Chapter Three

​📜 Chapter Three: The Hidden Journal and the Silver Wolf Ritual

​　My mother. The thought hit me like a physical blow, scattering the already fragile pieces of my composure. My mother, Lyra Thorne, the former Beta female, had abandoned me emotionally the moment I failed to shift. She was currently on a mandatory ‘diplomatic’ visit to a nearby pack—a move Gareth had arranged to distance himself from my failure.

​　Alpha Gareth is not the one holding the item I seek. Your mother is.

​　I stumbled out of Kael’s suite, the silver locket and the cryptic leather-bound journal feeling impossibly heavy. I hid the journal in the one place I knew no one would ever look: beneath the warped floorboard in my laundry room 'bedroom.'

​　Later that evening, while the pack was distracted by the official welcoming feast—an affair I was barred from attending—Elias came to the laundry room, his expression etched with a deadly calm.

​　"Kael is a sociopath," Elias hissed, checking the windows. "He broke Ronan's ribs in front of his own Alpha and then declared you his personal servant. He's sending a message: touch the Omega, face the Silver Moon."

​　"He told me that I am part of a debt repayment," I whispered, holding up the mysterious journal. "And he said Mother is holding the item he really wants."

​　Elias took the journal, flipping through the strange, blank pages until he reached the cryptic inscription. He frowned, recognizing the script.

​　"This is Mother's handwriting," he confirmed, his voice barely audible. "She had a whole library of these old, leather-bound books. She used to call them her 'research logs.' She wouldn't let anyone touch them."

​　"Kael told me to look up the First Alpha’s Silver Wolf Prophecy and the unblooded female."

​　"That's a Silver Moon myth, Ember. It's supposed to be allegory, not history. It talks about the founding Alpha's mate—a rare, non-shifting silver-coated wolf—who sacrificed her bloodline to prevent a magical catastrophe. It's nonsense."

​　"Or it's not," I insisted, a strange, cold conviction settling in my gut. "Why would he, a man who despises inefficiency, be quoting fairy tales at his human mate?"

​　We spent the next few hours in the dark, pouring over a few smuggled history texts Elias had access to. We found fragments of the prophecy.

​　...When the moon bleeds silver, and the pack faces its true darkness, the blood of the First Alpha, diluted and unformed, shall rise. The unblooded female, carrying the hidden silver shard, will be drawn to the true Alpha's mark. Only through the ancient ritual of the Claiming, where the mark is rendered in pure, cold light, can the shard be protected from the encroaching shadows...

​　"Unformed blood... that's you, Em," Elias said, his voice husky. "Unshifted. Diluted bloodline. But what is the 'hidden silver shard'?"

​　I shook my head, my mind racing. "And why 'unblooded'? I haven't been Claimed by any Alpha."

​　"Or, maybe it doesn't mean Claimed by a mate. Maybe it means... uninjured? Unmarred? No, that's stupid. You're covered in scars."

​　"No, not my scars," I corrected, a sudden thought sparking. "The mark that is 'rendered in pure, cold light'..." I ran to the shelf and grabbed a mirror. "Hold this still."

​　I stripped off my shirt, exposing my back—a roadmap of dark purple and yellow bruises from Gareth’s beatings. Elias winced, but held the mirror steady.

​　"Look closely at the center of my back, right between the shoulder blades. Tell me if you see anything weird."

​　Elias stared, his brow furrowed. "Just scars, Em. Ronan’s burn mark is almost healed."

​　"No. The very center. A birthmark? A mole?"

​　He leaned in. "Wait. There is something. It's tiny, like a faded white scar, about the size of a dime. It's not a wound, Em. It looks… circular. Like a healed puncture wound, but not one Gareth would make."

​　It was then I felt it. The locket around my neck, which had been cold, suddenly felt icy. My skin, right above that spot between my shoulder blades, began to tingle, then burn with a deep, internal heat.

​　"Elias, look! The silver thing!"

​　I couldn't see it directly, but Elias gasped. "It’s glowing, Ember! That mark—it’s not a scar, it’s a tiny, complex symbol! It’s like a cluster of ice, and it’s shining with the same light as Kael Blackwood's eyes!"

​　The burning sensation intensified, radiating outwards from the glowing circle. I cried out, grabbing the locket.

​　"The journal! Get the journal!"

​　Elias shoved the book into my hands. As my fingers touched the leather, the glow on my back vanished. The burning stopped. The air stabilized.

​　"What the hell was that?" Elias breathed, his voice ragged.

​　I clutched the journal, shivering. "I think that book is a piece of my mother's 'research,' and whatever Kael wants, it’s connected to that mark on my back."

​　I flipped through the journal again, this time realizing the pages weren't blank, but written in a specialized ink that reacted to light and pressure. I found a section marked, cryptically: The Ritual and the Blood-Bond.

​　The old ways dictate that the Silver Shard, the ultimate protection, must be housed in the unblooded vessel. To transfer the Shard, the First Alpha’s mate used the Claiming Bite, not for mating, but for transfer.

​　"Elias," I whispered, the words freezing in my throat. "Kael didn't reject me. He didn't claim me yet. He said he would claim me with a lie. I don't think he’s my mate. I think he’s here to perform a ritual, and I am the target."

​　The door to the laundry room slammed open, making us both jump. Standing there, silhouetted against the dim hallway light, was a Shadow Creek Warrior. It wasn't Ronan, but one of Gareth’s trusted enforcers, his face set in a hard, predatory smirk.

​　"Alpha Gareth requires the Omega's presence in his private study," the Warrior announced. "Now. He says Alpha Blackwood asked him to 'reassure' his future mate before the rest of the visit."

​　I knew what that meant. Gareth had waited until Kael was resting to deliver a final, vicious beating to remind me of my place.

​　"No," Elias stepped forward, his fists clenching. "She's exhausted. I'll take her shift."

​　The Warrior laughed—a harsh, barking sound. "Alpha Blackwood specifically requested the Omega. Move aside, Beta. Or should I inform the Silver Moon Alpha that you were the one defying orders?"

​　My heart pounded. Elias was one of the few good things left in my life. I couldn't let him sacrifice himself for me.

​　"It's alright, Elias," I said, putting the journal securely in my skirt pocket. "I'll go."

​　As I followed the Warrior out, I felt Elias’s anguished stare burning into my back. I focused on the cold weight of the locket and the hard edge of the journal—my only weapons against the inevitable pain.

​　The Alpha’s study was warm and smelled of old paper and stale liquor. Gareth was waiting, a heavy leather belt draped casually over his shoulder.

​　"There you are, trash," he said, a satisfied glint in his eyes. "Since you're going to be mated to that monster, I need to ensure you understand obedience, Omega. Silver Moon Alpha's don't tolerate failure."

​　He raised the belt. I closed my eyes, waiting for the first lash.

​　The sound of the belt whistling through the air never connected.

​　Instead, the study door flew open with such force it slammed against the wall, ripping itself from its hinges. The noise was deafening.

​　Standing in the doorway, framed by two massive Silver Moon guards, was Kael Blackwood. He was no longer relaxed; he was coiled, lethal, and radiating a killing rage that eclipsed even Gareth's shock.

​　"Alpha Gareth," Kael’s voice was utterly flat, but the temperature in the room plummeted. "You seem to have misunderstood my instructions."