11 Alpha Wayland Reyrem

Alpha Wayland Reyrem:

Power and influence.

Those were the first things drilled into my head from the moment I took my first breath. My late father made sure of it.

The second I left my mother’s womb, I was tested—my species confirmed. As expected, I was a born werewolf. No surprise there. For centuries, the blood of our family has never been diluted by anything human. Every male of our lineage is paired with a she-wolf of pure and ancient blood. It's a strict rule, one that leaves no room for mistakes. That’s why no human child has ever been born into the elite circles of werewolf society.

From the moment I was born, I never really had a childhood. I wasn’t treated like a kid—I was treated like the future Alpha of the pack.

I attended the pack’s private school, along with the children of our werewolf elite. Most of them were already aware of who they were—young wolves in training—and they were held to strict standards. The few human children among us were given more leniency, but even then, there was no conflict. Everyone understood their place. Everyone understood the rules.

As the Alpha’s son, the expectations placed on me were heavier than most. More training. More lessons. More tests. More discipline. While other kids played games and caused harmless mischief, I was bruising my fists and knees at the training grounds and memorizing strategy books late into the night.

When I turned eighteen, my wolf finally awakened. That very night, my father took me into the forest for my first hunt—the rite of passage. I killed for the first time. Not a human, of course, but a deer. For a boy facing his first blood moon with a beast under his skin, it was more than enough. My wolf tasted blood—and it changed him. He grew stronger. More dangerous.

After that, hunting became a full-moon ritual. Every month, we went out into the woods. My father would return afterward to lose himself in my mother’s embrace… and I? I was brought she-wolves—willing, eager, and ready for whatever the Alpha’s heir demanded. And after a bloodthirsty hunt, I fucked them with fooles for days, until the end of the moon’s action.

And then again was studying and a harsh drill.

My father was strict, ruthless, but fair. For that, he was both respected and feared—by allies and enemies alike. His name carried weight far beyond our territory, whispered among packs and high-ranking humans alike.

And it was precisely that strength, that unshakable integrity, that made him a thorn in the side of certain humans in power.

There was a piece of land—ancient, sacred, ours for centuries. A dense forest, untouched by time, beloved by wolves for its peace and stillness. My father refused to give it up.

That forest… It is more than just ancient land. It is sacred ground. A sanctuary for wolves.

No matter their pack, any wolf who steps beneath its towering oaks and tangled green canopy feels it—the pull, the magic. The way the soul settles, the beast calms, and everything inside finds balance.

The moment you step into its shade, something inside shifts. You’re not just man. Not just wolf. You become one. The instincts that burn in your blood finally have space to breathe. You stop resisting. You surrender to who you truly are.

It’s the only place I know where the bond between human and beast can deepen without fear or danger. It’s safe. It’s pure. And it’s not meant for humans.

They wouldn’t understand. They never could.

But one man… one greedy, arrogant human thought otherwise.

He looked at that forest and saw profit. Timber, land, tourists. He wanted to build a luxury resort—right in the heart of what should never be touched.

And my father said no.

Firmly. Repeatedly. Unshakably.

And for that... he was marked for death.

He never made it home that night.

The car exploded just minutes after pulling away from his office. Everyone inside was killed instantly—my father, his guards… and even a few innocent bystanders on the street. The blast echoed through the heart of the city, where crowds bustled and life moved fast. Blood stained the pavement, and screams filled the air.

But none of that mattered to the man who ordered it.

To him, lives were just obstacles on the path to wealth.