Mag-log inSebastian's POV
It's 5:30 in the morning, and I don't think I've ever been up this early before, let alone out and about. My dad and I are standing on either side of Uncle Lucas, observing an early morning training session from the cover of the trees. The Blood Moon pack's training grounds are impressive, even to someone who is used to the wealth and resources of our pack. We’ve been shown the facilities and taken through the training regimen.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” my father comments, eyes following the movements of the sparring wolves.
“Yeah,” I agree. My gaze flicks over to a tiny girl sparring with Gamma Austin. She’s quick and determined, but I don’t give her much thought beyond noting her size. I wonder if our wolves would cooperate with this; 5:30 is bloody early.
After watching for a few minutes, we make our way back to the pack house. After a bit more conversation with Uncle Lucas, Dad and I head back to the car and drive home.
********
Walking down the corridor with Max, Noah, and Ralph, I can’t help but feel a surge of excitement. I was blown away this morning and can’t wait to start making some changes. Even Dad has agreed we can do more. He’s not yet sold on going as far as Blood Moon, their training is pretty relentless, but we’re only as strong as our weakest link, and right now we have some very weak links. But this is going to take commitment; I’ll have to take baby steps, and keep working on him with Uncle Lucas.
The banter with the boys is the usual; weekend parties, girls, and general teenage bravado.
“Did you see Hannah last night?” Max grins, nudging me. “Man, she couldn’t stop eye fucking you.”
I shrug, smirking. “I wouldn’t tap that again; she was a bad lay.”
Ralph snorts. “She’s terrible at giving head too.”
We all laugh, turning the corner to our math class. I’m only half paying attention, still thinking about implementing my training changes.
I’m still lost in my thoughts when Math starts, Mr Varner droning on as usual from the front of the room. I zone him out and keep planning. That is, until I hear a voice that cuts through the usual monotony of Mr. Varner’s class. It’s clear and confident, asking a question that clearly sails over everyone else’s heads.
I glance over and see her. Tiny, with long blonde hair, sapphire blue eyes, and a face that could’ve been carved by the Goddess herself. She has high cheekbones and a nose that adds to her delicate beauty. How had I not noticed her before?
“Who’s that?” I whisper to Max.
He looks over and raises an eyebrow. “Zahra Larkin. Beta’s Larkin’s daughter from Blood Moon. She’s a Freshman I think.”
Almost everyone is small compared to me, but she is tiny. “She’s tiny.”
“I know, apparently she’s like 15 or something.” Max shrugs.
“What? What’s she doing in high school already?” He shrugs again, peering over at her as well.
I watch her, captivated. She isn’t just beautiful; she’s smart, too. Really smart. The kind of smart that makes Mr. Varner actually stop and think. That must be why she’s in high school already then. I can’t get her out of my head.
Max's POVThe next morning, after another sleepless night, I follow my dad into the main meeting room. The air smells like coffee and grief. King James sits at the head of the table. Beta Nicholas to his right. Tobias and Aiden beside him. Lucas, Xander, and Zach opposite. A councilman I do not recognise flips through a leather folder. A house maid sets coffee pots and plates of biscuits in the centre and retreats from the room.everyone nods in acknowledgment of our arrival, but No one speaks. I pour myself a cup of coffee and settle into my chair to wait.Andrew arrives a few minutes later. He looks hollowed out. it's clear, he's not slept, over the last four days He looks like he's lost weight and He moves like his bones ache. I have heard the stories. When a wolf loses a mate, sometimes the wolf dies of grief. Sometimes the human goes with them. Sometimes what remains is a shell. It is too early to know which road Andrew is on, but dad said Aether is silent. If the silence holds fo
Max's POVTobias pats my shoulder. "Come on, man. Let’s head outside. The others will be here soon."I tip back the rest of the beer, feel it hit an empty stomach, and stand. In the bedroom I shrug into my suit jacket. It is tight across the chest but it holds. Tobias clocks it and smirks. I huff a laugh. First one in days. It feels strange in my throat.Outside, people stream from the packhouse to the woods along a lantern‑lit path. I keep my head down and my hands in my pockets. The clearing is already thick with smell of smoke from the last two days. Four pyres stand in the centre: Seb. Luna Anne. Zoe. Rebecca. The pack forms a ring at the edge of the trees, lining up back into the cover of the trees as the numbers swell, bodies pressed close.Tobias and I move to the front where a small platform has been raised. Andrew is there. Dad has an arm around his back, holding him upright. Lucas takes the other side as we reach them. I tense when I see Lucas because I know who will be right
Max's POVThe packhouse feels hollow. Black ribbons hang from banisters. Voices stay low, as if volume might break something that is already cracked. We lost nearly two hundred. Everyone here can name at least one of them.I take a coffee and a muffin from the dining hall because that is what a functioning person does. The coffee tastes burnt. The muffin turns to paste after two bites. I toss the rest and climb to my father’s old office. It is mine now, apparently. The title sits in the room like an unwelcome guest.I work because work is something I can control. Eli’s rotation notes. Ralph’s border reports. I sign where I have to and flag what I cannot decide yet. My phone buzzes beside my elbow.Tobias: I will not ask how you are. I am sure the answer is o
Max's POVI stare at the ceiling while daylight crawls across it, thin and grey. Another night with no sleep. My head is a hive and I am the only thing it stings.I have not slept since my best friend was murdered in front of me. Since I was not where I should have been. My Alpha. I let him down. I was busy watching Xander's back, worrying about his cousin, instead of standing where Sebastian needed me. Now our pack has no future, and that sits in my chest like broken glass.My stomach rolls again. I swallow against bile and breathe through it until the nausea backs off. The last three days I have thrown up more than I have in ten years. Every time I replay the fight, or my thoughts drift to Xander, every time I reach the same point where I chose the wrong alpha to flank, my gut empties. Coward’s body. I grit my teeth until my jaw aches.Yesterday’s meeting will not stop playing in my mind. Alpha Lucas at the head of the table, face drawn, voice steady like a blade laid flat.“Max. Hu
Xander's POVMy vision blurs. The air splits with two howls, a long, broken, mournful note. One after the other, blending together, a harmony of misery.Seb, and Uncle Drew.The sound chills me to the marrow. Its the kind of agony that isn’t just heard, it’s felt. Every wolf freezes for half a heartbeat. Max staggers beside me as the bond to his Luna snaps. Around us, every Silver Dawn warrior falters, some nearly dropping where they stand. The heart of their pack has just been snuffed out.I scan the battlefield, frantic. Then I see him. Sphinx!He stumbles upright, then launches forward. He’s not fighting anymore. He’s destroying. A whirlwind of teeth and fury, blood caking his muzzle, eyes blazing feral. He’s gone berserk, tearing through rogues with a savagery I’ve never seen from him before. His unit try to cover him, but he breaks through their line, chasing the rogues too far, too fast.Medus surges away from me, toward his Alpha, desperate to protect him. To be beside him in h
Xander's POVZach’s voice is tight, even through the link.‘I’m on my way, I’m in the pack house!’ I yell back through the link.Max and I barely make it through the back doors before we shift, Medus and Atlas hitting the ground in sync. The scene before us makes my blood run cold.Carnage. Pure fucking carnage.Wolves are everywhere. Rogues flood the garden, tearing through decorations and tables as if they were nothing. They’re not the ragged, half-starved rogues I’ve seen before. They’re lean, powerful, and moving like a trained unit. The stench gives them away — foul, rotting, wrong.Medus and Atlas surge forward side by side, our training taking over. The garden is a ruin, blood splattered across the grass, screams mixing with snarls and the sickening sound of flesh tearing. Wolves crash into each other in a blur of fur and teeth.Silver Dawn’s warriors are arriving now, charging straight into the fray, but the rogues keep pouring from the treeline like a tide of shadows.The sme







