EMAL
The detention room darkens as evening settles in, the sky slowly consumed by thick clouds. Hours slip by, and I begin to wonder if everyone has forgotten about me. If I had powers, I’d break through the iron lock securing this room and walk out without a second thought. Right now, though, I can't reach out to anyone—not even Matilda. I sigh and lean against the cold wall, my gaze locked on the door, waiting. Seconds stretch into minutes, and my hope fades, until I hear hurried footsteps approaching. My heart leaps as the door swings open, revealing my sister. Indeed, she's the only one that treats me well and I have no doubt about it. "Emal," she calls softly, rushing toward me. She pulls a bottle of water from her bag and hands it to me. I drink eagerly, till I recover from exhaustion. Without another word, we leave the school and head home. On our way back home, we both remain silent. "I'm sorry," she finally says, breaking the quiet. I glance up at her, confused. "Why are you apologizing?" "I should have realized something was wrong when I didn’t see you all day," she murmurs. "But I only found out through some pups gossiping about it." I scoff lightly. "Rumors spread faster than anything else." "What did you say?" she asks, tilting her head. "Nothing," I reply, shaking my head. "And you don’t need to apologize. This isn’t your fault." She pats my back reassuringly, but I still feel the weight of today pressing down on me. "Honestly, I don’t even blame anyone," I mutter. "It’s my fault for not being strong enough, for not being like everyone else. Sometimes, I feel like I’m nothing but a disgrace—to myself, to our family… especially to Dad." Matilda abruptly stops walking and turns to face me. Her hands settle firmly on my shoulders, her gaze intense. "Listen to me, Emal, and never forget this," she utters with conviction. "Everything you’re going through right now is temporary. You are not weak, and you are not at fault for anything. The only ones to blame are those who use your situation to hurt you. They are the real monsters." She pauses, letting her words sink in before continuing. "And one day, you will be strong. When that time comes, you’ll show them exactly where they belong. Understand?" Something changes inside me at her words, and I nod, a small smile forming. I hug her tightly, feeling a flicker of confidence reigniting within me. We resume our walk, picking up the pace as the sky darkens. The moment we step into the castle, my father’s voice rings out. "Why are you just getting home?" His gaze lands on my bruises. "And where did all those injuries come from?" I don’t bother answering. He already knows. News about me travels through the pack faster than a wildfire. Since the pack pups returned home before me, it's a given that dad already knows about the incident. "Dad, he's exhausted," Matilda interjects. "Let him rest before—" "Stay out of this!" he snaps, cutting her off. She huffs in frustration and storms off to her room, grumbling under her breath. "Now," he turns to me, his voice stern. "Explain." "There’s nothing to explain," I mutter, keeping my tone even. It's not like saying a thing would change my current situation. He gestures for me to come closer. I hesitate but obey, stepping forward. When he reaches out to touch my bruises, I instinctively pull back. Does he actually care? Or is this just another act? Seemingly understanding my hesitation, he pulls his hand away, shifting his gaze elsewhere. "Does it hurt?" I don’t answer. I just stare, stunned by the unexpected question. "Does it hurt?" he repeats. This time, I shake my head. "No." He studies me for a moment before saying, "Go to your mother. Tell her to do the needful." Without another word, I turn and head toward my mother’s quarters. On getting there, I find no one in sight. The room is eerily quiet when I step inside. "Your Highness?" I call out, but there's no response. I try again. "Mother?" No response. I sigh, about to leave, when a door creaks open. From the entrance of the Luna's private chamber, my mother steps out with her usual grace, her expression unreadable. "What do you want?" Her voice is as cold as ever. "Father sent me," I say, pointing at my wounds. "He said you should… do the needful." I move closer, expecting her to check my injuries, but she doesn’t even blink. She just stares at me—unmoving, detached. The silence between us thickens, making my stomach churn uneasily. Did I do something wrong? I turn my gaze at the floor, fiddling with my thumbs and a resounding slap land on my face. The force leaves me stunned as my skin burns, the sting spreading like wildfire. Before I can even react, another slap lands on the opposite side of my face, harder than the first. Pain explodes through me. "Wh…what did I do to deserve this?" I demand, raising my voice in anger. "You dare raise your voice at me?" she hisses, her eyes flashing with fury. Tears well up in my eyes, and I quickly blink them away. My hands tremble at my sides. "Why did you fight Blake?" she demands. And just like that, everything clicks into place. So, this is what Father meant by "the needful." He didn’t send me here for care, he sent me to be punished. I feel sick. My own mother, the one person who should be by my side, sees me as nothing but a burden. The pain of that realization is worse than any slap she could give me. Feeling this way is not new to me, but receiving such indifference from her hurts freshly by the day. Most time, I dread going close to her abode. She's so confusing. One minute, she nice; another minute, she's like a lioness whose cub got killed in its presence. I lift my gaze to meet hers. There’s no point in defending myself. No matter what I say, she’s already decided I’m in the wrong. Since no one trusts me, they might as well allege me with the crimes of the whole pack criminals. Being bullied here and there is not something I wish for and it's not my fault for being in the world in the first place. Someone brought me to life after savouring minutes of pleasure. How is it my fault being the way I am? Giving her a final glance with my teary eyes, I run out of her chamber and out of the castle. I don’t stop walking. I don’t even know where I’m going. I just run. Through the castle halls, past the gates, down the winding paths until I reach the lake. My legs give out, and I drop to my knees at the water’s edge. The cool night air stings my bruises, but I barely feel it. I wrap my arms around myself and weep. "It hurts," I whisper. "It hurts so much… but it’s not my fault." I repeat those words over and over until exhaustion overtakes me, and I finally drift into restless sleep.EMAL A cool breeze brushes against my cheeks, stirring me awake. The dark clouds in the sky begins to brighten as the sky gradually become blue. Stretching my limbs, I feel something damp against my skin. Touching it, I realize it's morning dew. With a deep sigh, I take in the tranquil atmosphere, allowing the calm it brings wash over me –a rare moment of peace. But as I glance around, memories of the previous night flood back. I had fallen asleep at the lakeside. Alone. Again. Turning my back at the lake, I face the castle's direction pondering on what my next step should be. I'm definitely not ready to see anyone at the moment. Especially not anyone from the pack. It's too early for me to be ridiculed again. Taking a few steps forward while deciding where to go and what next to do, my stomach grumbles. I pause. Right. I haven't eaten since yesterday afternoon. The thought of returning home for food makes my chest tighten. No, I can’t. I won’t. The maids would probably be pre
EMAL I pick up my pace, walking as fast as I can to school. After what happened yesterday, I refuse to be the center of attention again. I reach the school gates sooner than expected, slipping inside unnoticed. Quietly, I make my way to my classroom and take my seat, trying to blend into the background. The class is settled, waiting for the teacher—if one even decides to show up that is. "How was the game yesterday? Who won?" The voice grates on my nerves before I even look up. Another one of Blake’s minions, here to taunt me first thing in the morning. Not again. I swallow hard, feeling the familiar helplessness settle in my chest. I don’t know what I did to deserve this treatment. Maybe just existing is enough. Being bullied by my own pack members isn’t new, but it doesn’t hurt any less. Some days, I wish things would change overnight. I reach into my bag, searching for something—anything—to distract myself. My fingers finally close around a pencil buried deep within the
LILLY The morning light peeks through the small window of our home, signaling the start of another day. I wake up early, as always, completing my chores before reheating last night’s meal for my grandmother. I don’t worry about eating—I work at a restaurant, and the owner, an old man who treats me like his own, always ensures I’m fed. As I sling my worn-out backpack over my shoulder, making sure my clothes are neat, I hear my grandmother stir from her room. I rush over to her, planting a kiss on her knuckles. "May your old hands be blessed, Granny," I whisper, like I do every morning. She pats my hair gently, her wrinkled fingers warm against my scalp. "And may you prosper in all you do today," she prays in return, thinking I'm heading to work. In truth, I’ll spend a few hours at the restaurant before heading to school—something she must never find out. Just as I turn to leave, her voice calls me back. "Little One," she says, and I sigh internally, knowing what’s coming next
LILLY The weak boy and I make it to the first floor, but as we approach the gate, I spot a few teachers chatting nearby. We quickly duck behind a pillar, waiting for the right moment. When their attention drifts elsewhere, I signal him to follow me. Moving swiftly, we sneak toward the back gate. Luckily, we arrive in time. Without hesitation, we climb over the fence and take off running, dashing through the empty streets like fugitives. The abandoned hut comes into view, and we finally stop, panting heavily. "That was one hell of a run," the weak boy gasps, his blue eyes flickering slightly darker before returning to normal. The sudden shift unsettles me, but I shake it off. I scoff. "That was nothing." I push open the creaky door of the hut, stepping inside. "Why are we here? Why did we have to sneak out? And why are we skipping classes?" He bombards me with questions. I roll my eyes. "One question at a time, weakling." He glares at me. "Weakling, huh? Is that why you bro
AUTHOR Alpha Marcus sits on his grand throne, flipping through the documents before him. The throne room exudes power, its golden embellishments and intricate white designs shimmering under the candlelit glow. A place of strength and authority. Beside him, his Beta, Master Aldrien, scans another set of documents, discussing strategies and solutions for the pack’s current affairs. “How’s the training going?” Marcus asks without looking up. Aldrien, responsible for training the younger wolves, straightens proudly. “Better than expected. The new pups are showing remarkable progress. A little guidance, and they turn it into something even greater.” Marcus nods in approval. “Well done, Aldrien. You’re a blessing to me and this pack. I just hope we never have to go to war again.” Aldrien’s gaze softens. “I know what’s weighing on you, Marcus. Things will fall into place soon.” “I hope so,” Marcus murmurs, his fingers tightening around the parchment in his hand. “Lately, I’ve had
EMAL I have never enjoyed a day as much as I’m enjoying this one—thanks to Little Lily. She takes me to the cottage, carefully cleans my wounds, and dresses them neatly. A part of me is scared of where this friendship might lead, but like she said, I want to give it a try. After finishing with my wounds, I ask her, "Why do you always wear a hoodie? It’s not even cold." She smiles, shrugging. "It helps me keep a low profile when I’m out." "Isn’t it bad that we’re skipping school?" I ask, suddenly feeling nervous. This is my first-time leaving school without notice an entire day, yet somehow, I like it. "Hey, dude, we’ve got to clean this place since it’s going to be our little hideout." Lily pours water into a bowl, holding an old, tattered cloth. It feels like she had all this planned beforehand. I pause for a moment, watching her. Who is she, really? The thought lingers in my mind, but I shake it off. She can’t possibly be someone to spy on me. For the first time, I have so
MARCUS The day has been exhausting. Being an Alpha King isn’t just about authority. It comes with immense responsibility. Protecting the pack is one thing, but ensuring the welfare of Alacia’s people is another. I strip off my royal regalia, changing into my nightclothes. Of course, they’re not just any nightclothes for a common being; they’re made of the finest materials, meant only for royals. I’m about to retire for the night, but I just can’t. Not yet. My mind is too restless. Too many things are troubling me. I close my eyes and send a message to Aldrien—my Beta and confidant. "What?" His voice reaches me like a growl, low and rough, mixed with a muffled moan. I smirk, already knowing exactly what he’s doing. It’s late, and I expected him to be busy with something, but I still need him by my side. There are urgent matters to discuss. I almost tease him. "Screwing a pussy?"—but I hold back. His voice tells me enough. He’s always been a sex-driven bastard, and his mate is so
EMAL "Your Highness." A guard bows slightly as I step through the castle gates. I offer him a small smile before continuing my walk toward the palace. The silence is nearly deafening, the kind that allows even the softest sounds to echo, until I reach the royal block. Here, my older brothers sit together, laughing and exchanging stories with one another, except for Matilda. She never joins them. She despises their conversations, and I can't blame her. They rarely speak of anything meaningful. Their topics revolve around the women they’ve conquered, the figures of those they desire, and the ones who shamelessly throw themselves at them. "Do you need anything?" the guard behind me asks again, noticing my hesitation. I force a polite smile. "Oh no, don’t worry about me. You can go ahead." I step closer to the castle, and suddenly, their attention shifts to me. "Oh, so you finally decided to come back, huh?" Shawl scoffs, his eyes glinting with something dark. It’s as if he’s w
EMALMy feet move on instinct, every step fuelled by dread and desperation.She’s not at home. I know that without a doubt. Lilly wouldn’t go back to that house after what happened. Not when she’s still shaking from what she unleashed. That kind of power… it does something to the mind. And to the heart. Especially to someone like her.Oh heavens, she's fucking human. Well...maybe not. I need to find out who exactly she is, and what.The first place I check is the restaurant. It's dim and quiet, almost eerie without her voice ringing through the kitchen or her scent lingering around. The only presence I sense is Old Fogey’s, washing glasses with his usual huffing and puffing.I don’t ask. I don’t need to. She’s not here.I already know where she is.The hut. Our little hideout which is just far enough to be forgotten by the pack but close enough to sneak away when the world became too much. It is our place. The one place where titles doesn’t matter. Where she isn’t a lone human girl a
MATILDA We barely make it five steps out of the throne hall when Father dismisses us before a guard appears, bowing low. “The Luna requests your presence, immediately.”The guard's tone and gestures as he says it indicates that she wants us all—four of us, excluding Emal. Of course she does.She didn’t even step into the throne room earlier despite that Father instructed a messenger to beckon on her. She claimed the moment Emal transformed had ‘overwhelmed her heart’—whatever that means. But I saw the glint in her eyes as she clutched her chest back at the courtyard. It was no breakdown. Just a carefully timed performance to avoid what she already suspected would unfold in that throne hall.She knew it wouldn’t end in her favor.Darius walks ahead, flanked by Shawl and Xander. I trail behind the three of them, as always, like the forgotten whisper in a roaring storm. But I don’t mind. I’ve grown used to being overlooked by them.Sometimes, being invisible is power.When we reach her
EMAL“Who is that girl to you, Emal?” Father asks, his gaze fixed on me with that signature sharpness that always cuts too deep.The throne hall is empty now, except for the three of us; him, Master Aldrien, and me. Everyone else was dismissed the moment he made his declaration. But I know this isn’t over. Not really.I glance at Master Aldrien but his presence here means this conversation was probably planned.“Who do you mean?” I ask, though the name echoes loud and clear in my mind.“Don’t play games with me, boy,” Father snaps calmly in that unsettling, dangerous way of his. “You know exactly who I’m talking about.”I stay silent.I won’t give her name to him. Not when I still don’t know where we stand. Not when I know what he ordered Blake. What he allowed. I can't do well to think everything is going to end well if I give him Lilly's name. I ha e to talk to her myself first before knowing what next.It’s Master Aldrien who breaks the silence. “Her name is Lilly.”Father’s brow c
EMAL«“What’s wrong? Has he gone crazy?”»«He’s going to end someone at this rate.»Many people are full of concern with fear on their faces as I charge wild, primal and uncontrolled in my wolf. I don't know how to stop it.I've never had to control this part of me before.The primal side of my being surges, making me overwhelmed. I tear through the courtyard, eyes wild, claws digging into the stone before I leap past the dueling grounds, past the walls, out into the open forest that borders the packlands.My father and Master Aldrien end the event without delay. The last howl I let out had already left some spectators injured...tossed backward, stunned, bleeding from their ears. But I don’t look back.I can’t.I’m not me anymore.The forest welcomes me. Branches slap against me, the wind roars in my ears, but nothing slows me. My legs move with blinding speed. I don’t even know what I’m running toward. I just run.“Chase after him,” Father commands behind me.My older siblings shift
EMALI expect Father to say something, probably stop the herald from saying anything more about the special request. After all, it is so obvious the Luna staged this. My eyes plead to him, but he shakes his head silently. What was I thinking? We are celebrating the Luna's birthday which gives her such right to call the shots. I just know she wants me dead. She hates me so much.The herald’s voice barely fades before the ground itself seems to hum.A heavy clang echoes through the air as the massive dueling gates creak open. A figure steps out—no, emerges, like a shadow born of war itself.Valerys Winthrope.The crowd draws a collective breath as he appears, and I swear the temperature drops.He's massive—easily thrice my width, and at least a twice taller. His muscles bunch and flex beneath scarred, inked skin that tells stories of every fight he’s ever won. A black tattoo coils around one arm, making him look all the more scary. His eyes are void of mercy, a pale, grey that seem to
EMALReturning to the ceremonial courtyard, the ceremonial rite begins. I make sure to evade Shawl or any other sibling of mine as I proceed in coordinating the arrangements for the ceremonial rites.The courtyard is now filled with hushes as the pack’s elite soldiers march out in flawless formation. Their synchronized steps echo against the stones sharply. Each of them carries a ceremonial blade—polished, curved, and ancient-looking. This isn’t a show of power.It’s a dance of legacy.They move with grace, spinning and slashing through the air as drums thrum in the background. It feels like the pulse of the earth itself, like the heartbeat of every Luna that ever ruled before ours.When the final movement of the blade dance concludes, they drop to one knee as one, heads bowed.Then, from the line of soldiers, the lead demonstrating soldier steps forward. He is a tall man with broad shoulders and scars like cracked stone lining his neck. He’s handed a brown-golden container by one of
EMALThe outdoor celebration soon begins as ordered by the Alpha.The sun casts a warm, amber glow over the courtyard, where silk banners ripple in the breeze—each one bearing the royal sigil: a silver wolf howling beneath a crescent moon with touch of an irregular design I actually didn't take interest to know what it means.The nobles who are only for the outdoor event are already arriving, dressed in their finest silks and ceremonial armor. Guests are laughing with the distant tune of flutes and lyres, and warriors perform blade dances at the prepared spot for them.At the far end of the courtyard, a raised platform has been arranged for the royal family. Elegant, high-backed chairs are ready for the Alphas and royal figures of our pack and other packs. Just below the platform, the rest of us—royal-borns, nobles, pack warriors of the White Fur Pack—stand in place, waiting to begin the ceremonial rite.Despite the lively atmosphere, I can't shake the chill running down my spine. It i
EMALThe Luna's Birthday.After days of preparation, it is finally the D-day. As scheduled, the events are divided into two major participations. Starting off will be the indoor event taking place in the throne hall which includes prayers, gifting, and small dances from dance troupes. Then, the outdoor event is scheduled for later in the day, in the open field of White Fur Pack. The throne hall is a grand, intimidating place; high ceilings adorned with ravelled carvings, golden chandeliers, and brown banners hanging in deep earth-like colours, bearing the symbol of our pack. The room is filled with the scent of fresh lilies, the Luna’s favorite, arranged meticulously along the walls and on the long banquet table. People from the royal family are around already and also esteemed guests invited for the indoor event.The Luna sits beside the Alpha on the elevated dais, poised and elegant in her embroidered silver gown. Her dark hair is pulled back in a crown of woven braids, and desp
EMALMaster Aldrien intertwines his fingers, resting his hands on the desk. His gaze darts to the book I placed before him, but he says nothing at first."Can you tell me more about power sharing?" I ask.His brows crease, and he leans back in his chair, studying me with curiosity and caution. "Power sharing?" he echoes. "What exactly do you mean by that, Emal?"Wordlessly, I flip open the book, turning to the page that caught my attention earlier. I slide it toward him, tapping the passage with my finger. "This. It talks about someone who used power sharing to win a fight. But it doesn’t explain how."Master Aldrien exhales slowly, his shoulders visibly relaxing as he takes in the words on the page. A long, unreadable silence stretches between us before I break it."So," I press, watching him closely. "Do you know how to take power from your opponent?"His eyes snap to mine, and his expression hardens. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."Liar.I recognize the way his eyes twitc