Marco has lost every strength he had. Half of his men have already turned against him. The remaining ones are weakened, their breathing ragged, faces covered in dirt and blood. His head pounds. His heart feels heavier than ever. He snaps the neck of the rogue who lunges at him — the crack echoes in his ears — but his body gives out, and he falls to his knees.His chest heaves. The chaos around him blurs. The once-loyal pack warriors are either captured or already switching sides."You're really tough, brother."A voice. Calm. Confident. Familiar.Marco lifts his head slowly. His vision clears just enough for him to see the impossible.Lowell.Standing tall. A well-tailored dark suit clings to his form, the jacket buttoned neatly, untouched by the filth and blood surrounding him. His golden eyes glint with a cold amusement that sends a chill down Marco’s spine.In this madness, he looks like a man stepping out of a grand hall — not the battleground they stand on. His posture is firm. H
Inside the chaos, Nana and Felicia move with quiet desperation, their breaths shallow, their steps hurried. The battle outside shakes the walls around them. The weak body, the unbroken will, but every cry of pain, every howl of a dying wolf still sends a shiver down Nana’s spine and she pushes forward.She takes Felicia’s wrist and leads the way. “Stay close,” she whispers. She’s weak, strain in her voice, but she won’t give up.Falling guards; many barely breathing, others long dead litter the path to the outer gates. Nana and Felicia were easier to slip past because the war had taken their focus. And every step is harder, every shadow feels as though it is a danger.A low growl freezes them as they near the exit.Marco.His form is lit by the burning torches, and he stands there. His face is grim, and his dark eyes blaze fury, his lips curled in a snarl. His armor is stained with blood, his own, and that of the warriors he had cut down with no mercy. The battle had taken him to the
The far cry of the battle outside, howls and growls, the sound of clashing metals and the cry of fallen warriors fills the air. The scent of blood envelopes the atmosphere, even Marco and his Beta Stephen know time is running out, it’s an unusual fight. Felicia sneaks through the hallway, her movements quick and quiet, she tries not to breathe too much, as if even a little sniffle can be heard in the chaos outside. The guards were fewer now, drawn outside to the war. This was the moment she realized it might just be her only chance. She reaches Nana’s cell, pressing her ear against the door. “Nana,” she whispers urgently. Inside, Nana is sitting calmly even in the chaos, her body weak, yet her mind is sharper than ever. Upon hearing Felicia’s voice, her heart leaps. “Felicia?” Felicia working on the lock, her fingers trembling just a little. “It’s me, child. We must move quickly before more guards return.”The door creaks open, revealing Nana’s frail form in the darkness. She push
Far beyond the walls, outside, a battle rages on; the sounds of steel clashing and the shrieks of warriors fighting seem to drift into her ears, her prison walls trembling against the distance of the dark world. Nana's heart screams against her ribs. This is the moment she has been waiting for. Outside of her prison, the guards were shifting uneasily. Nana could hear them murmur in hushed tones, their patience wearing thin with every passing moment. There was almost a temptation to go out and join the battle. Some of them had already deserted their stations, lured by the call to war, leaving but a handful behind. Nana remains unmoving in the corner of the room. Her wrists throb from the rough ropes that had bound her earlier. Her eyes trace the flickering light of the candle on the stone walls while she bites hard on the torn hem of her dress. Tension hangs thick in the air, but Nana is wise enough to restrain herself. Outside rages on, and a voice suddenly cuts across all that noi
The NorthHill Pack is uneasy. Warriors whisper in the shadows, questioning their Alpha’s rule. Some believe he has angered the Moon Goddess by keeping Nana imprisoned after his father brutally murdered the previous Lycan Alpha, and kept his young son caged for year, now Marco is following his father’s cruel ways and the pack is gravely paying for it, while others see his desperation to secure power as a weakness.Doubt lingers in the air, thick and suffocating. The once loyal warriors exchange cautious glances during patrols, their movements tense, their conversations hushed. The pack’s foundation, once built on unwavering loyalty, now shows cracks—small, but growing.Even trust no longer exists as it seems the invaders are still unrecognized, they seem to have insiders, even Stephen the smartest almost knowledgeable beta of NorthHill Pack is as confused as the people.“This is fucking crazy,we’re losing men every day and night,” One of the warriors groans in anger and frustration, hi
For months, she had tried to escape, pushing her body beyond its limits, clinging to the desperate hope that she could flee before Marco carried out his plans. But every attempt ended the same way.The first time, she had tried to sneak out when the guards changed their shifts, waiting until the guards grew too comfortable under the assumption that her swollen belly made her weak and she couldn’t run. She attacked, clawing through flesh, feeling the surge of power from the unborn child inside her. The strength was intoxicating, giving her an edge she never had before. She had ripped through three guards before her body betrayed her. The power vanished in an instant, leaving her limbs heavy, her breath shallow. She collapsed right outside the gate, and before she could drag herself any farther, Marco’s men seized her, dragging her back inside like a wounded animal.After that, security doubled. The guards became ruthless, watching her with cold, unreadable eyes. Still, she tried again.
The room is dimly lit and Nana sits her back pressed against the cold wall. Her arms are wrapped around herself, hugging herself for poor comfort. But there is no comfort. Only the crushing weight of despair.The only sound in her world is the crack swearing of the lantern in the corner. There’s no movement, and air is heavy with the smell of rotting wood and stale air. She’s spent so many nights like this, desperate to wake, to open her eyes, but where is she?But tonight, something is different.A flicker.She doesn’t hear it, she doesn’t see it. But she feels it, a whisper, too close to the edge of her mind, and too close to dying. A strange warmth washes over her, faint but undeniable and her breath hitches as it happens.Her heart pounds.It is impossible.It cannot be real.She thought that it was lost… severed and too far gone… yet the bond riles within her, weaker but there.Lowell.She closes her eyes, continuing to squeeze and willing the sensation to stay, to get bigger, to
The smell of herbs in the air reminds Felicia of the warm bowl of soup she is supposed to serve Nana as she moves down the narrow hallway. She’s been thinking so much, she makes her way to Nana’s room, the guards by the door no longer even bother to look at her, they’ve seen her so often that they do not even look at her anymore.Nana sits by the window and looks up to the night sky, inside. The exhaustion is written on her forehead, her face pale. She doesn’t turn when Felicia enters, she doesn’t feel the need. Not caring whoever it is that enters.Felicia sets the tray down on the table. “You need to eat.”Nana remains silent.Felicia sighs and walks closer, lowering her voice. “This is the third meal you’ve ignored today. You’re getting weaker.”“I don’t care,” Nana murmurs.Felicia stiffens. “You should care. You’re not just fighting for yourself anymore.”Nana’s fingers tighten around the fabric of her dress. “I can’t do this, Felicia. I can’t stay here and let them use my child.
Marco tightens security around Nana, ensuring she cannot escape. This time, there are no weak points—she must give birth under his watch, whether she wants to or not.She is trapped. Even the thoughts of escape have become impossible.The walls of her confinement feel smaller every day, suffocating her with their cold silence. The packhouse hums with life outside her room, warriors moving through the halls, maids whispering in the corners, but none of it reaches her. She is not part of them. She never was. Now, more than ever, she is an outsider, a breeder for the Alpha's heir, her child's sole purpose for being born is for the heir.The thought of it kills her everyday, she prays every time for the moon goddess to send Lowell to her alive.Guards stand at every exit, their presence a constant reminder that she is nothing more than a prisoner. She recognizes some of them—warriors who once fought beside Lowell. But their loyalty has shifted. Now, they answer only to Marco. Their faces