~ The Werewolf Realm ~
Alpha Levi's POV
Micha and I went back into my room to continue reading. We were both too excited to stop. The story was becoming more mysterious with every page. Entering my room, we saw the book on the table, waiting for us like it had a mind of its own. The moment I approached, the book opened by itself and glowing golden letters floated up from the pages.
Micha and I exchanged looks—half shocked, half thrilled.
I picked the book carefully, and we both sat in the chairs facing the table. The book felt warm, almost alive. As soon as our eyes landed on the words, the letters began to form sentences like the book could hear our thoughts.
It felt like the book wasn't just telling a story.
It was speaking… directly to us.
---
"Dearest gentle reader, welcome. This book has been waiting for you. Now we continue the journey of how the war between realms truly began."
The letters slowly faded and new ones appeared.
"The King of the Vampire Realm, Roosevelt—condemned and hated—tried to explain to the realms what actually happened. But no one cared for his truth."
Micha leaned forward.
I could feel my heart pounding slightly.
No one wanted to hear his side… They only wanted revenge.
"When the realms waged war against him, Roosevelt retaliated. The war had just begun, but the werewolf realm crossed the line when they secretly sent warriors to the vampire palace. They violated and murdered his Queen in cold blood, then sent the message to the realms."
Micha exhaled sharply.
"That's… brutal," he whispered.
Brutal wasn't even enough to describe it.
"Roosevelt lost all sense of reason. His Queen—the only reason he ever wanted to live, the only one who believed him—was gone. The war became madness."
Weeks passed—then something unnatural happened.
No one knew where he went.
No one knew what he sacrificed.
No one knew who—or what—he made a pact with.
But one day, he returned.
Not alone.
"He came back with an army of winged creatures—pale skinned, purple-eyed, regal beings. Human in shape, but not human. Beings of darkness and power."
The battlefield paused. Even war had to stop at the sight of such a thing.
The letters began glowing darker, almost as if even the book feared the memory.
"The dark-winged creatures stormed the battlefield with confidence, eliminating all who stood in their way. Blood painted the ground red."
Elves.
Witches.
Werewolves.
None of them stood a chance.
Then, something unexpected happened.
Princess Eloise—the elven princess who was once taken advantage of—appeared on the battlefield. She fought like someone who had already died inside. Her eyes were filled with hatred, her strikes aimed at only one enemy… King Roosevelt.
The book described her speed—like dancing wind. Beautiful, deadly, graceful.
"Roosevelt, lost in madness, stared with eyes full of bloodlust. Eloise smiled, mocking him. 'I told you I would ruin you, Your Majesty. May bitterness and sorrow be your eternal companions.'"
Micha's brows tightened.
"She provoked a man who already lost everything. That's suicide."
The next lines formed slowly, dramatically.
A roar shook the skies.
Not human.
Not beast.
Ancient.
"A dragon appeared. Black scales, silver eyes, wings stretching wider than any castle. It landed with pride, lowering itself before Roosevelt."
Both of us froze.
A dragon. A real dragon.
Even the book seemed to tremble on the page.
The dark-winged creatures bowed.
The dragon bowed to Roosevelt.
The battlefield fell silent.
Roosevelt climbed its back, gripping its spikes.
He stared down at the princess.
"Since you murdered my Queen… you do not deserve to breathe. Burn."
No spell, no blade—just flame.
Princess Eloise screamed.
Her body turned to ashes.
Just like that.
No one moved. No one breathed.
"The realms realized they had awakened a monster. The elves, witches, dwarves—slaughtered. Their armies fell like leaves in a storm. The werewolves… disappeared."
Micha scoffed.
"They ran?"
The book continued as if answering him.
"They fled like cowards. They chose survival over honor. They could have died bravely, but instead they abandoned the battlefield."
Even though the book was just paper… it felt like it was judging us.
Me. My ancestors. My entire race.
Micha sighed, "Well… if a dragon landed in front of me, I'm not fighting."
I didn't blame him.
But the story wasn't done.
"The werewolf realm did not escape punishment. King Roosevelt hunted them down. He killed their Queen and the first child of their royal bloodline."
Micha's eyes widened.
"That means… the royal blood ended there?"
I swallowed.
Or so everyone believed.
"But before Roosevelt's Queen died, she cursed the werewolf race. A curse of blood, pain, and suffering. A curse that remains until the last day of the realms."
Micha leaned closer.
"What curse?"
The next lines formed slowly, dripping with tension.
"The curse of the moon."
The letters flickered like candlelight.
"From that day, the werewolves would live strong but broken—powerful but controlled. Their rage, once a weapon, would become their prison. Their love, once pure, would become painful. Every werewolf born under the moon would suffer the same fate."
A chill ran down my spine.
"Their mates would be their weakness. Their emotions would destroy them. Their hearts would never be free of pain until the bloodline of Roosevelt's Queen is restored."
Micha's breath hitched.
"That means… there's someone alive? Someone with that bloodline?"
I didn't know. The book didn't say yet.
But we weren't done reading.
"And so, the war ended. Not because the realms won… but because the realms surrendered. Roosevelt became the King of Chaos. The dark-winged creatures became his army. The dragon, his weapon."
The golden ink glowed brighter.
"From that day, the realms were no longer equal."
Silence.
The room felt heavier, colder.
Micha placed her hand on the page carefully.
"Levi… do you think this is true? Or just old stories to scare children?"
Before I could answer, new letters appeared—different from before.
Sharper. Darker.
"Alpha Levi of the Werewolf Realm, this is not just a story. It is your history. Your curse. And your responsibility."
My heart skipped.
The book… wrote our names.
Micha jumped back from the chair.
"What the hell?! Levi, the book knows us!"
The ink twisted again.
"You carry the blood of the lost wolves. The curse is not over. The Queen's bloodline still breathes… hidden, unaware, and in danger."
Goosebumps crawled up my arms.
Me? The Queen's bloodline? How?
Micha whispered, "Levi… this is about you."
I didn't want to believe it, but something inside me wasn't surprised.
The moon always felt different with me. My wolf was always stronger than others. My rage… my instincts… my power…
Maybe this was why.
But the book was not done.
"A child was saved. A child born from the blood of the cursed Queen. That child grew, lived, and survived… but fate is cruel. The realms are moving again. Danger is coming."
Micha's eyes filled with fear.
"Who is the child? A vampire? A werewolf?"
The letters appeared again, slowly… painfully.
"She has returned. And when the realms collide again, her blood will either save the worlds… or destroy them."
She.
Not he.
A girl. Alive. Carrying the curse—and the cure.
I felt something tighten in my chest.
A wolf somewhere in my blood woke up.
Growling.
Recognizing something I couldn't name.
The page flickered.
The book closed itself.
A soft breeze moved through the room, although no windows were open.
Micha whispered, "Levi… what if this is real? What if this war is coming back?"
I couldn't answer her.
Because deep down, I already knew the truth.
The girl wasn't just alive.
She was close.
Too close.
And whether she knew it or not…
The war of realms was about to begin again.