It was Erika’s fifteenth birthday, and the air outside was crisp with the promise of late autumn. As she stood in the doorway of the small house she’d grown up in, Erika waved to her mother, who was seated at the kitchen table, sorting through papers.
“I’m heading to the park to meet Emily and the others,” Erika called over her shoulder. “I’ll be back before dinner.”
Her mother looked up, her face softening with that familiar maternal affection. “Sure, it’s your birthday. Enjoy it with your friends. But there’s something I need to talk to you about later, when you get back, okay?”
Erika nodded, distracted by the thought of meeting her friends. She'd planned to spend a fun evening with them, maybe swing by the ice cream shop afterward. As she stepped out into the cool afternoon, the world felt alive—unaware of the impending storm.
Erika was different, though. She knew it. Her family was different. But she didn’t let that show when she was with her friends. Living in a small town, surrounded by humans, Erika had learned to hide the truth. Her Lycan heritage wasn’t something she could share with anyone, not even Emily, her best friend. It was easier this way—having her secret and her normal life, even if it sometimes felt like a quiet lie.
She crossed the street toward the park, her sneakers crunching on the gravel. The town was still, as peaceful as ever, the same quiet streets and familiar faces. But then, as she walked past the bakery on the corner, something shifted. A chill ran up her spine. Something wasn’t right.
Her senses, more attuned than those of the humans around her, picked up the unusual sight of men in dark suits standing near the old firehouse. They weren’t familiar faces. As she squinted, she caught sight of the lapel pins they wore—a black-and-silver insignia, resembling an intricate crest she’d only ever seen before on the few occasions she’d visited The Board.
The Board governed Lycan society like any country’s government, but its scope went beyond geography, encompassing the entire globe.
But what brought agents of The Board to a predominantly human town like Black Lake?
Shaking the thought away, Erika quickened her pace toward the park, eager to put her unease aside and enjoy her day. But as she neared the entrance, she heard the faint sound of sirens in the distance, barely audible over the murmur of children’s laughter. Her heart skipped. Something was wrong.
Half an hour later, as Erika laughed with her friends on the swings, the sound of a police car’s siren grew closer, then another, then more. Her stomach dropped, a sense of foreboding sinking in as she glanced up the street.
There, just at the edge of the park, a line of ambulances and police cars had arrived, their flashing lights bright against the evening sky.
Emily, noticing Erika’s sudden change in demeanor, leaned closer. “What do you think is going on?” she asked, her brow furrowed.
Erika shook her head, trying to mask her concern. “I don’t know… maybe some sort of accident?”
Her words didn’t sound convincing, even to herself. Erika’s senses were on high alert now, a warning deep inside her gut.
Without another word, she started walking back in the direction of her street, though her heart beat faster with each step. She reached the edge of the park and froze. A sleek black car had pulled up, and two men stepped out, dressed in dark suits that swallowed the afternoon light. They wore black sunglasses, even though it was still early in the day. There was something unnerving about them—something cold, calculating.
She didn’t recognize them, but the strange insignia on their lapels caught her eye. Agents of The Board. Her pulse quickened.
The men didn’t seem to notice her, but Erika felt their presence like a weight pressing down on her chest.
Shaking her head, she tried to push the thought aside, focusing on getting home. Her mind raced, her senses heightened. When she arrived at her street, she was struck by the unnatural stillness in the air.
Erika’s heart began to race again as she crossed the yard and rushed toward the house. The police were everywhere—more than she had ever seen in her life. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized—this wasn’t a road accident. Whatever it was, it happened in their house.
“No. No, no, no!” she whispered, her voice trembling as she reached the edge of the yard. Uniformed officers stood like sentinels, blocking her way. “That’s my house! My family—”
“Erika Regis?” A voice cut through her panic. She turned to see the two men in dark suits stepping toward her. Their faces were grim, their movements deliberate.
“Yes,” she stammered, trying to push past them. “Let me through! My mom—”
“You must come with us,” one of them said, his hand closing around her arm.
“What? No!” Erika pulled against his grip, panic surging through her veins. “I need to see my mom!”
The man’s eyes softened, but his voice remained firm. “You can’t. We need to get you to safety.”
Erika’s heart dropped. “What’s going on? Where’s my mom? My dad? My brother— are they hurt?”
The man’s expression didn’t change. “They’re gone, child. Your family’s been… compromised, and you’re in grave danger.”
Erika opened her mouth to protest, but before she could say anything, they seized her. Her body went rigid in their grasp as they hustled her toward a waiting car, her heart racing in confusion.
“What happened to my family? Where are they? I need to see my mother!” She struggled, but the men’s grip was unyielding.
One of them glanced at her, his face unreadable. “We’re taking you to a place where you’ll be safe.”
Safe? Erika’s mind spun with unanswered questions. What had happened? What did these men want with her? And why were they so certain she was in danger?
As the car doors slammed shut, the world outside faded from her view, and the familiar town she once called home slipped away.
The elder agent sitting next to her explained the situation. “We received an anonymous tip that there was an attack,” he began. “But we arrived too late. They were all dead.”
“Dead? How?” Her voice almost a whisper.
The agent nodded, lowering his eyes. “I’m sorry… they were killed in the only manner that Lycans can be killed… but it was swift.”Erika couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It was a nightmare impossible to wake up from. She didn’t know where they were taking her, and she didn’t care anymore. She hadn’t noticed how long she’d been sitting in the car, crying her heart out. It must have been hours.
The sleek black car rolled to a stop on a gravel driveway, its headlights slicing through the fog that clung to the imposing structure ahead.
She peered out the window, her breath catching in her throat. The castle loomed in the darkness like a sentinel, its weathered stone walls rising into the misty sky. An iron sign on the entrance indicated they’ve reached the Abbey of the Daughters of Athena. Shadows danced across its façade as if the building itself were alive, watching her. The thick iron gates had already closed behind them with a groan, sealing her fate.
One of the agents opened the car door for her. “This way, Miss Regis,” he said, his voice as unreadable as his expression.
Erika hesitated, gripping her seatbelt like it was her last lifeline. But there was no point resisting. She unclasped the belt and stepped out into the chill night air. Gravel crunched beneath her sneakers as she straightened, her breath puffing like smoke in the cold.
The Abbey stood on a hill surrounded by dense forest, its spire piercing the heavens. Lights flickered in only a few windows, faint and pale. The rest of the structure was shrouded in darkness, its gothic arches and towering buttresses casting eerie shadows against the moonlight.
Before she could take it all in, the great oak doors creaked open, revealing a tall, severe-looking woman framed by the faint glow of candlelight from within. She wore a long, dark gown with a high collar and a cloak draped over her shoulders. Her silver hair was pulled into a tight bun, accentuating her angular face.
“Miss Erika Regis,” the woman said, her voice clipped yet warm enough to echo in the quiet. “Welcome to the Abbey of the Daughters of Athena. I am Mathilda Schultz, the Abbey’s directress. Come, child. It is late, and the night is no time for wandering.”
The agents exchanged a brief nod with Mathilda, then turned back to Erika. “This is where we part ways,” the elder agent said. His partner gave a slight bow, and without another word, they got back into the car and drove away, leaving Erika standing in the driveway.
Erika’s hands clenched into fists. Part of her wanted to run, to scream for answers, but the towering figure of Mathilda drew her focus.
“This way,” Mathilda instructed, her tone brooking no argument. She turned and began walking toward the open doors. Erika had no choice but to follow.
The interior of the Abbey was even more austere than the exterior. High ceilings stretched overhead, the wooden beams dark with age. Stained glass windows lined the walls, their colors muted in the dim lighting. The air smelled of old wood, wax, and something faintly herbal.
Mathilda led her down a corridor where every step seemed to echo endlessly. As they walked, their shadows stretched long and thin on the stone floor, distorted by the flickering candle sconces.
“This will be your home until you come of age,” Mathilda said, glancing back at Erika. “Here, you will learn discipline, strength, and, most importantly, the wisdom of your ancestors. We are a sisterhood that values order and knowledge above all else. Do you understand?”
Erika nodded mutely, though her mind reeled.
They stopped in front of a heavy wooden door reinforced with iron hinges. Mathilda opened it, revealing a small room with a narrow bed, a simple wooden desk, and a single window that looked out into the impenetrable darkness. A threadbare rug covered the stone floor, and a wardrobe stood against the far wall.
“This is your cell,” Mathilda said, stepping aside to let Erika enter. “You may find it spartan, but simplicity is a virtue we uphold here.”
Erika stepped inside, her arms wrapping around herself. The room felt cold and foreign, a stark contrast to her cozy bedroom back home. She turned to Mathilda, her voice trembling. “Why am I here? Why can’t I just go home?”
Mathilda’s face softened just enough to show a flicker of compassion. “Child, you have been sent here for your safety. The world is not just to those of our kind. Here, you will be protected.”
“Our kind?” Erika’s brows knit together.
Mathilda’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t answer directly. Instead, she placed a hand on Erika’s shoulder. “Rest now. Tomorrow, we will begin. The Daughters of Athena do not dwell on the past. We prepare for the future.”
Without another word, Mathilda withdrew, closing the door behind her with a quiet thud. Erika stood frozen for a moment, staring at the closed door before sinking onto the bed. Her mind buzzed with questions, but the weight of exhaustion settled over her.
Outside her window, the wind howled, rattling the glass. The Abbey felt like a fortress, and for the first time in her life, Erika realized she was truly alone.
Gone. They’re gone.
The grief was all-consuming, a tidal wave that swallowed her whole. But deep beneath the surface, a single question burned. Why?
She didn’t know it yet, but that question would come to define her life. One day, she would uncover the truth behind the tragedy—and the truth about who she was.
Six years later.The morning sun spilled through the stained-glass windows of the Abbey’s dining hall, painting the long wooden tables with soft hues of amber, crimson, and jade. Erika sat at the corner table with Ursula, her only true friend in this secluded sanctuary. The faint aroma of baked bread and chamomile tea lingered in the air, though Erika had barely touched her plate.Ursula grinned, leaning forward on her elbows. Her auburn hair caught the morning light like fire. “So, today’s the big day. Off to your grand adventure, Lady Luna-to-be.” Her voice was playful, but her hazel eyes betrayed a hint of sadness.Erika stirred her tea absentmindedly. “I wouldn’t call it an adventure,” she murmured, glancing at her reflection in the steaming liquid. “I don’t even know this Diego person. What if he’s…” She hesitated, trying to find the right word.“A monster?” Ursula teased, though her smile faltered. “Relax, Erika. He’s an Alpha, not a troll. I bet he’s tall, dark, brooding—just l
The grand entrance to the mansion loomed before Erika as two servants pulled open the towering oak doors. The foyer was immense, with marble floors polished to a mirror-like gleam, gilded railings that spiraled upward to a grand staircase, and chandeliers dripping with crystals that caught and refracted the flickering light of candles. It was breathtakingly beautiful, but Erika couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d stepped into a cage, no matter how opulent its bars.Hugo ushered her forward with a gesture, his usual stoicism intact. “This way,” he said, his voice reverberating off the high ceilings. Erika clutched her bag tightly as they passed through halls adorned with oil paintings of Lycans in regal poses, their golden eyes seeming to follow her.At the end of the hallway, double doors opened to a study bathed in warm, golden light. A tall figure stood by the fireplace, his back to her. He wore a dark suit tailored to perfection, and his posture was rigid, exuding power.“Alpha,
The garden was unrecognizable beneath the silvery gaze of the full Hunter’s Moon. Once vibrant flowers now drooped and curled as though wilting under the weight of Erika’s apprehension. Clouds rolled sluggishly across the sky, dimming the moonlight. Rows of darkly clad Lycans gathered, their golden eyes gleaming like embers in the shadows. The air was thick with expectation, and Erika’s skin prickled with an uneasy awareness of every gaze trained on her.She shivered, though the night wasn’t cold. She stood in the center of the garden, her delicate gown billowing faintly in the breeze.Diego stood beside her, his presence as imposing as ever. His suit was sharp, his movements effortless, but there was a detachment in his posture, a distance that Erika couldn’t ignore.The officiator, a wiry man with a voice like gravel, began the ritual. Erika’s fingers trembled as Diego’s hand closed over hers, cold and firm, for the handfasting. His grip was perfunctory, devoid of affection, as thou
The golden light of dawn filtered through the heavy brocade curtains of Erika’s chambers, bathing the room in warmth that felt at odds with her aching body and unsettled mind. She stirred, her eyes fluttering open as she shifted under the weight of the silken duvet. Her shoulder throbbed where Diego’s mark lay, a constant reminder of last night’s ceremony—unfinished, hollow, and far from what she had dreamed.A soft knock broke her thoughts. The door creaked open, and a young woman in a neatly pressed gray uniform stepped inside. Her hair was pulled back in a tight braid, and she carried an air of quiet efficiency."Good morning, Luna," the maid said, bowing her head. "I am Astrid, your personal chambermaid. I’ve been instructed to assist you as you begin your duties here."Erika pushed herself up slowly, the motion stiffening her sore muscles. “Thank you, Astrid. It’s… nice to meet you.” She offered a faint smile, hoping to find some companionship in the rigid structure of her new li
Erika stepped into the sprawling hallway beyond the sunroom, Dunia’s parting words still ringing in her ears: “A Luna’s strength comes not from bending, but from knowing when to stand tall.” She inhaled deeply, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her. This place—this gilded cage—was now her home, and she needed to know every inch of it.The mansion was a labyrinth of cold marble and ornate woodwork. Sunlight filtered through stained-glass windows, casting fleeting patterns of color on the floor. Crystal chandeliers hung like frozen waterfalls from high ceilings, their brilliance unable to warm the air of the Di Rocco estate. The silence was palpable, broken only by the occasional sound of distant footsteps or the faint rustle of fabric as servants moved about.Erika’s sandals echoed softly as she walked through one hallway after another, marveling at the grandeur while feeling a creeping sense of unease. Doors lined the corridors, many of them locked. One in par
The faint hum of a hairdryer filled the lavish dressing room as Erika sat before the mirror, her reflection a picture of serenity that belied the flutter of nerves beneath her composed exterior. The hairdresser worked deftly, sweeping her dark locks into an elegant updo accented with delicate silver pins shaped like crescent moons. Dunia stood behind her, hands clasped in front of her, her sharp eyes appraising every detail.“You must stand beside your alpha at all times,” Dunia said, her voice calm but firm. “When he walks, follow two paces behind. It’s the standard.” She leaned closer, her gaze meeting Erika’s in the mirror. “I trust Mathilda drilled this into you, but I don’t take chances.”“Yes, Mother Luna. I’ll remember.” Erika smiled faintly.“You’ll do more than remember,” Dunia corrected with a sly arch of her brow. “You’ll embody it. Grace, composure, and elegance at all times. They’ll be watching for cracks, my dear. Don’t give them any.”Erika inclined her head. “I shall b
The grand doors of the mansion shut behind them with a soft thud, muffling the distant sounds of the city. Diego strode ahead, shrugging off his coat with a swift motion and handing it to Hugo without sparing a glance at Erika.“Prepare my bath,” Diego instructed curtly, his voice low but firm. A faint sheen of sweat glistened on his brow, and he tugged at the collar of his shirt as though the air itself were too thick.He turned halfway, his eyes briefly flicking in Erika’s direction—but not to meet her gaze. “Have a good night, Luna,” he said in a tone that carried no warmth. Before she could respond, he was already heading toward the hallway leading to his chambers, his long strides echoing against the polished floors.Erika stood motionless for a moment, watching his retreating back. Her chest ached, but she forced herself to breathe evenly. It’s nothing new, she told herself. He’s always like this. Detached. Indifferent.Hugo turned to her with a polite bow. “Shall I escort you t
A week had passed since the event at the Arcadium, and the moon had waned to a faint silver crescent. Erika mostly stayed confined to her chambers, seeking solace in the volumes she borrowed from the library. Her days were spent studying centuries of Di Rocco family history, a tapestry woven with tales of power, tragedy, and triumph. The faces from the portraits lining the mansion’s walls were no longer strangers. She now knew them as the alphas and lunas who had built the stronghold Diego ruled today.This morning, Erika’s fingers trailed the edges of a journal detailing the untimely death of Alpha Giorgio, Diego’s father. Giorgio had perished alongside his pack during a leisure hunt in the Gray Mountains. Official reports attributed the deaths to a freak encounter with wild boars, but whispers in the journal hinted at something far graver—a rogue ambush. The tragedy had shaken Valentia and devastated the Di Rocco clan, leaving a thirteen-year-old Diego to inherit the mantle of alpha
The fire in the war chamber burned low, sending wavering shadows across the stone walls. The air was thick with the scent of burning wood and tension—heavier than the iron weapons stacked against the far wall. Malrik stood at the head of the war table, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Diego lingered nearby, silent but alert.Erika didn’t hesitate. “This plan to assassinate the King—it won’t give us the future we perceived. It’ll only play into Bor Khulan’s hands, with no peace in between.”Malrik’s golden eyes narrowed. “Care to elucidate?”Erika stepped forward, bracing her palms against the rough wood of the table. “You think Bor Khulan cares about your cause? Your people? He doesn’t. He’s using all of us—me, you, Diego—to carve his way to the throne.” She looked directly at Malrik, her voice steady. “When this war is over, he’ll be the onl
The wind was restless that night. Although the pack and everyone they’d rescued from the cage were brought to safety, the air carried whispers of danger as they waited in the abandoned ruins beyond Blackthorn. The mood was thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension, but none of them broke the silence.Hugo and Gabriel took turns watching the horizon for movement. Erika sat calmly beside Malrik while he casually twirled a dagger between his fingers.Bor Khulan would come.Or he wouldn’t.Either way, Diego was prepared for the worst.His fingers twitched at his side, itching to grab his weapon. Everything about this felt like a setup. He didn’t trust Malrik, and he sure as hell didn’t trust the man they were waiting for.Bor Khulan—the rebellion’s supposed benefactor, the one pulling strings in the shadows. Diego had only heard of him through whispers, t
The air in Blackthorn's interrogation hall crackled with tension as the guards closed in. Twelve of them. Armed. Ready.Diego barely had time to think. No escape. No talking their way out of this.This was a fight.The first guard lunged—Malrik met him halfway.The man barely had time to react before Malrik’s fist caved into his chestplate, sending him crashing into the wall like a ragdoll.Then the battle erupted.A guard swung at Diego—he dodged, twisting his body before driving an elbow into the man’s ribs. The soldier grunted, stumbling back. Diego didn’t give him a second chance. He grabbed the man’s wrist, twisted it sharply, and stole his sword in one smooth motion.Steel flashed. Blood splattered.Across the hall, Erika had already taken down two guards. Fast. Precise. Ruthless. She flipped over one opponent, drove her dagger into his shoulder, then kicked him hard in the chest—
The air inside Blackthorn Prison was thick with damp stone and the stench of unwashed bodies. The moment Diego stepped through the narrow crack in the outer wall, he felt the shift—a weight pressing down on him, as if the walls themselves knew they didn’t belong.They crouched in the shadows of an abandoned storage chamber, hidden behind rusted crates and barrels that stank of rot. Faint torchlight flickered beyond the barred doorway, casting jagged shadows along the stone floor.Malrik adjusted the dagger at his hip, his lips curled in satisfaction. “Haven’t been in Blackthorn in years. Brings back memories.”Erika shot him a glare. “We’re not here for nostalgia.”Diego ignored them both, scanning the chamber. No guards. No movement. But something felt off.Too easy.Gabriel knelt beside him, whispering, “We need to move. The prison shifts its watch every three hours—we have a smal
The sun dipped below the jagged peaks of Devil’s Horn, swallowing the settlement in the shadows of dusk. The air grew cooler, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. The fires in the village flickered like distant stars, but the heart of the rebellion was far from resting.They were preparing for war.Diego stood near the edge of the settlement, fastening the last of his weapons onto his belt. The weight of the blades felt familiar, grounding. Behind him, Hugo checked the straps on his gear while Gabriel whispered a quiet incantation over a set of vials—protective spells, no doubt. Nearby, Malrik and his warriors were gearing up, their presence a silent reminder that this mission was no simple infiltration.It was a message.Erika approached, her movements swift and sure as she secured a dagger to her thigh. The moonlight caught the edges of her hair, making her seem ethereal—untouchable. She barely glanced at Diego before addressing
The war chamber felt heavier than it should, the air thick with tension and unspoken emotions. A single oil lamp cast flickering shadows over the grand oak table, illuminating the tattered map of Blackthorn Prison. Red ink scrawled across it in deliberate lines, marking guard rotations, weak points, and underground passages that could either be a way in—or a death trap.Malrik stood at the head of the table, fingers tapping against the rough parchment. “The prison is fortified on all sides. Outer walls are reinforced with silver-laced stone. Guards at every post. Patrols change every three hours. If your pack is there, they’ll be in the lower levels—where the High Council keeps high-risk prisoners.”Diego’s eyes traced the map, heart pounding at the thought of his people locked away in those cells, at the mercy of their enemies. “So, what’s the plan?”Malrik gave a tight smile. “We get in. We get your p
The heavy wooden doors of the dining chamber shut with a resounding thud as the guards took their positions outside. Diego shifted in his seat, his instincts prickling with unease.Malrik leaned back in his chair, his fingers laced together in a way that exuded both confidence and control. His piercing gaze flickered over Diego, Gabriel, and Hugo before finally settling on Diego with a knowing smirk.“You want an alliance,” Malrik said smoothly. “Very well. But alliances are built on trust. And trust… must be earned.”Diego’s jaw tightened. “Go on.”Malrik’s smirk deepened. He stood, walking leisurely to the map spread out on the far table. It was littered with markings—territories controlled by The Board, known strongholds, weak points. Diego’s eyes immediately locked onto a region circled in red.“Blackthorn Prison,” Malrik said, tapping a finger against the map. &ldqu
The scent of roasted meat and spiced tea filled the dining chamber, but Diego barely noticed it. His gaze was fixed on Erika. She looked healthy, her dark hair gleaming in the firelight, her posture at ease as she sliced into a piece of bread. No chains, no signs of distress.And beside her—his mother.Dunia met his eyes with a calm, unreadable expression. She took a slow sip from her tea, as if she were at a leisurely brunch rather than in the stronghold of their supposed enemy.Diego’s hands clenched into fists. What the hell was going on?Malrik gestured toward the long wooden table. “Sit, Diego. Eat. We have much to discuss.”Diego barely heard him. His entire world had narrowed to Erika, sitting there as though she belonged.“You’re safe,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended.Erika finally looked up at him, her gaze level. “I told you before—I can take care of myself.
The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine, the sound of rustling leaves a constant reminder that they were deep in enemy territory. Diego led the way through the dense forest, his keen senses on high alert. Gabriel followed closely, his footsteps unnervingly light for a man who had spent most of his life buried in books. Hugo, on the other hand, grumbled under his breath as he trudged behind them, his broad frame less suited for the stealth required of this mission.They had been traveling for hours, weaving through the shadowed terrain of the valley that curved toward Devil’s Horn. Despite their caution, Diego couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. He signaled for a stop and scanned the forest. The trees stood still in the absence of wind, yet something felt off.Gabriel stepped up beside him, voice low. “You sense it too?”Diego gave a terse nod. “We’re not alone.”Hugo exhaled sh