Rhys' POV.. After Tito left, the palace appeared colder and darker. The image of his damaged eyes stayed with me, along with the pain in his words. The suffering and treachery felt like a vice surrounding me.Lost in my thoughts, my mind whirling from the events of the evening, I wandered the poorly lit halls. Tito's face flashed in my head as I rounded a bend, the way he had stared at me with incredulity and grief. My heart hammered, guilt and rage seething inside me.I had to clear my thoughts and find some sort of control amidst the turmoil I had caused. Then I heard a freezing noise, soft and muted like the scrape of a sword against stone. I whirled around, instincts driving me forward. At the end of the hall, I caught sight of Tito's shadow.Panic tore through me. Could he have come back? Was this some kind of sick joke? I grabbed the sharp knife I always carried at hand in a flash of pure panic and desperation. As I approached the shadow, my breath came quick and jagged. I rais
The only sound accompanying me as I strolled across the Bluemoon pack's home was the echo of my feet on the chilly marble flooring. The seniors had called me, and every step seemed weightier than the next. I knew they were unhappy with me; their annoyance had been growing. My attempts to get Felza back and my recent behaviour had not only stoked their mistrust but also spawned rumours about my possible overthrow. The meeting room was tight, a far cry from the normal friendliness I knew in my own pack. Seated in a semicircle, the elderly had austere, uncompromising looks. Their keen, penetrating looks followed me as I came in. "Rhys," Elder Noran remarked, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to weigh many millennia. "You have been called here because of mounting questions about your leadership and recent behaviour." Breathing deeply, I tried to calm my nerves. "I understand," my voice calm. "I am doing everything I can to correct mistakes I know I have made." Often the most vocifer
Gloria POV. After the roasting had subsided, and the air was eerily silent. Glancing at Rhys, who stood motionless, his face set in hard lines, my heart was thumping. Something about that sound had unnerved him, even though he was typically powerful and in charge. His eyes narrowed as if they were attempting to break through the darkness outside, and his jaw tightened—I could see it. I shifted nervously, feeling as though everything was bearing down on me. Already, the impending battle with Marcus loomed large over us, a confrontation that might turn everything around. And suddenly there was this weird, unnerving sound, like a dreadful omen. Rhys looked at Damien and Eric, who were also tense. With a strong and low voice, he stated, "We need to figure out what that was." "We can't afford to ignore it if it's related to Marcus." They nodded, but I felt a wave of panic come over me as they started to depart. Rhys needed to be distracted, so I had to keep him close. I couldn't allow a
Rhys POV. I was pacing my quarters, mulling about everything. Based on Elder Davis's tenacity in trying to call off the war, I felt the seniors were organising something. He had never been one to back down from a disagreement, hence his sudden change of heart unnerved me. The man was hiding something, hence I was not going to ignore that. Elder Davis lost my trust, and that was a mistake on his behalf. You couldn afford to start to lose faith in my surroundings. Stopped pacing, I looked out the window with hands balled into fists. The pack's future was in jeopardy, and I couldn't let anyone discredit all I had laboriously gone to accomplish—not even Davis. One heard a door knock. I yelled out, staring towards the dark forest that surrounded our house. " Come in." Eric came in and softly closed the door behind him. " You wanted to see me, Rhys?" I turned to face him, a sharp grimace on my lips. "Davis is currently a major problem." Eric arched an eyebrow and stepped forward. "I fe
Rhys’ POV. Quietly and peacefully, I stood in my quarters and looked out over the pack's territory; the night air was heavy with anxiety. The moon was low in the sky, giving the surroundings a spooky glow. I was aware that the choices I had made today would affect our pack's destinyThere was no room for failure as the enemies to our pack was closer now more than ever. Cench and Pamel had jumped right into their task. They started their preparations a few hours after our encounter. They were the ideal leaders I required because of their silent strength; they would protect our pack and neutralise any dangers before they could get to our door. Eric had informed me of their developments. I was informed of every action they took and every new hire they brought on board. Word quickly got out among the wolves that a new assassination gang dedicated just to me and our cause was emerging. Whispers, anxiety, and anticipation filled the group. By morning on the second day, Cench and Pamel h
Eric’s POV. some of the things that had transpired between Rhys and the Elders had leaked and some of the people of the clan where beginning to discuss the issue as trivialities. This made me feel pissed and spiteful as I couldn’t stand having my masters name and repute discussed by commoners as mere trivialities. As I stood close to the main hall door, attempting to interpret the increasing discomfort among the pack, I heard Marcus's haughty and conceited voice. I froze, listening to him spew hateful comments in a tone full of derision and contempt. "Rhys is nothing but a coward!" Marcus bellowed, his voice like a blade piercing the darkness. “Too feeble, too brittle to confront me. Being aware of his incapacity to face a genuine challenge, he retreats behind his ostensibly 'loyal' supporters.” Marcus spat. “ Not to mention his two tiny "hoes," Gloria and Felza. He's only useful for having them by his side to stroke his wounded pride." Marcus went on to trash Rhys until my blood
Eric’s POV. When we got to Rhys location, we explained all that we where encountering and he decides on our next course of actions. It seemed Rhys had fought a thousand wars from the confidence he portrays and emotionlessness on his face. Tension permeated the air as we headed under darkness towards Marcus's estate. While the other three assassins—Keno, Brant, and Saul—trailed behind, their motions quiet but lethal, Pamel strolled next to me, his eyes sharp and concentrated. The scheme was straightforward but brutal: attack Marcus's family to leave an indelible scar he would never forget. But I felt the weight of what we were going to do more the closer we got. We arrived at the outside edge and slid past the security with trained simplicity. Though Marcus had a sizable estate, we knew just where to go for our targets. Nestled at the rear and encircled by huge, gnarled trees creating lengthy shadows in the dark, was the house his mother and sister inhabited. Just before we arrive
Eric’s POV. The following morning after the incident felt eerily serene, the sort of serenity that caused the hairs on my rear of the neck to rise up. Though the sun was just starting to rise and the castle grounds was covered in a faint glow, the coolness in the air was obvious. I hadn't slept a wink; my thoughts kept repeating the events of the previous evening. It tormented me the sound of broken bones and the sight of blood gathering on the floor. I heard the disturbance while in the courtyard attempting to clear my brain. Near the castle gates, a small gathering had assembled; their whispers got louder every second. I initially couldn't understand what they were saying, but then I heard it—a name whispered among them, a word that made my blood stop. Good. My heart thumping in my chest, I shoved my way through the throng. She was doing what exactly here? She was with Marcus, so I knew, but to show up like this thus shortly following the attack? It lacked logic. When I got to
Eric’s POV. The following morning after the incident felt eerily serene, the sort of serenity that caused the hairs on my rear of the neck to rise up. Though the sun was just starting to rise and the castle grounds was covered in a faint glow, the coolness in the air was obvious. I hadn't slept a wink; my thoughts kept repeating the events of the previous evening. It tormented me the sound of broken bones and the sight of blood gathering on the floor. I heard the disturbance while in the courtyard attempting to clear my brain. Near the castle gates, a small gathering had assembled; their whispers got louder every second. I initially couldn't understand what they were saying, but then I heard it—a name whispered among them, a word that made my blood stop. Good. My heart thumping in my chest, I shoved my way through the throng. She was doing what exactly here? She was with Marcus, so I knew, but to show up like this thus shortly following the attack? It lacked logic. When I got to
Eric’s POV. When we got to Rhys location, we explained all that we where encountering and he decides on our next course of actions. It seemed Rhys had fought a thousand wars from the confidence he portrays and emotionlessness on his face. Tension permeated the air as we headed under darkness towards Marcus's estate. While the other three assassins—Keno, Brant, and Saul—trailed behind, their motions quiet but lethal, Pamel strolled next to me, his eyes sharp and concentrated. The scheme was straightforward but brutal: attack Marcus's family to leave an indelible scar he would never forget. But I felt the weight of what we were going to do more the closer we got. We arrived at the outside edge and slid past the security with trained simplicity. Though Marcus had a sizable estate, we knew just where to go for our targets. Nestled at the rear and encircled by huge, gnarled trees creating lengthy shadows in the dark, was the house his mother and sister inhabited. Just before we arrive
Eric’s POV. some of the things that had transpired between Rhys and the Elders had leaked and some of the people of the clan where beginning to discuss the issue as trivialities. This made me feel pissed and spiteful as I couldn’t stand having my masters name and repute discussed by commoners as mere trivialities. As I stood close to the main hall door, attempting to interpret the increasing discomfort among the pack, I heard Marcus's haughty and conceited voice. I froze, listening to him spew hateful comments in a tone full of derision and contempt. "Rhys is nothing but a coward!" Marcus bellowed, his voice like a blade piercing the darkness. “Too feeble, too brittle to confront me. Being aware of his incapacity to face a genuine challenge, he retreats behind his ostensibly 'loyal' supporters.” Marcus spat. “ Not to mention his two tiny "hoes," Gloria and Felza. He's only useful for having them by his side to stroke his wounded pride." Marcus went on to trash Rhys until my blood
Rhys’ POV. Quietly and peacefully, I stood in my quarters and looked out over the pack's territory; the night air was heavy with anxiety. The moon was low in the sky, giving the surroundings a spooky glow. I was aware that the choices I had made today would affect our pack's destinyThere was no room for failure as the enemies to our pack was closer now more than ever. Cench and Pamel had jumped right into their task. They started their preparations a few hours after our encounter. They were the ideal leaders I required because of their silent strength; they would protect our pack and neutralise any dangers before they could get to our door. Eric had informed me of their developments. I was informed of every action they took and every new hire they brought on board. Word quickly got out among the wolves that a new assassination gang dedicated just to me and our cause was emerging. Whispers, anxiety, and anticipation filled the group. By morning on the second day, Cench and Pamel h
Rhys POV. I was pacing my quarters, mulling about everything. Based on Elder Davis's tenacity in trying to call off the war, I felt the seniors were organising something. He had never been one to back down from a disagreement, hence his sudden change of heart unnerved me. The man was hiding something, hence I was not going to ignore that. Elder Davis lost my trust, and that was a mistake on his behalf. You couldn afford to start to lose faith in my surroundings. Stopped pacing, I looked out the window with hands balled into fists. The pack's future was in jeopardy, and I couldn't let anyone discredit all I had laboriously gone to accomplish—not even Davis. One heard a door knock. I yelled out, staring towards the dark forest that surrounded our house. " Come in." Eric came in and softly closed the door behind him. " You wanted to see me, Rhys?" I turned to face him, a sharp grimace on my lips. "Davis is currently a major problem." Eric arched an eyebrow and stepped forward. "I fe
Gloria POV. After the roasting had subsided, and the air was eerily silent. Glancing at Rhys, who stood motionless, his face set in hard lines, my heart was thumping. Something about that sound had unnerved him, even though he was typically powerful and in charge. His eyes narrowed as if they were attempting to break through the darkness outside, and his jaw tightened—I could see it. I shifted nervously, feeling as though everything was bearing down on me. Already, the impending battle with Marcus loomed large over us, a confrontation that might turn everything around. And suddenly there was this weird, unnerving sound, like a dreadful omen. Rhys looked at Damien and Eric, who were also tense. With a strong and low voice, he stated, "We need to figure out what that was." "We can't afford to ignore it if it's related to Marcus." They nodded, but I felt a wave of panic come over me as they started to depart. Rhys needed to be distracted, so I had to keep him close. I couldn't allow a
The only sound accompanying me as I strolled across the Bluemoon pack's home was the echo of my feet on the chilly marble flooring. The seniors had called me, and every step seemed weightier than the next. I knew they were unhappy with me; their annoyance had been growing. My attempts to get Felza back and my recent behaviour had not only stoked their mistrust but also spawned rumours about my possible overthrow. The meeting room was tight, a far cry from the normal friendliness I knew in my own pack. Seated in a semicircle, the elderly had austere, uncompromising looks. Their keen, penetrating looks followed me as I came in. "Rhys," Elder Noran remarked, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to weigh many millennia. "You have been called here because of mounting questions about your leadership and recent behaviour." Breathing deeply, I tried to calm my nerves. "I understand," my voice calm. "I am doing everything I can to correct mistakes I know I have made." Often the most vocifer
Rhys' POV.. After Tito left, the palace appeared colder and darker. The image of his damaged eyes stayed with me, along with the pain in his words. The suffering and treachery felt like a vice surrounding me.Lost in my thoughts, my mind whirling from the events of the evening, I wandered the poorly lit halls. Tito's face flashed in my head as I rounded a bend, the way he had stared at me with incredulity and grief. My heart hammered, guilt and rage seething inside me.I had to clear my thoughts and find some sort of control amidst the turmoil I had caused. Then I heard a freezing noise, soft and muted like the scrape of a sword against stone. I whirled around, instincts driving me forward. At the end of the hall, I caught sight of Tito's shadow.Panic tore through me. Could he have come back? Was this some kind of sick joke? I grabbed the sharp knife I always carried at hand in a flash of pure panic and desperation. As I approached the shadow, my breath came quick and jagged. I rais
Rhys POV. The grass's great expanse was strangely quiet, broken only by tree rustling. Frayed and tired, I peered into the night. Every attempt to recover Felza had come up short. Marcus was relentless; the messengers returned with just more challenges. It's odd how someone may feel so alone even in a crowd. Though their attendance felt hollow, my pack members had been trying to express support. Though they could not fill the gap Felza left, they could feel my hopelessness. Though within I was disintegrating while trying to keep the picture of power and control. Footsteps behind me, I turned to find Gloria approaching me. Her dress more exposed than usual, hung to her curves. She sported a light-hearted, nearly mocking smile. I had tried to retain some degree of decency and distance. My efforts were running thin, though. Every interaction with her served as a reminder of the void Felza left behind, and Gloria's presence merely made me feel empty. Gloria whispered, "Rhys," gently