Prologue

 The night was cold, but the two werewolves staring at each other didn't seem to notice. 

  They were creatures that were half man and half wolf. 

  Creatures that everyone believed only existed in children's stories to scare children. 

   They were legends, yes. But they really existed, trying to survive in a world of mostly humans. 

  One of them, with gray fur, had its claws raised and was tapping each other, as if sharpening its sharp, enormous nails. 

   The other, with brown fur, was snarling at his opponent, while other yellow eyes, like little beacons in the darkness, watched from a safe distance. 

   The brown-furred werewolf lunged forward to attack. He still didn't understand his opponent's superiority and as soon as he got close, inevitably too close, the gray werewolf raised his claw with astonishing speed, even for a werewolf, and swiped with his claw at the other's face, and when he withdrew his claw, one of his quarry's eyes was stuck to his fingernail. 

  The werewolf threw the yellow eye on the ground and stomped on it. 

  They didn't surrender. The fight became bloodier after the moon began to light up and witness the struggle between them. 

   Both didn't spare their claws from slashing their opponent's body and didn't miss the opportunity to see the blood squirt out. 

   When the moon went away, the fight was over. They stared at each other, exhausted. The same question shone in each of their eyes. Who had won? They were young. Only thirty-eight years old. Allister had been trying to beat all werewolves since he was eighteen.  They still couldn't understand how the moon communicated with them. Until they began to hear the sharpening of knives. First, just a few. Then all the werewolves together, their hands sharpening their claws as their cries of recognition escaped. 

  The werewolves who fought understood. The brown werewolf raised his claws and began to sharpen them and then, the grey werewolf, recognizing that this was his family's habit and that it would now belong to all the werewolves, howled loudly and was followed by everyone. 

   They returned to their human form. 

   Delta, a tall man with blond hair and brown eyes. Or brown eyes. And Allister, three centimeters shorter than Delta, with black hair and honey-colored eyes. They started walking back to the village and Delta hugged Allister.

   “You owe me an eye.” He said and Allister smiled. 

  “Don't worry, your eye will grow back.”

   Allister was the new leader of the werewolves. He won this position after fighting all the strongest werewolves from each of the five packs. The winner, in addition to leadership, received the mission of being the guardian of the Alpha's heritage. 

   Until an Alpha was born, everyone had to obey and follow Allister.

  ...

   Allister entered the house after the last fight that guaranteed him and his family financial stability, greater than what he already had, and leadership. The last fight was with his brother Dester. 

  They entered the house together and could tell by the flag flying with the Lens family insignia, which consisted of two gray wolves crossed with a sword with an amethyst in its handle, that they already knew the outcome. 

   The celebration went well into the night. Allister looked at his mother. And her stern gaze was a warning. He couldn't stay married to Myr. Just because she wasn't a werewolf. He felt sad. She had been his companion for almost nineteen years. He had cultivated a friendship, which was not understood by his peers, with a family of humans, and he had been with them when she was born. 

   When she turned nineteen, she agreed to marry him. 

  Her sincere, peaceful smile and naivety never ceased to be the trait of her personality that he loved most, and she never lost both. And she had announced that she was pregnant. He knew that the child wouldn't be a werewolf, but he kept it a secret until his death. 

  The romance between them lived on as long as she was alive. He didn't look as old as he was and perhaps that was why she had never asked him. When she turned forty, he realized that she was already looking older than him.

  Allister looked at Bruma. He hated the species, but his wife loved it and that's why she allowed it in the house. When his wife died, the Bruma ran away and he chased it. When he found out where she was, and that she was pregnant with their second child, he had her killed. He wanted to kill his eldest daughter too, but when he looked at Anne, her beauty bewitched him. And his plans changed.

    He no longer wanted to completely extinguish the existence of the Mists. He wanted Anna to serve the men in her family. Allister would not allow her to have children and so the Mists would cease to exist after her death.

  Myr understood when he said goodbye to her after the birth of their first child. He married Suzy, a werewolf chosen by his parents, and three years after Myr mysteriously disappeared, their second child was born.

  They heard loud howls on the day of Adam's birth and approached the window to see many wolves and werewolves outside the house. The elements flew fiercely, and lightning struck among the hundreds of werewolves who felt no pain. There was no doubt. Alpha was born that day. 

    Adam grew up protected and adored by all the werewolves. Allister was jealous of him and Suzy was afraid. 

  One day, when he was already five years old, she approached him with a mother's affection and asked him if he wished he had a younger brother. And he gave her a cold, cutting look. A look that didn't match the age of a child. And his words were a self-fulfilling prophecy, and she could never stop feeling sorry for him. Whenever she looked at him in the years to come, she remembered those words.

  “You're not going to have any more babies.”Pro