MelanieI sat curled up on the couch, idly working on a drawing with the iPad. The sound of my stylus against the screen was oddly soothing, though the rest of me was anything but. My mind was a tangled mess of thoughts I didn’t want to deal with—thoughts about the palace, about Oswald, about everything that felt wrong here. The artwork was my escape, a way to silence everything else, even if just for a little while.Oswald’s voice broke through the quiet as he asked another question, his tone gentle but persistent. “How was your day, Melanie?”I didn’t look up, didn’t need to. His voice had become a familiar sound, one I was trying to shut out, along with all the other noise of this place. “Fine,” I said flatly, my focus still on the tablet.“Did you enjoy your walk around the garden?” he asked.“Sure,” I answered, pressing the stylus to the screen again, the sharp sound of it marking my frustration. It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen gardens before. They all felt the same to me now—beauti
MelanieThe smell of food drifted through the air, tickling my senses and pulling me from the depths of my slumber. I squinted against the sunlight streaming through the curtains, still groggy from sleep, and slowly began to sit up. It was then that I noticed something that almost made me rub my eyes to make sure I wasn't imagining it.There was a buffet laid out beside my bed. A full buffet. There were pancakes stacked high, golden and fluffy, with butter melting over the top. Eggs, scrambled to perfection, crispy bacon, fresh fruit in every color imaginable, sausages, toast with jam, a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice, and even a coffee pot with two steaming mugs beside it. It looked like a feast fit for a king.And standing beside it, adjusting things just so, was Oswald.I blinked, too stunned to speak at first. “What... what is all this?” My voice was still thick with sleep.Oswald turned and gave me that warm, boyish grin of his that always made my heart do something fun
MelanieThe wind felt refreshing as we sped down the winding roads outside the palace, leaving the gates and the stone walls behind. The sleek black car glided smoothly over the pavement, and I had to admit, I was actually starting to relax. After the events of yesterday, it was nice to be out and away from the palace.Oswald was next to me, his hand on the wheel, glancing at me occasionally with a smile that seemed to say he was just as eager for the day as I was. For the first time since I arrived here, I wasn’t thinking about my confusion or the weight of the title he carried. For once, I felt like I could just be… me.“So,” Oswald said, breaking the silence, “What do you think of the day so far? You enjoying it?”I smiled, leaning back against the seat. “I am, actually. It’s nice to get out. I haven’t really seen much of the town. It’s kind of like... like a whole new world. Everything feels different.”Oswald grinned. “Well, that’s the idea. I like showing you around, love. You d
MelanieThe scene unfolded faster than I could process. The two men were sprawled in front of Oswald, groaning and barely conscious, but I could feel the danger still hanging in the air. My breath came in short bursts, my mind racing. I had to stop him. I couldn’t let Oswald do this.“Oswald, stop!” I shouted, my voice shaky as I reached for him, my hands on his arm, trying to pull him away from the men.He turned to look at me, his jaw clenched, eyes burning with fury. His body was tense, as if ready to finish what he started, but when he saw the worry in my eyes, he hesitated.“What’s wrong?” His voice was low, dangerous, and I could hear the authority in his tone. But he wasn’t looking at the men anymore—he was looking at me.“I… I need to figure out what they wanted first,” I said quickly. “Just… just let me do this.”He looked at me for a long moment, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. Then, he nodded once, stepping back, his gaze never leaving me.I took a deep bre
MelanieI stood in the middle of my art room, hands covered in paint, looking around at the space Oswald had created for me. The room had a perfect view, with wide windows opening onto a large balcony. I could feel the cool breeze blowing in, the faint scent of fresh air mixing with the smell of oils and acrylics. The sun was setting, casting soft golden light over everything, and I couldn’t help but smile.I reached over to open the screen doors that led out to the balcony, letting the evening breeze pour in. It felt freeing, like I could finally breathe a little easier in this space.I pulled my easel closer to the open window and started setting up my supplies—mixing paints, organizing my brushes, and picking the colors I needed for the canvas I’d been thinking about all day. The space felt so peaceful, yet energizing at the same time.For the next few hours, I lost myself in the rhythm of painting. The outside world faded away, and I became fully absorbed in my work. My hands move
MelanieThe morning light crept into the room, casting soft golden rays across the sheets. I woke up slowly, still half-dreaming, the feeling of Oswald’s arm wrapped tightly around me anchoring me to reality. His breath was warm against my neck, and I couldn’t help but smile at the contentment that filled me. The past few days had been a whirlwind, and although the world outside might not have been in my favor, I was at least here, in Oswald’s embrace.He stirred beside me, shifting slightly before his hand found mine, threading our fingers together. He kissed the back of my hand softly, causing a shiver to run through me.“Morning, love,” he whispered, his voice rough from sleep.“Morning,” I whispered back, my voice still a little groggy.He turned to face me, his blue eyes glinting with a mixture of affection and something more intense, something that made my heart race. Slowly, he leaned in, pressing his lips gently to mine in a tender kiss. The warmth of his kiss spread through m
MelanieThe morning light crept into the room, casting soft golden rays across the sheets. I woke up slowly, still half-dreaming, the feeling of Oswald’s arm wrapped tightly around me anchoring me to reality. His breath was warm against my neck, and I couldn’t help but smile at the contentment that filled me. The past few days had been a whirlwind, and although the world outside might not have been in my favor, I was at least here, in Oswald’s embrace.He stirred beside me, shifting slightly before his hand found mine, threading our fingers together. He kissed the back of my hand softly, causing a shiver to run through me.“Morning, love,” he whispered, his voice rough from sleep.“Morning,” I whispered back, my voice still a little groggy.He turned to face me, his blue eyes glinting with a mixture of affection and something more intense, something that made my heart race. Slowly, he leaned in, pressing his lips gently to mine in a tender kiss. The warmth of his kiss spread through m
MelanieI had been in the art room for hours, my mind numb from the colorful swirl of paints and brushes. It had been a quiet escape, a brief moment of peace from the whirlwind of events that had taken over my life in the last few days. But even here, there was no true comfort. No matter how much I immersed myself in the strokes of my brush, the weight of everything that had happened—the lies, the rumors, the pressure to conform to a life I wasn’t sure I was ready for—remained.Celeste had been quietly watching me, as she always did. There was a comforting gentleness to her, a calm that I desperately needed right now, but even that wasn’t enough to ease the restlessness twisting inside me. She was kind, sweet, and never pried, always tending to her duties with a soft smile. But today, even Celeste couldn’t soothe the gnawing anxiety."Miss Melanie," Celeste's soft voice broke my reverie. "It’s time to leave the art room now, I think. I’m sure Queen Lydia is expecting you."I looked up
MelanieThe return to the Royal Crimson Pack’s territory was bittersweet. The sun was rising as we crested the last hill, painting the blood-soaked horizon in shades of gold and crimson. It felt like a cruel irony, the beauty of the dawn juxtaposed against the pain etched in every step we took. The pack lands were quieter than they should have been, the air heavy with grief and exhaustion. Our warriors bore the weight of loss, and though they moved forward, their eyes told the stories of the friends, brothers, and sisters we’d left behind. Rook, still unconscious, was carried by a pair of strong wolves. He looked fragile in their arms, a stark contrast to the overwhelming power he’d wielded as the Alpha of Shadows. I walked alongside them, refusing to leave his side. Oswald stayed close to me, his steady presence grounding me. His hand brushed against mine, a silent reassurance that I wasn’t alone. As we passed through the gates of the Royal Crimson Pack’s stronghold, the rema
MelanieThe ground trembled beneath us, cracks spiraling outward like jagged veins across the temple floor. Dust filled the air, choking and thick, but I didn’t care. My eyes were locked on him—Rook, standing tall in the center of the crumbling ritual circle, his body radiating dark power that rippled through the air like a storm. The sky above the temple churned, dark clouds roiling in an unnatural vortex, blotting out the moon and stars. The world seemed to hold its breath, suspended in the shadow of the Alpha of Shadows. “Rook!” I shouted, my voice hoarse but defiant. He turned toward me, his glowing eyes piercing through the gloom. For a moment, I thought I saw the man I had come to know—the fierce, determined wolf who had fought alongside us against the cult. But that glimmer of familiarity was swallowed by the overwhelming darkness. “You shouldn’t have come,” Rook said, his voice resonating with a power that wasn’t entirely his own. It was layered, twisted, as though ano
Quincy OttoThe air was suffocating, thick with the weight of ancient power and an oppressive darkness that gnawed at the edges of reality. The temple walls trembled, their runes bleeding crimson light as the cult's ritual surged toward its peak. At the center of it all was Rook, bound in chains of dark energy, his form writhing as the magic engulfed him. The moonstone hovered above him, its light pulsing in time with the ritual’s chants, casting eerie shadows across the chamber.I stood in the shadows, watching it unfold. For all the years I had plotted, schemed, and waited, the moment was finally here. My son, my legacy, stood on the brink of transformation, poised to become the Alpha of Shadows. But this was not a moment of triumph—it was a culmination of pain, regret, and a darkness I could no longer control.Rook’s screams echoed through the chamber, his voice raw with both fury and anguish. I could feel his resistance, the fierce battle within him as he fought against the chains
MelanieRook’s capture weighed heavily on me, a constant ache in my chest that I couldn’t shake. He had warned us, risked everything to fight against his own bloodline, and now he was in their hands. The image of him being dragged away by those cultists haunted me, even in my waking hours. But I wouldn’t let his sacrifice be for nothing.Oswald and I stood in the war room, the map of the Blackspire Mountains spread out before us. The air was thick with tension as we plotted our next move. Hazel stood to my right, her fingers tracing the lines of the map, while Quincy Otto lingered near the edge of the room, flipping through an ancient, tattered book.“They’ll take him here,” Quincy said finally, pointing to a spot on the map marked with jagged peaks. “The Temple of the Veil. It’s where the cult conducts its most powerful rituals. If they mean to turn Rook into the Alpha of Shadows, they’ll need the temple’s energy to do it.”Oswald’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Then we’ll
MelanieThe air was thick with tension as we gathered in the central hall of the Royal Crimson Pack’s fortress. The wariness that clung to the room was palpable. Every face around me—Oswald’s, Quincy’s, Hazel’s, and even Rook’s—carried the weight of what lay ahead. The cult wasn’t just a threat to us anymore; they were a threat to everything we had fought to protect.“Let’s get this straight,” Oswald said, his voice tight as he folded his arms across his chest. “We’re trusting a rogue who’s the son of the enemy and a traitor who once conspired against the pack. Tell me how that doesn’t sound like the worst idea we’ve ever had.”I glanced at Rook, who stood rigid near the corner, his jaw clenched but his gaze unwavering. He wasn’t fazed by the hostility, which only added to the enigma he’d become. Quincy, on the other hand, smirked faintly, clearly enjoying Oswald’s skepticism.“Because if we don’t,” I said, breaking the silence, “we lose any chance of stopping this before it’s too lat
RookThe battle had settled into uneasy silence, the air thick with the acrid scent of blood and the sharper sting of betrayal. Rogues lay scattered across the battlefield, their bodies lifeless, but it wasn’t a victory. The cult leader—my father—had escaped, and with him, the artifact that could doom us all. I stood in the eye of the storm, my heart warring against my instincts as I turned to face Melanie and Oswald.Their eyes bore into me, a mixture of fury and mistrust. They had every right to question me. My past was steeped in lies, half-truths, and bloodlines I wished I could sever. “You need to explain yourself,” Oswald growled, his tone low and dangerous. “Now.”I took a step back, holding up my hands in a gesture of surrender. “I will. But first, I need you to understand that I’m not here to hurt you. I never was.”“You expect us to believe that after what we just saw?” Melanie’s voice was sharp, but beneath it, I could hear the tremor of uncertainty. Her golden eyes search
MelanieThe sound of howls pierced the still night air, a chilling harbinger of the storm descending upon us. My heart raced, a drumbeat in the chaos as the pack mobilized. Every wolf—strong or wounded, young or seasoned—stood ready to defend our home. I could feel the energy humming in the air, dark and unnatural, an unwelcome intrusion into our sacred land.Beside me, Oswald barked orders, his voice carrying authority and resolve despite the tension etched into his features. His hand briefly brushed mine, a fleeting but steadying touch. I drew strength from it, pushing aside my fears. The rogues were here, and there would be no turning back.The first wave hit hard. The rogues, eyes gleaming with an unnatural light, were faster and more coordinated than any enemy we’d faced before. Their movements were sharp, their attacks precise, as if they were being guided by an unseen force. I shifted into my wolf form, joining the fray with a feral growl. My claws tore through the flank of a
MelanieRook stood at the edge of the firelight, his silver eyes catching the flicker of flames as he paced. The weight of his presence was palpable, and the silence between us stretched like a taut wire. Oswald leaned against the nearby table, arms crossed, his gaze sharp as he waited for Rook to speak. I stood beside him, my thoughts racing. The pendant, the shard, the whispers of the Shadowstone—all of it was beginning to form a picture, but the edges were jagged, incomplete.Finally, Rook stopped pacing and looked at me. His jaw tightened as if the words he was about to say physically hurt to utter. “You want the truth? Fine. My pack, the Shadowfangs, is gone. They were wiped out by a force unlike anything you’ve ever faced.”My breath caught. Though the devastation of war wasn’t new to me, the bitterness in his tone carried a weight that made my chest tighten. “What kind of force?” I asked.“A rogue Alpha,” Rook said, his voice low and cold. “Not just any rogue. This one isn’t ac
MelanieThe silver pendant lay on the table in front of me, its faint glow casting eerie shadows across the room. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Its intricate wolf design shimmered with an otherworldly energy, a reminder of the forces we had yet to understand. Rook’s sudden disappearance and the organized rogue attack weighed heavily on my mind. This pendant was more than just a clue—it was a thread connecting us to the growing storm.I reached out to touch it, hesitating when my fingers hovered above the surface. Even without making contact, I could feel the power radiating from it, a strange resonance that felt both familiar and foreign. It reminded me of the moonstone, the ancient relic we’d fought so hard to destroy. Could it be connected to that same magic?“Don’t,” Hazel said sharply, breaking my trance. She stepped forward, her expression grim as she glanced between me and the pendant. “We don’t know what it’s capable of.”“I wasn’t going to,” I said, pulling my hand back. My