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Chapter 2: Silver chains and silent screams
Terakhir Diperbarui:
2025-12-21 03:00:45They didn’t come for him at night.
They came at dawn—when wolves were weakest, when vampires were half-starved, when the world itself hovered between shadows and light. The execution circle was carved into ancient stone, soaked so deeply with old blood it never fully dried. Alpha stood at its center. Silver chains wrapped around his wrists, his throat, his spine—etched with runes older than packs and covens alike. Each symbol bit into his skin, burning away strength, silencing his wolf, choking the vampire hunger until his vision blurred. He did not kneel. They forced him. The first betrayal stepped forward. The Pack Elder. The man who had held Alpha as a child. Who had sworn loyalty under the same moon that now watched in silence. His voice shook—not with guilt, but fear. “You were born wrong,” the elder said. “A True Alpha should not exist. You bend wolves without consent. You threaten the balance.” Alpha lifted his head slowly, blood running from the corner of his mouth. “I never forced obedience,” he said calmly. “You chose to kneel.” The elder looked away. The second betrayal followed. The Acting Alpha of Blackfang. A man Alpha had spared in combat. A man whose life he had saved during a border war. His claws were tipped with silver now, his eyes hard with jealousy. “You were never meant to lead us,” the Acting Alpha snarled. “You make real Alphas obsolete.” So that was it. Not justice. Insecurity. Then the third betrayal stepped from the shadows. The Vampire Regent. Draped in black and crimson, his presence reeked of ancient blood. He smiled as he approached, teeth gleaming. “You carry royal blood,” the regent said softly. “And that makes you a liability. The First Court does not share power.” Alpha laughed—low and broken. “You fear a crown you can’t steal.” The regent’s smile vanished. The chains tightened. That was when she appeared. Not among the elders. Not among the executioners. She stood at the very edge of the circle, cloaked in dark fabric, hood drawn low. Her face remained hidden, but Alpha felt her before he saw her—like gravity shifting, like a missing piece clicking into place. His wolf howled. His vampire blood surged. Every seal in his body screamed in protest. She hadn’t come to watch. She had come because something older than fate had pulled her there. For a moment, the world slowed. Her gaze met his—he couldn’t see her eyes, but he felt them. Pain. Fury. Recognition. She took one step forward. The ground trembled. “Do not interfere,” the Regent warned sharply. “This does not concern you.” Her hands clenched. Alpha felt it then—a thread, thin but unbreakable, wrapping around his soul and hers. A bond forming in the worst possible moment. Not chosen. Not completed. Interrupted. His executioner raised the blade—silver, blessed, carved to kill gods. Alpha met her unseen gaze. Run. The blade fell. Pain exploded through his chest as the world shattered into red and black. His wolf screamed. His vampire blood boiled. The chains drank deep as his heart stuttered— —and stopped. The moon went dark. Somewhere beyond the execution circle, she screamed. Not with her voice. With her soul. And as Alpha’s blood soaked into the stone, something ancient awakened—furious, patient, and very much alive. Because they had killed a king. And kings do not die quietly.
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