Under the blazing sun, Charlotte stands tall, her muscles glistening with sweat as she pauses to catch her breath. The training grounds are a flurry of activity, filled with the sounds of clashing swords and grunts of exertion. Preparation is key for the impending battle, Kira told her before she started training her.Charlotte begins her training regimen with a series of stretching exercises, her movements fluid and precise. Limbering up her body, she ensures that every muscle is ready for the challenges ahead. With each stretch, she focuses her mind, channelling her inner strength and determination. She starts with the basics, honing her agility and speed by darting through the underbrush with the grace of a prowling predator. Each movement is deliberate, and calculated, as she weaves between trees and leaps over fallen logs, her wolfish instincts guiding her every step.Next comes combat training. Charlotte faces off against imaginary foes, her claws extended and her fangs bared in
“Hello, Uncle!”Arthur’s eyes snap to Charlotte. As he takes in the woman standing before him, his eyes widen in disbelief and fear.As if he has seen a ghost, he scrambles to put as much as distance possible between them but ends up falling flat on his ass.Charlotte smirks, letting her teeth extend into canines and peek out of her mouth.Arthur starts sweating profusely. He looks at Azraiel and Katya for help but when they maintain a stone face, he realizes he is on his own.“Y-“ he gulps, “You are alive.” He trembles.Charlotte grins. The smell of his fear gives her immense satisfaction.“Yup.” She says popping the ‘p’. “I am alive, despite your schemes to get me killed.”Arthur’s face changes at the accusation.He regains his composure, or at least tries to.“I never wanted you dead, Charlotte. They wanted to kill you but I convinced them to let you leave the continent.” He says, his voice a little clearer than before.Charlotte’s eyes harden.“And that makes it alright?” Arthur v
The moon hung heavy and bloated in the ink-black sky, casting an eerie silver glow upon the desolate landscape below. Charlotte stood alone on the edge of a cliff, her heart pounding like thunder in her chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps that misted in the frigid air. The wind howled mournfully, whipping her dark hair about her face in wild tendrils.But it wasn't just the weather that sent shivers down her spine—it was the figure standing before her, a twisted reflection of herself. Its eyes glowed with a feral light, glinting like shards of shattered glass in the moonlight. Its lips peeled back in a snarl, revealing gleaming, razor-sharp teeth that dripped with blood.Charlotte recoiled in horror, her mind struggling to comprehend what she was seeing. Was this truly her? Was this the monster that lurked within, waiting to be unleashed? The realization struck her like a bolt of lightning, filling her with a bone-deep terror, unlike anything she had ever known.She tried to turn
Charlotte was stunned when Azraiel relayed the events that took place that evening. She knew she had a nightmare, but she had no idea that the said nightmare was about her.Of course, it was! Her wolf remarks.Smartass!She thought that she was a threat to everyone else, so she unknowingly cast a protection spell to contain herself within the half circle. It came as a relief that even when she wasn’t aware, she was wise enough to protect her pack. This eased her worries of becoming a danger to some extent.At least she is not trying to be dangerous on purpose.This incident forced her to face the truth. Her truth! She needs to know herself really well. So well, that she is aware of every being residing inside her and its capabilities and nature. To do nothing would be a gamble on the future. She is too smart to make that mistake.In their home, Azraiel and Charlotte quietly had dinner and went upstairs to the spare room. The damage in their room couldn’t be fixed right now so they d
Katya sat cross-legged on the wooden floor of her cabin, surrounded by stacks of dusty books and old journals. The air was thick with the scent of aged paper and a hint of lavender, her mother’s favourite herb. Sunlight streamed in through the small, round window, casting a warm glow over the room and illuminating the particles of dust that danced in the air. She carefully opened one of her mother's old journals, its leather cover worn and soft from years of use.There was a sense of urgency driving her, a need to uncover something she had overlooked before. The memory of seeing that strange, cryptic language in the books belonging to Charlotte's mother had stirred something deep within her. It was the same language she had seen, long ago, in the margins of her mother's journals, but had never been able to understand. She still remembers sneaking into her mother’s room to steal her favourite lipstick from her bag but coming across a strange journal instead. The cover of that journal w
The air in the dungeon was thick and oppressive, laden with the scent of damp stone and old magic. Charlotte, her face pale and tense, kept a cautious distance, while Azraiel's stern gaze never wavered from the unconscious form of Arthur lying on the rough stone floor, all thanks to the sleeping medicine mixed in his food by Katya. Matt, his expression a mask of concern, stood protectively close to Charlotte, ready for anything.Azraiel’s voice broke the silence, a command wrapped in the velvet of his authority. "Katya.”That was enough to make her move. Previously, she had discovered to threads of magic on Arthur. When she told Azraiel about this, he asked her to look into the matter and discover who cast spells on Arthur.Katya nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. She stepped forward, her hands trembling slightly as she knelt beside Arthur. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and began to chant the ancient incantation, her voice steady and resonant despite the turmoil within
Charlotte and Katya sat at a small, round mahogany table near the fireplace, its embers glowing faintly, providing a comforting warmth. The table was cluttered with the tools of their current endeavour: several old, leather-bound journals, yellowed with age, lay open alongside notebooks filled with their meticulous scribbles. A few reference books on ancient languages and a magnifying glass were also scattered across the table.Charlotte, with her black hair pulled back into a loose bun, leaned over one of the journals, her brow furrowed in concentration. She wore a simple yet elegant navy dress, her sleeves rolled up to avoid smudging the ink. Katya, sitting across from her, was equally focused. Her blond hair cascaded over her shoulders, and she absently twirled a strand around her finger as she read. She wore a light blue blouse and jeans, her attire more casual but equally practical for their work.The room was filled with the quiet rustling of pages and the occasional murmured wor
Azraiel quietly steps into the house, the soft glow of the desk lamp casting a warm circle of light over the cluttered table. The scent of old books and fresh ink hangs in the air. Charlotte and Katya sit hunched over a spread of aged, leather-bound journals, their brows furrowed in concentration. The pages are filled with cryptic language, symbols and characters that twist and curl in an almost hypnotic dance. Beside the journals, a notepad lies open, filled with hastily scribbled notes and tentative translations.Katya's hair is pulled back into a messy bun, a few loose strands framing her intense expression. Her fingers trace the symbols delicately, as if afraid to smudge the ink. Charlotte leans closer to the pages, mouthing the unfamiliar words under her breath. A soft hum of concentration fills the room, punctuated only by the occasional scratch of a pen or the rustle of paper.He smiles a bit, remembering their first encounter in this very home. Back then, Charlotte was unaware
The silence that followed Daniel’s call was as thick as fog. Everyone sat in contemplative unease, their thoughts spiraling into the abyss of uncertainties. Silver flames had been sighted 22 years ago—just a year after the devastating fire at the king’s palace, the same fire that claimed the lives of the werewolf royalty. Could these two events be connected? The implications of such a connection were as vast as they were terrifying.Azraiel’s drawing room felt heavier than ever, the weight of worry and exhaustion palpable in the air. Kira shifted uncomfortably, her gaze moving to the grandfather clock ticking loudly in the corner. Every second seemed to stretch into eternity.Suddenly, the sound of a door creaking open broke the tension. Everyone’s heads snapped toward the staircase, alert and apprehensive.Theo and Matt bolted to their feet, rushing up the stairs.“Azraiel?” Theo’s voice carried a mix of relief and worry as he spotted the Alpha slowly descending the stairs.Azraiel w
The weight of responsibility bore down on Daniel as he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face with calloused hands. The room around him was dimly lit, with the flickering glow of a solitary desk lamp casting long shadows against the walls. The soft hum of the ceiling fan was the only sound accompanying his tumultuous thoughts.He had just returned to his office after a grueling day spent ensuring the security of the forest surrounding the Blue Orchid pack. Every minute had been a whirlwind of meetings, coordination, and checks, with one goal in mind: to eliminate any potential threats before the ball. The gathering of so many Alphas and Lunas in one place was a political and logistical nightmare. It was a powder keg waiting for a spark.And now this.The phone call from Caitlyn had left him shaken. He stared blankly at the pile of papers on his desk, unable to focus on any of it. The words "silver flames" echoed in his mind, each syllable slicing through his thoughts like a blade.
Aunt Caitlyn sat on the plush sofa in Azraiel’s drawing room, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The rich, dark wood of the furniture glinted faintly under the muted glow of the overhead chandelier, and the scent of pinewood from the hearth lingered in the air. She had rushed over in her nightclothes, barely taking the time to throw a coat over her shoulders when Ayleen’s desperate call came.The sound of Ayleen’s sobs still echoed in her ears, and Caitlyn’s heart clenched at the memory. The young woman had flung herself into her arms the moment she stepped through the door, her body trembling with unspoken fears.Now, as she sat in the center of the tension-filled room, Caitlyn couldn’t help but notice how heavy the atmosphere was. Matt and Theo stood to the side, their postures rigid, their expressions grim. Siobhan sat beside Ayleen on the loveseat, murmuring soft reassurances while rubbing her back gently. Ayleen, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen, leaned her head against Siobhan
The moonlight cast a faint, silvery glow on the forest path leading to Alana’s house, illuminating the route just enough for Kira to navigate without stumbling. Her boots crunched softly against the dirt, the sound oddly loud in the stillness of the night. She glanced up at the looming trees, their dark branches intertwining above her to form a canopy that swallowed most of the moonlight. It felt like the forest itself was holding its breath. Alana’s house came into view, a small structure perched on the edge of the pack’s territory. Its isolation was deliberate—an unspoken acknowledgment of the unease the pack felt around the witch. Even as she approached, Kira couldn’t help but feel the weight of its placement. It wasn’t just physical distance that separated Alana from the others; it was a barrier of mistrust and fear. Kira slowed her steps, her hand instinctively resting on the hilt of the dagger strapped to her thigh. She didn’t expect trouble, but being cautious never hurt. The
Katya tossed aside another of her mother’s journals, letting it fall to the floor with a defeated sigh. The thick stack of ancient leather-bound books was strewn across the room, each one filled with spells, enchantments, and writings about flames of every imaginable color—blue, black, green, even a rare purple. But nowhere, not a single line, had mentioned the mysterious silver flame. It felt as though the answers she sought were just beyond reach, buried beneath years of her mother’s guarded knowledge.Katya rubbed her temples, feeling a growing frustration behind her eyes as she got up from the floor, carefully stepping over a couple of loose pages that had scattered during her search. She wandered into the kitchen, her bare feet padding softly on the wooden floor, where the hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of the wall clock punctuated the otherwise heavy silence of the night. She reached for the coffee pot, her hands moving almost mechanically, measuring out the coffee grou
For the next two hours, various tests were conducted on Charlotte to determine the cause of her condition. They wanted to be certain that she was physically fine before drawing any conclusions. Some of the test results came back normal, and now they were awaiting the others.Dr. Humphrey had checked Charlotte’s vitals earlier—her pulse, heartbeat, blood pressure, and brain activity were all normal. Yet, despite these signs of life, Charlotte remained unconscious, as though trapped in a deep slumber. Azraiel lay beside her, his body healing slowly from the burns, but his heart was heavy with worry. The others had left the room to give them space, gathering downstairs in the hall.Katya had left the house altogether, determined to search her mother’s books and journals for anything related to the mysterious silver fire and its effects. Ayleen, who had been inconsolable earlier, reluctantly joined the others after Dr. Humphrey insisted they needed the room to monitor both Charlotte and A
Azraiel’s scream tore through the night as the silver flames licked at his skin, searing his flesh. The pain was unlike anything he had ever felt—blinding, all-consuming—but he pushed through it. His grip tightened around Charlotte’s limp body as he lifted her into his arms, ignoring the fire that burned him down to his core. Every breath was a struggle, coming in short, agonized puffs as the heat smothered him, but he refused to let go.He summoned his true-blooded wolf, the primal strength buried deep within him, and let out a howl of pain and anguish that echoed through the walls. The wolf took over, guiding him with a singular focus—protect Charlotte. His feet moved on instinct as he hurried into the room, the flames still biting at his skin, and laid her carefully on their bed.As soon as her body touched the bed, Azraiel collapsed, his knees buckling under the unbearable pain. He hit the floor with a thud, the flames finally retreating, but leaving him scorched, his body covered
Azraiel felt her pain before he heard her voice. The intensity of the headache that slammed through the mindlink sent a sharp jolt of panic through his entire body. He was at the pack border, inspecting the security for Charlotte’s introductory ball with Kira, Matt, and Katya, when it hit him like a physical blow. The agony was overwhelming, and it wasn’t just his own—he could feel Charlotte’s fear pulsing through their bond.Without a word, Azraiel spun on his heels and sprinted towards her, his heart racing with dread. He knew something was wrong, terribly wrong, and he couldn't waste another second. Behind him, Matt, Kira, and Katya followed, their footsteps pounding through the woods as they tried to keep up with his pace.Matt’s voice cut through the rush of wind and trees as they ran. “Charlotte left the banquet hall a few hours ago. Ayleen left for home not long after. They must be at your place.”Azraiel heard him, but he couldn’t respond. His mind was racing too fast, his hear
Charlotte stood on the balcony, her arms wrapped around her middle, deep in thought as the cool night air played with the loose strands of her hair. Below her, the maze in the garden glowed with a soft golden hue. Yellow-golden fairy lights had been draped intricately along the maze's borders, casting an ethereal glow that illuminated the neatly trimmed hedges. The lights flickered gently in the breeze, their glow stretching out like long fingers that traced across the stone walls of the estate, spilling golden shadows across her face. Her reflection caught in the glass door behind her, her expression drawn, her lips pressed into a thin line of unease.Azraiel had taken charge of the preparations for her ball—her introductory event. As usual, he was meticulous, ensuring every detail was perfect. Charlotte had been busy too, focusing on the decorations and arrangements, but her mind was not with the party. Hours ago, something had happened, something that had shaken her in ways she cou