Draven BloodFall

“Until I can change his shallow mind, I’ll play the role they want…” A slow, bitter smirk tugged at her lips, “…but only on the surface.”

She walked back to the door and knocked sharply twice. The guard quickly answered from the other side.

“My Lady?”

“Bring back my meal,” she said, her voice calm—too calm.

“Yes, my Lady.”

Philipa returned to the couch, smoothing her gown as if nothing had happened. She sat straight, composed, almost graceful. The perfect obedient daughter her father wanted to see…

----

BloodFall Pack…

Alpha Draven BloodFall sat on his throne like a carved statue of an Alpha god—silent, regal, and dangerous. His right fingers drummed absently on the armrest, while his left elbow rested against the throne’s edge, supporting his chin as though he were merely bored of the world he ruled.

Around the large map-table, four men stood silently, each waiting for their Alpha to speak first. No one dared break the stillness.

A sudden knock pulled Draven’s eyes open, though only slightly.

“Enter,” he said, voice low and cold.

Saxon hurried inside, immediately dropping to one knee with his left hand on his chest—the BloodFall sign of respect. His breathing was uneven, as if he had run all the way to the study.

“My Alpha,” Saxon began, head bowed, “I completed the investigation you ordered. These are the reports.”

Draven didn’t move, but the dangerous curl of his lips told Saxon to continue.

“There is rising unrest in Crestmoon Pack, my Alpha. Rumors say Alpha Carlo of Silverfang intends to raid Crestmoon soon. Alpha Kadel… might be seeking your intervention sooner to keep his pack afloat.”

At that, a few sharp, amused smirks broke across the room.

Beta Devon, tall and broad-shouldered with large eyes that seems to be mocking you when you stare at it, tilted his head toward Draven. “What could Alpha Kadel possibly offer in return for your protection?” he scoffed.

Gamma Phil snorted. “Certainly not his son. Rumor says the boy is weaker than a day-old pup.” Laughter exploded around the table.

And then—Draven chuckled. Silence returns instantly.

Saxon swallowed and continued quickly. “There’s also the matter of Ashbourne Academy. They are… accepting more students than usual this year. Yet only forty students remain from last year. And those that were expelled are… nowhere to be found. Which i finds odd”

He hesitated. “When I managed to speak with one of the older students, he talked about somw kind of dark rituals that are being performed during full moons… using the blood of unshifted wolves. I didn’t believe it—I assumed someone would have uncovered such madness long ago if it were true.”

For the first time, Draven stopped drumming his fingers. He opened his eyes fully.

Leaned forward slowly, and smirked. “Interesting.” The room froze.

“So,” Draven murmured, staring at the map, “they attract students every year just to cover their dark secret?”

Devon shrugged. “It might be a rumor to scare off arrogant pups.”

Phil shook his head. “Remember they only accepts born Alphas? And the academy is close to BloodFall’s boundary. If something is happening there… we need more than rumors.”

One of the officers shifted his feets. “Perhaps another investigation—”

“No,” the other interrupted. “We should infiltrate the academy. Someone capable of not being expelled quickly… before the next full moon.”

Draven’s gaze slid toward Devon. “When is the next full moon?”

“The day after Christmas, Alpha,” Devon replied. A slow, wicked grin stretched along Draven’s mouth.

Everyone stiffened. That grin only appeared when Draven BloodFall was about to turn the world upside down.

“Prepare my application to the academy, Noone knows who i am,” he said, standing. “It seems Ashbourne has gained a new student.” The room erupted.

Devon was first to speak up. “My Alpha, absolutely not! It’s too risky—for you and for the entire pack. I’ll go in your place.”

Phil immediately snapped, “You are the Beta. You can’t leave the pack. I’ll go.” He shot Devon a smug look.

"And what is a pack without the Gamma?" The officers chimed in, each declaring themselves the better candidate.

And then Draven simply stood fully, the sunlight catching his sharp features and casting an otherworldly glow over his crimson eyes. The room went silent.

He turned to Saxon. “You will not speak a word of this to anyone. Not even in your sleep.” His voice dipped into something colder than steel.

Saxon bowed so low his forehead nearly hit the floor. “Y—yes, my Alpha.”

“Leave.”

Once the door shut, Draven turned his attention to the map, tracing a finger over the southern region.

“Alpha Carlo…” he chuckled darkly. “You’re overstepping again. And walking right into my trap.”

He had always planned to conquer Silverfang Pack, but he needed a clean excuse. A perfect justification. Something no council or alliances could challenge.

And now Carlo was gifting him that excuse on a silver platter.

“Devon,” Draven said without looking up, “if Alpha Kadel sends a request for aid, accept it. Negotiate a… generous price for my services.”

Devon bowed. “Yes, Alpha.”

“Phil,” Draven continued, “I want every report, every movement, every whisper concerning BloodFall sent to me while I’m… studying.” Phil nodded sharply.

Draven’s tone darkened. “If anything goes wrong in my absence... If a single soul learns where I’ve gone... I will not spare any of you.”

They all swallowed hard, fear tightening their throats. Draven BloodFall’s temper was legendary… and fatal.

“Prepare my admission,” Draven ordered, stepping back toward his throne.

"At once, Alpha..." Devon bow, and walked out, along with the others 

He sat down, returned to his earlier posture of chin resting on one hand, fingers drumming with thoughtful amusement.

And he began to grin again.... A grin that promised chaos.... A grin that promised war.

A grin that promised that Ashbourne Academy had no idea the demon they were about to invite inside their walls....