Kade Draven—The Blackthorn Alpha
The drive back to my estate is a blur of darkness and fury. The roads twist through the vast expanse of my territory, the dense, looming trees casting jagged shadows under the cold glow of the moon. My hands grip the steering wheel like a vice, my knuckles white with restrained rage.
Lilith.
The sound of her name alone sends a fresh wave of fury crashing through me. The way she looked at me tonight—like I was nothing. Like I was beneath her.
She was mine.
And yet, she stood before me, unyielding, her sharp tongue cutting through me with the precision of a blade. The fire in her eyes, the raw defiance in her stance—everything about her was a taunt, a challenge to my authority. To my claim.
I slam my foot on the gas. The engine roars like a beast unleashed, the tires shrieking against the asphalt as my estate looms into view.
The Blackthorn Manor stands like a monolith against the night, its dark spires piercing the sky. Gothic architecture stretches upward, the stone walls jagged and imposing, as though they were carved from the bones of my enemies. Gargoyle statues perch on the grand archways, their hollow eyes forever watching, forever guarding. Ivy snakes up the stone like veins, twisting through the cracks of history, whispering of the bloodshed that built this empire.
I kill the engine and step out. The air here is thick with the scent of damp earth and burning wood from the torches lining the courtyard. The Blackthorn sigil—a raven with its wings spread wide, clutching a dagger in its talons—is engraved in the wrought-iron gates.
A symbol of strength. Of dominance.
I am the Alpha of the Blackthorn Pack. The heir to this throne.
And Lilith is meant to stand beside me.
Not against me.
Wether I once rejected her or not.
The thought curdles like poison in my veins as I push through the towering doors.
Inside, the manor is a blend of old-world opulence and ruthless efficiency. Crimson and obsidian banners drape from the vaulted ceilings, each embroidered with the Blackthorn crest in shimmering silver thread. A grand chandelier, its iron frame twisted into the shape of interlocking claws, casts flickering golden light across the black marble floors. The air carries the scent of aged leather, spiced whiskey, and something darker—something ancient.
My aunt is waiting for me.
Selene Draven.
She sits in the drawing room, a vision of calculated elegance. Even in her age, there is no frailty in her. Her silver-streaked hair is pinned back in a severe twist, her cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. A goblet of red wine rests in her manicured fingers, and when she looks up, her piercing gaze—so much like my mother's—locks onto mine.
"You're late," she murmurs, swirling the wine in slow, deliberate motions. "I expected you back sooner."
I don't respond immediately. Instead, I stride to the liquor cabinet and pour myself a drink, my fingers tightening around the crystal glass.
She watches me, taking a slow sip of her wine before speaking again.
"Judging by your temper, things did not go as planned."
I down the whiskey in one go, the burn doing nothing to temper my frustration.
"She humiliated me," I grit out, setting the glass down with more force than necessary. "She refuses to acknowledge what we are. Refuses to come back."
Selene exhales, shaking her head. "She is stubborn. That much is undeniable."
"She's reckless," I snap. "She thinks she can defy me and walk away unscathed."
At this, Selene's lips curl into something between amusement and pity. "You should have expected this, Kade. Lilith was never meant to be controlled like the others."
My jaw clenches. "She was mine first."
Selene's gaze darkens. "She still is."
Something in her tone makes me pause.
She sets her goblet down and leans forward, folding her hands in her lap. "You must bring her back, Kade."
"I intend to," I mutter. "One way or another."
She studies me for a long moment, then sighs. "You don't understand what's at stake."
I frown. "What are you talking about?"
She glances toward the fireplace, the flames casting flickering shadows across her sharp features. Then, she speaks.
"I met with Magnus Voss."
The name slams into me like a hammer to the chest. Magnus Voss—the oldest seer in our world. A man whose prophecies have shaped the course of history.
A slow dread curls in my gut. "And?"
Selene meets my gaze, her voice low, weighty. "There is a prophecy, Kade. One that changes everything."
I remain silent, tension coiling around my spine.
"She is the one," Selene continues. "The first female Alpha. The first to ever rule."
I inhale sharply. "That's impossible."
"No," she whispers. "It is inevitable."
My pulse pounds.
"She will overthrow you," Selene murmurs, the words slicing through the silence like a death sentence. "She will take your throne. The Blackthorn Pack will be hers."
I don't move. I barely breathe.
Then, slowly—deliberately—I reach for my whiskey glass and pour myself another drink. My mind churns, my thoughts a storm of denial and fury.
Overthrow me?
Rule as Alpha?
No.
I refuse to let that happen.
Lilith might have rejected me tonight. She might have walked away, believing she was free from me.
But she's wrong.
She is still mine.
And I will make sure of it.
Damon Volkova is in my way.
That won't last long.
The Next Morning—The Blackthorn Pack Headquarters
The Blackthorn Pack House is a fortress of its own—an industrial masterpiece of steel and stone, standing at the heart of our territory. It is where the business of our pack is handled, where warriors train, where laws are enforced.
Inside, the scent of leather and fresh ink lingers, the walls lined with towering shelves of records and decrees dating back centuries. The morning sunlight spills through the floor-to-ceiling windows, but even that does nothing to soften the cold efficiency of the space.
I stride into my office, my presence enough to send every subordinate scrambling out of my way. My Beta, Julian Graves, waits inside, standing at attention.
"Alpha," he greets with a nod. "There's been a development."
I lift a brow. "Go on."
He hesitates, then steps closer. "It's about Lilith."
Everything in me goes still.
"What about her?" I demand, my voice edged with warning.
Julian exhales sharply. "She's made a move. A bold one."
My blood turns to ice.
"She's—"
The doors to my office burst open before he can finish.
One of my enforcers rushes in, eyes wide with urgency.
"Alpha," he pants. "We have a problem."
My patience snaps. "Speak."
He swallows hard. "It's Lilith. She's—"
A pause.
Then—
"She's declared war."
The room plunges into silence.
And I—
I begin to smile.