The night in Moonfang was heavy with silence, the kind that carried fear rather than peace.
The moon hid behind drifting clouds, as though even it refused to witness the growing darkness within the pack.
Luna Seraphina stood on the balcony of the Alpha Hall, her silver hair loose and wild in the wind. Her eyes were red and tired, but her spirit burned with determination. For moons, she had not stopped searching for her son. She had sent scouts, healers, even lone wanderers into the farthest parts of the realm. None returned with hope. Some came back broken, others never came back at all.
Still, she refused to accept the whispers.
The whispers that said her son, Alpha Lucian, was gone forever.
She remembered his first cry when he was born, the storm that raged that very night. She remembered how the midwives had looked upon him with both awe and fear when the mark of the moon burned faintly on his shoulder. The curse of the prophecy. The child fated to bring both salvation and destruction to their kind.
Even as a baby, he had eyes like liquid silver, eyes that saw too much, eyes that carried sorrow even before he knew what sorrow was. He rarely smiled, and when he did, it was fleeting. But to Seraphina, he was perfect. Her son. Her Alpha.
She gripped the rail, whispering to the cold air, "You are not dead, my child. The moon would have told me if you were."
Behind her, footsteps echoed softly. It was her daughter, Lyra.
The young she-wolf's eyes were swollen from crying. She had not eaten in days, and her once lively laughter was now a memory. She carried her brother's pendant in her hand, the one he had given her when they were children.
"Mother," she said softly, her voice trembling. "What if he truly is gone? What if the curse has taken him?"
Seraphina turned and cupped her daughter's face. "Then let the curse take me too, because I will not live in a world without him."
Tears filled Lyra's eyes and she buried her face against her mother's chest. They stood there, clinging to each other, as the wind howled through the mountains like a beast mourning its kin.
Across the pack, grief had turned to chaos. Some wolves were mourning their Alpha, others whispering about the need for a new one.
Caius, in the shadows of the council chamber, smiled to himself as he listened to the murmurs of unrest.
He had spent days spreading his poison, whispering into the ears of the weak and fearful, twisting their doubts into anger. He visited the homes of the frightened, offering them promises of protection. He told them that Seraphina had gone mad, that she was leading the pack into ruin. That the only way to restore strength was through new leadership.
Through him.
His honeyed words wrapped around their hearts like chains.
Still, many refused to believe him. "The true Alpha is not dead," they said. "We would feel it in the bond."
But Caius only smiled. "You cling to hope because you are afraid of the truth."
He left them with those words and moved on, planting more seeds of doubt wherever he went.
When he received the king's letter, his smile widened.
King Aldred's words were sharp and cold:
"The old Luna weakens. Strike soon. When she falls, the throne will be yours, and I will grant your pack peace under my rule."
Caius folded the letter carefully and burned it in the fire.
Peace under his rule, that was the king's promise.
But Caius had no intention of kneeling forever. Once he became Alpha, he would destroy the human king as well.
His ambition had no end.
That same night, Luna Seraphina called a meeting with the elders and trusted warriors in the great hall. The air was tense, filled with the scent of rain and fear.
Elder Rowan, the oldest among them, leaned on his staff. "Luna, we have searched every forest and mountain. No sign of the Alpha or his beta. Perhaps it is time to accept.... "
"Do not finish that sentence," Seraphina said sharply. "My son lives."
Caius stepped forward from the shadows. "And what if he does not, my Luna? The pack needs an Alpha, someone to lead them before the humans strike again. You are strong, but not forever. We must act before we lose everything."
Her gaze turned to him like fire. "You speak too eagerly of power, Caius."
He bowed his head, pretending humility. "I only speak of duty."
But behind his lowered lashes, his eyes glimmered with malice.
Outside the hall, thunder rolled across the mountains.
Far away, in a small apothecary hidden deep within the vale village, Lucian stirred.
His breathing was shallow, his skin pale. Selene sat beside him, her hand hovering above his wound. The air smelled of herbs and faint magic. She had been chanting softly for hours, the ancient words wrapping around them like threads of light.
Darius stood near the door, arms crossed, his expression carved with worry.
He had refused to leave, despite her insistence. He did not trust witches, not after what their ancestors had done to his kind. Yet as he watched Selene work, a small piece of that old hatred began to falter. She was not harming Lucian. She was saving him.
Lucian's eyes fluttered open for a brief moment, his gaze unfocused. "Selene…" he whispered weakly.
She froze. "Rest. You are safe."
He looked at her, but his mind was far away, flashes of betrayal, blood and fire swirled behind his eyes. Then darkness claimed him again.
Selene's hands trembled. She felt something stir deep inside her, something dangerous. The curse's energy pulsed faintly through Lucian's body, reacting to her magic, binding them even tighter.
Darius watched her in silence, torn between gratitude and suspicion. He thought of his mate, Alora, and the ache of not being able to reach her through the mindlink. The distance had severed their bond, leaving him feeling hollow. But duty held him where he stood.
He could not leave his Alpha. Not now.
Back in Moonfang, Caius moved through the night like a shadow. His plans were nearly complete. The humans would soon march, and by dawn, he would claim the Alpha throne for himself.
He did not see the owl perched above him, its eyes glowing faintly silver.
Selene's familiar.
Through it, she saw everything.
And as the vision faded, her heart filled with dread. She turned to Darius, her voice urgent. "Something terrible is coming to your pack. You must go back and warn them."
But Darius shook his head. "I will not leave my Alpha."
Selene's eyes flashed with frustration. "Then your pack will burn."
He looked at her, jaw clenched. "Let it burn then. My duty is here."
Selene exhaled sharply and turned back to Lucian. Her hands pressed against his wound again, her magic flowing stronger now, shimmering with faint light.
Above them, the wind howled, carrying whispers from the mountain, whispers of war, betrayal and blood.
And in Moonfang, Caius smiled in the dark.
The false Alpha was about to rise.