The night was long, its blackness broken only by the gentle light of dispersed candles and the always wary gaze of the stars. Perched on the top of a windswept mountain, I peered out over a country scarred by centuries of violence. Along my arm, my Crescent Mark throbbed with a consistent, mesmerizing pattern, reminding me that every wolf who had ever bore the weight of the Crescent Bloodline shared my fate—not just mine.
Tonight, I would create a legacy that would guarantee our pack would emerge from the ashes of our history, therefore countering the flow of treachery and anarchy.
Since the days of broken trust and limitless violence, I had come far. Every tribulation, every treachery, had brought me to this point where the hope of a fresh dawn mixed with the moon's illumination. But I understood that an Alpha's heritage was a burden, sculpted in sacrifice and woven into the very fabric of our hearts; it was never a gift.
