Henry***The sky bled fireâcrimson tendrils streaking across the heavens like the last breath of a dying god. Smoke coiled in black spirals, choking out the stars, and in the glow of that apocalyptic dawn, the world trembled. Buildings burned like paper. Trees split open, screaming with sap and flame. It was as if the sky itself had turned traitorâspilling fury upon a land already drowning in sorrow.Ash rained from the heavens as screams tore through the nightâraw, primal, unrelenting. The ground cracked with each tremor of advancing doom, and the air itself seemed to shriek with terror. Human and wolf alike fell, their bodies twisted in agony as cities crumbled into infernos. Roads split open, swallowing vehicles and warriors whole. The Veil had been ripped open, a gaping, bleeding scar across reality, and through its ancient wound, the Firstborn surged like a plague of nightmaresâfangs bared, eyes soulless, their very presence unraveling the laws of nature. They were not just killi
Henry***The battlefield had fallen silentânot from peace, but from anticipation. The air hung heavy with ash and tension, as though the world itself held its breath. All eyes had turned to Cael. All ears strained to hear what none of us wanted to believe.âTo awaken the blade,â he said again, his voice quiet and unshaking, âa life must be given.âA sacrifice.The weight of those words echoed louder than any scream, more final than any death.âNo,â Xavier whispered beside me, his grip on my wrist tightening. âNo, weâll find another way.âCael didnât answer him. He looked only at me.Because he knew.Because I knew.I stepped forward slowly, as if wading through grief itself. My heart thundered with dread, but somewhere deep inside, I already understood. From the moment the Veil tore. From the moment Dean became something else. From the first howl of the Firstborn. This was never going to end with a battle. It would end with a choice.My choice.Xavier stepped in front of me, his eyes
Henry****I was the Blade now.But in the final heartbeat before I vanishedâĶ I remembered Xavierâs laugh, like sunlight in winter. The warmth of his hand as it slipped into mine. The way he once whispered, "Promise me youâll always come back," his breath trembling against my ear.Then it was goneâripped away, drowned beneath the bloodlust and fire, as the killer I had become opened his eyes for the first time.Power. Endless, unyielding, pure.The moment the blade accepted me, it didn't just burnâI combusted. Power surged through my veins like volcanic fire, ripping my body apart only to reforge it in shadow and flame. My bones snapped and reformed. My skin cracked like porcelain before sealing again, tougher, darker. I screamed, or maybe the world did.When I stood, it was with a predator's stillness and a god's fury.I was not Henry anymore. I was the Blade incarnate.And I wanted blood.The sky shattered above me. Shadows fled before the storm I had become.Bound wolves leapt.I to
Xavier***The battlefield was a graveyard of shattered hope, where the screams of the fallen still echoed in the hollow silence, clinging to the ashes like ghosts that refused to leave. Bound wolves lay scattered like broken dolls, Firstborns reduced to ash, and the innocentâcharred, unrecognizableâwere caught in the path of Henry, now a vessel for Cael's wrath.Smoke curled like serpents through the blood-soaked ruins, clinging to the bones of the fallen.And at the center of it allâhe stood.Henry.But not the Henry I knew.He shifted into his wolf formâa radiant monster bathed in ruin and sorrow.Golden fur shimmered beneath the ash, glinting like dying sunlight on a battlefield soaked in grief. His frame toweredâregal, magnificent, but grotesquely wrong, like a statue of a hero twisted by pain.Power clung to himânot his own, but an ancient poison, corrupted and stolen from the Blade. It pulsed through him like a second heartbeatâmerciless and cold.His eyes were wrong.No longer
***Henry**** The weight of the laundry in my arms was nothing compared to the weight of being unwanted in my own home.âWhere do you think you are going?â A voice is behind me as I walk through the living room of the pack house with the load of laundry in my arms. My step stopped as I knew the danger of being caught snooping around where I wasnât supposed to be. The voice belonged to the pack warrior, Cody, who had a stern expression on his face. I quickly stuttered out an excuse about looking for the laundry room before making a hasty retreat. âStop right where you are,â Cody, one of the pack warriors, said, putting his hand on my hip as he pointed his finger at me. âHenry.â A smile formed on Codyâs lips as he pushed my body to the ground, making the load of laundry fall to the ground with a loud thud. âWhat are you doing?â I shouted, trying to stand up, but Codyâs boot slammed into my ribs, and a sharp pain splintered through my body. Laughter rippled around me, drowning out my ga
***Henry**** A sharp sting shot through my leg as I tried to stand. I bit my lip, swallowing a groan. Falling back down wasnât an optionânot if I wanted to eat tonight. I wish I could just lie down and rest and not have to do anything else for the rest of the day. The throbbing ache in my leg was a constant reminder of the pain and abuse that had happened to me earlier. A cough broke from my mouth as I leaned to pick up the dirty laundry from the ground that Cody and his friend had crushed under their boots. I winced as I straightened up, the weight of the laundry causing a sharp pain to shoot through my ribs. I knew I had to finish this chore or I might not get any dinner tonight. The thought of a warm meal waiting for me was the only thing keeping me going as I pushed through the pain and exhaustion. I somehow managed to go to the laundry room and put the clothes in the washer before collapsing onto the couch. My body is aching, and my mind is foggy, but at least the laundry is
****Xavier***** I stood in front of the mirror, brushing my hair, feeling the weight of five long years pressing down on me. âDid you find the culprit behind the incident?â I asked, my voice steady but with an edge of impatience.Dean, my Beta, hesitated, his eyes dark with concern. âNo, not yet.ââFive years, Dean. We still have no leads,â I muttered, frustration creeping into my tone. My jaw clenched, and my fists tightened instinctively. I didnât want to let go of the past, no matter how much it haunted me.He placed a hand on my shoulder. âMaybe itâs time to let go and focus on the present,â he suggested, his voice soft but firm.I spun toward him, my gaze fierce. âI will never let go of it. Not until I find out whoâs responsible for what happened,â I said, feeling the fire rise within me once more. I closed my fist, turning my head towards Dean, my eyes filled with determination. âI will rest until I catch the one responsible for what happened,â I declared, feeling a renewed sen
***Henry****A new day, a new beginning. I thought of pushing myself out of bed even if I didnât want to. My body is still aching from the abuse from last night, and the lack of food only increases my fatigue. But I know that I have to get up and do my work or I might get punched yet again, and I donât think my body is strong enough to handle any more abuse. So, I take a deep breath, muster up my strength, and slowly start my day, hoping for a better tomorrow.I took a cold bath in the common bathroom that is shared by the entire floor, feeling the chill seep into my bones; it was so cold that I could barely feel my fingers. I wish I could have warm water for a change, but that luxury is far out of reach for me. Despite the discomfort, I remind myself that this is just a temporary situation and I must stay strong.I made my room, changing and wearing the same clothes that I had been wearing for days now, but I didnât have any other options at the moment. As I look around my small, dim
Xavier***The battlefield was a graveyard of shattered hope, where the screams of the fallen still echoed in the hollow silence, clinging to the ashes like ghosts that refused to leave. Bound wolves lay scattered like broken dolls, Firstborns reduced to ash, and the innocentâcharred, unrecognizableâwere caught in the path of Henry, now a vessel for Cael's wrath.Smoke curled like serpents through the blood-soaked ruins, clinging to the bones of the fallen.And at the center of it allâhe stood.Henry.But not the Henry I knew.He shifted into his wolf formâa radiant monster bathed in ruin and sorrow.Golden fur shimmered beneath the ash, glinting like dying sunlight on a battlefield soaked in grief. His frame toweredâregal, magnificent, but grotesquely wrong, like a statue of a hero twisted by pain.Power clung to himânot his own, but an ancient poison, corrupted and stolen from the Blade. It pulsed through him like a second heartbeatâmerciless and cold.His eyes were wrong.No longer
Henry****I was the Blade now.But in the final heartbeat before I vanishedâĶ I remembered Xavierâs laugh, like sunlight in winter. The warmth of his hand as it slipped into mine. The way he once whispered, "Promise me youâll always come back," his breath trembling against my ear.Then it was goneâripped away, drowned beneath the bloodlust and fire, as the killer I had become opened his eyes for the first time.Power. Endless, unyielding, pure.The moment the blade accepted me, it didn't just burnâI combusted. Power surged through my veins like volcanic fire, ripping my body apart only to reforge it in shadow and flame. My bones snapped and reformed. My skin cracked like porcelain before sealing again, tougher, darker. I screamed, or maybe the world did.When I stood, it was with a predator's stillness and a god's fury.I was not Henry anymore. I was the Blade incarnate.And I wanted blood.The sky shattered above me. Shadows fled before the storm I had become.Bound wolves leapt.I to
Henry***The battlefield had fallen silentânot from peace, but from anticipation. The air hung heavy with ash and tension, as though the world itself held its breath. All eyes had turned to Cael. All ears strained to hear what none of us wanted to believe.âTo awaken the blade,â he said again, his voice quiet and unshaking, âa life must be given.âA sacrifice.The weight of those words echoed louder than any scream, more final than any death.âNo,â Xavier whispered beside me, his grip on my wrist tightening. âNo, weâll find another way.âCael didnât answer him. He looked only at me.Because he knew.Because I knew.I stepped forward slowly, as if wading through grief itself. My heart thundered with dread, but somewhere deep inside, I already understood. From the moment the Veil tore. From the moment Dean became something else. From the first howl of the Firstborn. This was never going to end with a battle. It would end with a choice.My choice.Xavier stepped in front of me, his eyes
Henry***The sky bled fireâcrimson tendrils streaking across the heavens like the last breath of a dying god. Smoke coiled in black spirals, choking out the stars, and in the glow of that apocalyptic dawn, the world trembled. Buildings burned like paper. Trees split open, screaming with sap and flame. It was as if the sky itself had turned traitorâspilling fury upon a land already drowning in sorrow.Ash rained from the heavens as screams tore through the nightâraw, primal, unrelenting. The ground cracked with each tremor of advancing doom, and the air itself seemed to shriek with terror. Human and wolf alike fell, their bodies twisted in agony as cities crumbled into infernos. Roads split open, swallowing vehicles and warriors whole. The Veil had been ripped open, a gaping, bleeding scar across reality, and through its ancient wound, the Firstborn surged like a plague of nightmaresâfangs bared, eyes soulless, their very presence unraveling the laws of nature. They were not just killi
An ancient howl splits the veil between worlds. As forgotten monsters rise, Xavier and Henry must chooseâsubmit to destinyâĶ or tear it apart together.Xavier*****The earth trembled beneath my feet, a slow, aching quakeâas if the ground itself mourned what the sky had just revealed. I could feel itâdeep in my bonesâthat something ancient had been awakened, something far beyond even Cael.I turned to Henry, still clutching his hand.âWe need to move,â I said, though my voice was hoarse and dry. Like Iâd swallowed centuries of dust and dread.Henryâs gaze stayed fixed on the place where Dean had stood, now swallowed by shadow.âTheyâre not waiting. The Firstbornsâthey're already moving.âThe air shifted. The woods whispered.And thenâA howl.Low. Deep. Endless.It wasnât Cael.It wasnât Dean.It wasnât any wolf I knew.My breath hitched. âDid you hear that?âFionaâs face went pale. âThat wasâĶ one of the Bound.ââThe what?â I asked, but she was already staggering back, gripping Diegoâs
Xavier ****A wind colder than winter sliced through the trees, carrying with it the scent of ancient soilâĶ and blood too old to name. Every wolf instinct in me screamedâRun. But my feet refused to move. The earth trembled beneath usâalive, awareâĶ listening.And then, from the darkness between the trees, he emerged.Massive. Not just in sizeâbut in presence. The very air bent around him.Cael.He wasnât like any wolf Iâd ever seenânot even in the oldest memory-visions whispered by the elders. His fur shimmered with obsidian and silver, like lightning trapped in shadow. And his eyesâĶ God, his eyes. burned gold. Not the kind of gold that promised warmth or hopeâno. They were molten. Merciless. Like a dying sun collapsing in on itself.Time held its breath.The wind blew.Even the trees leaned away from him, as though nature itself remembered the monster it once entombed.Henry moved firstâjust a step. No flinch. No fear. Just a steady gaze. And in that gazeâĶ something unexpected
Xavier***The howl still echoed through the trees, not just a sound but a memory clawing its way through time. It wasnât the cry of a beastâit was grief made sound, ancient and unforgiving. It reverberated through the trunks, rattling leaves like whispered names of the dead. It was deeper, older, as if the very bones of the earth were mourning something long lost and half-remembered.Henry stood rigid in front of me, his shoulders squared against the wind as though bracing for a blow he could not see. The air howled around him, clawing at his clothes like phantom fingers desperate to tear away his resolve. Behind him, Fiona remained utterly stillâa ghost made of defiance and sorrow. Her white cloak snapped like a banner in revolt, and her silver hair, once regal and composed, now clung wet and wild to her face, streaked with the first mournful tears of the sky.âThe Firstborn?â I repeated, my voice hoarse.Fiona nodded once, her expression unreadable.Henry took a step forward. âTell
Xavier****The sky had begun to churn, a swirling mass of gray clouds that mirrored the unease tightening its grip on my chest. Each gust of wind that rattled through the trees carried the scent of storm and blood, like nature itself was bracing for a war it could not escape. The forest didn't whisper anymoreâit groaned, creaked, and cried out in a language older than words, a warning etched into bark and bone.I walked beside Henry, our strides matched, yet his silence felt heavier than the air thick with impending rain. The fire that once danced in his eyes had dulled into a bladeâsharp, steady, honed for battle. Not the wild flame of fury, but the cold precision of a man who knew exactly what it would cost to winâand was already paying.The storm wasnât just above us. It was within us. And it had already begun to break.We were heading toward the eastern watch, where scouts had reported movementâdark wolves slipping between borders like whispers in the fog, testing our defenses wit
Xavier***The weight of the night pressed against my shoulders as we moved with urgent purpose, each step echoing with the burden of what lay ahead. Henry walked beside me, his presence a steady, unshakable force, but even he could not mask the tension thrumming beneath his skin. The gravity of our mission settled in the air like a storm on the horizon, thick with unspoken fears and unrelenting determination. Diego was already making calls, his voice sharp and commanding, every word laced with urgency as he reached out to the scattered packs, summoning them to arms. Each call was a plea, a demand, a warningâan unbreakable thread pulling together the fragile unity of our kind before it was too late.Every second mattered. Each breath was a countdown, a heartbeat closer to the abyss of war, where hesitation meant death and unity was our only salvation.âWe need to rally them fast,â Henry murmured, his voice edged with urgency. His jaw was tight, his golden eyes flickering with an intens