch a scent, but my senses yielded nothing beyond the smell of blood and earth.

Whether it was because the newcomer was still far away, or because my senses were dulled by the curse, I couldn’t tell.

But it didn’t matter who, or what it was.

Either way, I couldn’t be seen like this—not when my black fur and blue eyes were unique to my lineage.

Even if they didn’t recognize me immediately, doubt would take root. And doubt, once planted, had a way of growing wild.

My eyes hardened with resolve.

I had only one option left.

Taking a desperate gamble.

With what little strength I had left, I stood up and turned toward the ominous looking fog expanse.

Then without giving myself a chance to rethink, I bolted straight into the mist.

My life or death, I'll leave it up to the heavens to decide.