Ruins Of Alph Novels & Stories

"You're the reason I can even fight this. Justin wants to turn everything into a graveyard basically. If giving up this power stops him, then it's more like a gift, I guess, not some curse." He pressed his forehead to mine. "We've got a long ride ahead. The scouts say the Red Alpha is camped at Shattered Ridge. Old magic up there is the perfect spot for his kind of rot to take hold. Once we hit the base of the mountain, there's no going back." "Then let's get moving," I said, trying to sound braver than I felt.

There will be scenes of BDSM dynamic between our Male Lead and Female Lead, so if you aren't into kink or it makes you uncomfortable, please do not read any further. I hope that you enjoy Alpha of the Dead. --Sydney

Riven, the Delta General, reported. “They’ve been wiped?” Kael asked coldly. “We don’t know. No survivors. Just… no trace.” Kael looked down at the map. “He’s using shadow magic. Necroweaving. Only the oldest Alphas knew how to wield that.” “And only one was mad enough to try,” Aria said from the doorway, now wearing armor lined with moonstone. Everyone turned to her. “I saw something while I was inside that… dust.” Her voice was clearer now. Stronger. “A fortress. Hidden beyond the Scorched Cliffs. He’s building an army… and he has prisoners.”

The Alpha’s World Talia’s POV We arrived at the fortress few hours later. It rose out of the landscape like something that had always been there… stone walls dark with age, iron gates tall enough to swallow the sky, and along the upper edges, shapes I didn’t let myself look at too long. Bones and remnants of old wars pressed into the building like decoration. A reminder, I supposed, of what happened to those who stood against them. The gates opened as we approached. There was no signal, it just opened.

My fingers blackened with dust and soot as I moved deeper into the ruins. Histories. Deaths. Border disputes. Bloodlines I didn't recognize. Records old enough that the territories described in them looked nothing like the ones I knew. Nothing about the prophecy. I pulled another scorched book from beneath a collapsed shelf. Most of the cover was gone. I nearly tossed it aside. Then I saw the words pressed faintly into what remained of the leather. Royal Records of the Alpha Kings. I stopped. That was old. Very old. I held the book beneath the lantern's glow and carefully opened it.

“This Alpha…Sebastian…he has a reputation. He wants things a certain way, and Oliver wants to make a good first impression. This is quite literally the biggest trade offer our pack has seen.” Alpha Sebastian De Luca was the CEO of a pharmaceutical company. He comes from one of the oldest, most established, and largest packs in the state. It’s said his great-grandfather was the first to mass-produce rut suppressants and heat inducers. That’s the only information I heard about him in passing when Oliver kept fussing over accounting files. His company needed the herbs that our pack could supply. It would open new avenues for pack members and also bring in extra money for the packhouse.

He tells me and I take a step away from the triplets and walk over to the edge of the roof. The pack is in shambles. Buildings falling apart and people searching the streets. I look around and the castle is just as bad. “Alpha of the ruins. Seems fitting.” I whisper to myself, but Gunner chuckles behind me. He steps closer, until I can feel his body heat, but he keeps his hands to himself. “Alpha of the rising, Grace. I’ve never seen someone knocked down so many times and only come back stronger each and every time. You’re not the Alpha of the ruins. Your Alpha of the Phoenix.” Gunner tells me and I turn to look at him.

Even Sage, my Beta, took a half-step back. Good. Let them remember who they were talking to. I pulled the mask from my face, and the murmuring stopped. Every sound in that grand hall, the shuffling feet, the nervous coughs, the whispered prayers died the moment they saw my expression clearly. There were stories about me. I knew this. The Blackridge Alpha. The monster who had rebuilt an entire pack on the bones of his enemies. The man who had once burned three alliances to the ground because they dared underestimate him.

"Talk. "I set the cup down. "His name is Adrian Thorne." I said. "He's a Lycan. The last Alpha of his bloodline." I watched her face process that without expression and continue to hold. "Edgar and Elora orchestrated the destruction of his people three years ago.

With that internal vow hardening my resolve, I struck out along the newly cleared path, breaking into a steady jog towards the looming threshold of the ruins beyond. Whatever fresh metaphysical mind-reaving gauntlets waited within, I would face them with the combined ferocities of both the feral mother alpha and divine matriarchal luminary set to eclipse all boundaries! . .... The dirt path gave way to crumbling stone as I stepped through a weathered path, the old symbol of the Blackmoon pack carved above. Omgoddes! My breath caught when I had finally reached the fabled ruins where the Lost Archive lay hidden. 'About time!' Ria huffed impatiently. 'I thought we'd never get past those desicca