My Father's Last Words

The letter slipped from the leather pouch and landed on the marble floor with a soft, echoing sound.

No one moved. No one dared.

It looked ordinary—a single folded piece of parchment stained with soot and dried blood. Yet everyone in the Grand Hall knew it carried a truth powerful enough to shake every werewolf pack across the territories.

I stared down at the familiar handwriting penned across the front.

> To my daughter, if I die.

> 

My vision blurred instantly. "No..." The whisper escaped my lips before I could stop it. "It can't be..."

Five years. For five agonizing years, I had lived with the agonizing belief that my parents had perished in the inferno without saying goodbye—that the last thing they knew was terror.

Now... a part of them had survived.

Marcus bent down, his armor clanking softly, and carefully picked up the letter. He held it with the same absolute reverence a warrior would show an ancient, sacred relic.

"This belonged to Alpha William Grant," Marcus said, his gravelly voice steady, though his silver eye glistened with uncharacteristic emotion. "He gave it to me with his final breath."

Across the hall, Damon took a slow, deliberate step forward. "Don't."

His voice was calm. Too calm.

"That letter is a pathetic fake."

Marcus let out a bitter, dark laugh. "Still lying, Damon?"

"You forged it."

"I watched your father write it with his own blood while the room burned around us."

"You expect anyone in this hall to believe that absurd story?"

Marcus slowly turned his gaze toward the assembled Alpha Council. "I don't expect belief, Alpha Grant. I expect justice."

The Council remained dead silent. Every single Alpha was watching Damon now.

Not me. Not Marcus.

Damon.

For the very first time in five years, the shadow of doubt had firmly entered their eyes.

Buck couldn't take his eyes off Athena.

She stood completely motionless, staring at the folded parchment as tears silently rolled down her bruised cheeks, washing tracks through the grime on her face.

She wasn't pretending. She wasn't acting. Her grief was far too raw, far too real to be anything other than the absolute truth.

Everything Damon had claimed about her—that she was a cold-blooded monster, a heartless killer—suddenly seemed hollow. Incomplete.

Buck leaned his head slightly toward Ravi. "What do you think?"

Ravi kept his hand resting on his sword hilt, his voice low. "I think we've been hearing only one side of a very carefully constructed story, Alpha."

Buck nodded, his jaw tightening as the bond throbbed in his chest. "So do I."

Nearby, Bobby Nash folded his broad arms over his chest, his eyes narrowed at Damon. "The Council will hear the truth today. No matter where it leads, and no matter who it destroys."

Damon suddenly threw his head back and laughed. The sound echoed unnaturally through the ruined, smoke-filled hall.

"You've all lost your minds," he said, shaking his head as he pointed a commanding finger at Marcus. "A disgraced, rogue captain appears out of nowhere with a burnt piece of paper... and suddenly everyone doubts their fellow Alpha?"

His sharp gaze swept aggressively across the Council members.

"Think very carefully about what you are doing," Damon warned, his Alpha aura flaring subtly. "If he succeeds today... If a traitor can accuse a ruling Alpha with a forged note... no Alpha's authority in this room will ever be respected again."

Several lower-ranking Alphas exchanged uncertain, nervous looks.

His words carried immense weight. Power. Influence. Political leverage. Damon had ruled Silver Moon with an iron fist for five years, and many of the delegates present had lucrative trade treaties with him.

Marcus slowly stepped forward, his sword held loosely at his side. "You still know how to manipulate a room of powerful men, Damon."

Damon smirked coldly. "It's called leadership, old man."

"No," Marcus's expression hardened into pure granite. "It's called fear."

A deep, commanding voice cut through their argument like a physical blade.

"Enough."

All eyes snapped toward Bobby Nash as the respected Elder slowly rose from his carved chair. His commanding presence alone silenced the ambient murmurs in the chamber.

"I have served the Alpha Council for over forty years," Bobby declared, stepping down from the dais. He looked directly into Damon's eyes. "I have judged traitors. I have judged murderers. And I have judged innocent wolves who were falsely accused by those with power."

He paused, letting the heavy weight of his words settle over the room.

"This Council will not condemn or protect anyone..." Bobby continued firmly, "...until every single piece of evidence has been thoroughly heard."

The other Elders seated at the high table nodded in silent agreement.

Bobby extended a hand toward Marcus. "Hand over the letter."

Marcus didn't move. "With all due respect, Alpha Nash... it wasn't written to the Council." He turned his head toward me. "It was written to Athena."

A heavy hush settled over the room.

Marcus slowly walked toward me, his heavy boots echoing across the cracked marble floor. When he stopped right in front of me, he dropped heavily onto one knee.

Not before an Alpha. Not before a Luna.

Before the broken little girl, he had once sworn to protect with his life.

"My princess..." he whispered.

My breath caught in my throat. No one had called me that since the night my parents died.

Marcus gently lifted the smoke-stained letter and placed it into my trembling hands. "It belongs to you. It always has."

My fingers shook so violently I could barely unfold the fragile parchment.

The edges were blackened by fire, and the paper was brittle. Some words had faded under heat and time, but others remained clear.

I recognized my father's bold, sweeping penmanship immediately. Strong. Confident. Unwavering.

The tears I had been desperately holding back finally spilled over my eyelashes.

I began to read aloud, my voice echoing through the quiet hall:

> "My dearest Athena,"

> 

A ragged sob escaped my lips, but I forced myself to keep reading. The hall remained completely still.

> "If these words have reached your hands, then I have failed in my ultimate duty to protect our family from the dark storm."

> 

The words hit me like lightning, causing my knees to buckle slightly.

Buck instinctively stepped forward to catch me, but forced himself to stop, his knuckles white at his sides.

I wiped my eyes with a bruised wrist and continued reading:

> "Never believe anyone who tells you that you caused this tragedy. You are innocent, my Little Star. You always will be."

> 

My heart pounded so hard against my ribs I thought it would break. Innocent. My father had declared me innocent.

> "There are wolves who desire our ancient bloodline because of a divine gift older than the Alpha Council itself. They will lie, betray, and murder to possess it."

> 

I paused, looking up at Marcus in utter confusion. Gift? Bloodline?

Marcus offered a small, solemn nod. "Keep reading, Athena."

I swallowed the dry lump in my throat and looked back at the parchment.

> "Trust Captain Marcus. He has sworn on his wolf to protect you with his life. Do not trust everyone who wears our name."

> 

My voice faltered on the last line.

Every single person in the room understood the terrifying implication behind those words.

My eyes slowly lifted from the paper, locking onto Damon.

He had gone completely still. His arrogant, confident smile had vanished entirely, replaced by a dark, pale mask of fury.

I lowered my gaze back to the blood-stained page and read the final lines:

> "The greatest enemy of our family is closer than you think. When the silver wolf awakens, seek the Guardian beneath the Blood Moon. Only they can reveal the complete truth."

> 

The letter ended abruptly. There was no signature—only a deep crimson thumbprint pressed firmly into the bottom corner of the page.

My father's blood.

The Grand Hall remained frozen in time. No one dared to speak.

Then...

Damon began to clap.

Slow. Deliberate. Mocking.

"Beautiful," Damon said, his voice dripping with venomous sarcasm as he stepped down from the dais. "A truly touching fairy tale."

He looked directly at me, his eyes hollow and devoid of any brotherly warmth. "Did you enjoy your little bedtime story, sister?"

My heart sank into my stomach. His eyes were cold, empty, and lethal. There wasn't a single trace of guilt or regret in them.

Damon suddenly raised his hand high. "Guards!"

Silver Moon warriors immediately lunged forward, surrounding Marcus with drawn blades. Then, another squad moved in, blocking me into a tight circle.

Buck's eyes narrowed dangerously, his hand dropping to his weapon. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Grant?"

Damon smiled, a terrifying expression. "I'm protecting my pack."

"From what?!"

"From treason," Damon barked, pointing directly at Marcus. "Arrest the disgraced captain!"

Then, his finger shifted across the room... until it pointed straight at my chest.

"And arrest Athena Grant... for conspiring with traitors against the Alpha of Silver Moon!"

The guards took a step closer, their steel swords glinting.

Buck took a dark, immediate step forward, his Alpha power flaring to life. Ravi instantly moved to his flank. Hen dropped her hand to her blade, and Chimney fearlessly stepped right between the armed warriors and my trembling frame.

The Grand Hall was violently split down the middle—those fiercely loyal to Damon's reign, and those stepping forward to protect me.

Bobby Nash's voice thundered across the room, shaking the remaining rafters: "The first wolf who draws blood inside this Council chamber will answer to the full wrath of the Elders!"

The surrounding warriors hesitated, their blades wavering.

Swish!

From the shadows near the ruined upper balcony, an unseen archer released a heavy silver hunting arrow.

It cut through the smoke-filled air with a sharp hiss—flying straight toward my heart.