The northern winds tore through the peaks, rattling cloak and bone alike. The Alpha, Theodore, stood before his massive black horse, the creature's obsidian coat gleaming like liquid night, its tail swaying like a dark banner in the gusts. For a moment, the world seemed to pause—silent, expectant, trembling.
Theodore's golden eyes met the horse's steady gaze. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the beast's.
My dear, my beloved," he said, voice low, sharp, and commanding. "Tonight, we ride not as men or mortals… but as forces the world will never forget. You will carry him—Oliver—because even in weakness, we show strength. We show power. We show the Crimson Pack's glory."
The horse snorted, muscles coiling, ears flicking in understanding. Theodore smiled, sharp and proud. "Hold steady, my friend. The North will witness the wrath, the pride, and the unyielding will of its Alpha. And they will remember Theodore.
"The northern winds had not yet died when Theodore mounted the creature he had captured the day before—a dragon, pure-blooded, its veins coursing with the long-lost Purple Blood, thought extinct for five millennia. Its wings shimmered with violet hues, fins gleaming like carved amethysts, and when it exhaled, ice—not fire—spilled forth in crystalline torrents, freezing the air itself.
Theodore leaned forward, pressing a hand against the dragon's snout. "We ride," he murmured, voice sharp and commanding. "North, South… it matters not. The Crescent Pack's glory follows us, and all who dare doubt shall kneel before what I have claimed."
With a powerful flap of the dragon's wings, they soared across snow-capped peaks, icy gusts slicing through the night. Behind him, Oliver rested, still weakened, yet secured safely. His friends—Leo, Lucas, Rowan, Dorian, and Cassian—followed closely, riding their own mounts, silent witnesses to the Alpha's might.
As they descended upon the southern lands, the pack awaited them. Every eye widened at the sight: flowers rained upon the five tents of Theodore and Oliver, petals scattering like sparks of light over frost-kissed grass. Whispers spread through the crowd:
"Oh my God… how did Alpha capture that creature? Wasn't it extinct for 5,000 years?"
"Yes… how… how can it bow before him?"
The murmurs swelled into astonishment as Theodore's golden eyes glinted in amusement. A slow, narcissistic smirk curved his lips. See now… see what power I wield. I am the most feared among them all.
His gaze swept across the crowd—and there she was. Isabella, emerging from the grand balcony of the mansion, her eyes a luminous, burning light-purple. Their eyes locked, the air thick with unspoken challenge and intrigue.
Theodore leaned back slightly, voice low but laced with pride. "Isabella… you think that after marriage, I will treat you as my mate ? No." His claws flexed, his grin sharp. "See this? See what I have done? This… is power. This… is what you cannot touch. And yet, here you are, staring into it."
The wind carried his words, a warning and a declaration, while the dragon exhaled icy shards that glinted in the rising sun. Theodore's aura radiated dominance, pride, and the thrill of unshakable power. All who watched—friend, foe, and pack alike—knew that the Alpha was not merely victorious; he was untouchable.