The night air was thick with the scent of war and Lycans.The distant howls came first, low, hungry, and unrelenting. Then came the pounding of paws against the earth, a rumble that shook the trees as Derek’s pack descended upon Cove’s territory attacking Cove’s warriors.The warriors stationed at the perimeter barely had time to react before the enemy struck. The gates trembled as massive claws tore into wood, snarls filling the air as the first wave of werewolves breached the defenses.Within the stronghold, Cove’s sharp ears twitched. His gaze darkened as he rose from his war table. He could already sense it, Derek. His scent curled through the wind, thick with fury and desperation.“They're here”Cove growled, already shifting. His bones cracked and stretched, his muscles thickening as dark fur erupted across his skin. His face elongated, jaws widening into a powerful snout as his hands twisted into claws. In mere seconds, the man was gone, replaced by a towering, black-furred bea
The forest was very quiet except for the soft sounds made by the leaves and the distant sounds of the night. Derek’s warriors moved carefully, their steps slow and heavy. Some carried fresh wounds, while others pressed hands against deep cuts that would take time to heal. Their bodies would recover, but their pride was another matter; the wound was just too deep.Near a small fire, Derek settled and sat with his warriors. His fur marked with streaks of blood; some his, some not. His dark red eyes reflected the bright light as he stared into the flames, deep in thought.Ronan, his second in command, stepped forward. His silver fur bore signs of many battles, but tonight, there was something else in his gaze, concern, maybe even doubt.“That human,” Ronan said quietly. “Why did Cove protect her?”Derek’s hands on his jaw. He had been asking himself the same question. Cove had fought with everything he had, not just to win, not just for his land, but for her. It wasn’t just instinct. It
The grand Lycan Hall buzzed with whispers, tension thick as the smoke curling from the kitchen. Warriors sat at long wooden tables, their fur still stained with blood from the battle, their faces scarred. Maids walked between them, pouring fresh ale and setting down trays of food, their ears tuned to the whispers swirling like a restless wind. Tonight, the talk was not of war. It was of something far more dangerous. “Did you see it?” a young warrior asked, leaning in close, you could barely hear him over the clinking of glasses. “See what?” the older warrior beside him asked, his tone tired , his eyes red from lack of sleep. “Alpha Cove… he protected her. He fought for her.” His friend laughed and took a deep gulp of ale. “Oh, I saw it. We all did,” he said, shaking his head, his braided beard swaying like a pendulum. “Reckless. He nearly got himself killed for that human girl.” A maid placing a tray of bread hesitated, her eyes darting between the warriors. She glanced
Lycia sat on the edge of the bed, her body was tensed, her hands barely holding her body upright. She hadn't slept. The night had been long and restless, her mind replaying every horrifying detail of the battle she had witnessed, and every moment of Cove’s transformation. Her prison was even more unwelcoming as ever, the walls that were made of rough, unpolished stone, trapping her in their icy embrace, reminding her that she was nothing more than Cove’s prisoner. A small barred window high up let in faint light, casting eerie shadows on the disarranged bed she sat on. The air inside smelled of moisture and decaying timber, reminding her how far she was from freedom.She turned to the mirror looking at her reflection in the old, dust covered mirror across the room , which made her stomach twist. She looked so unkept; her long hair tangled, her track suit wrinkled and stained with dirt and dried blood. Dark circles hung under her eyes, making her look drained and weary. Her lips w
The air was foggy outside, with the scent of damp earth and the distant howls of nocturnal creatures. Raven wandered outside the cavern, her thoughts tangled, she couldn’t stop but overthink her place in all of this. The weight of the truth unsettled her, eating up the edges of her usually unshakable confidence. She had spent years mastering her art of manipulation, twisting people to her will, yet tonight, she felt an unfamiliar unease creeping into her bones. She walked further, drawn by the need for more solitude, but the soft murmur of voices in the distance caught her attention. Instinctively, she pressed herself against the rough bark of a tree, her breath shallow as she strained to listen to the sound she heard. Just beyond the tree line, under the pale glow of the moon, she saw Conan standing stiffly before a shadowy figure, cloaked. The figure’s presence exuded authority, a chilling aura that made Raven’s skin develop sudden goose bumps. "The map," the figure demande, his
Vandal placed a firm hand on Conan’s shoulder, his voice steady but filled with grief. “My job here is done. I must return to the Void.”He stepped back, his figure fading like a dying flame. A cold wind rushed through the trees as shadows gathered around him, twisting and shifting. The air felt heavy, as if the world itself was holding its breath. Vandal gave Conan one last look; one filled with pain, determination, and something unreadable, before vanishing into the darkness.Conan stood frozen. His breath came in quick, uneven gasps. Then, the memories struck like a tidal wave, crashing into him all at once.The scent of smoke and blood.The howls ripping through the night.Screams; his mother’s voice, desperate and shaking.His mother knelt beside him, pressing a shaking finger to his lips.“Shh, my little cup. Stay quiet, no matter what happens.”Conan didn’t understand. His little hands clung to her dress as she held his baby sister close, wrapping the child tightly in a bundle
Her body twisted, bones shifting beneath her skin. White fur sprouted along her arms, her nails sharpening into claws. The air crackled with power.Conan squeezed his eyes shut.The sounds that followed were not human.Snarls. Roars. The clash of claws against claws. The crack of bones snapping.He felt his baby sister tremble in his arms, and he held her tighter, biting his lip to stop from crying out.ThenA sharp, agonized scream.His mother’s scream.Conan’s eyes flew open.She lay on the ground, blood pooling beneath her. The werewolf loomed over her, its massive jaws dripping blood. She was still breathing, but barely.Her eyes looked toward the crawl space, locking onto Conan’s.She mouthed something,“Run.”Then the beast struck.A sickening crack.Silence.Something inside Conan shattered.His vision blurred, his breath coming in ragged sobs. His small hands trembled against his sister’s bundle, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t look away.The werewolf lifted his mother’s lifele
The first wolf lunged towards Conan. Raven barely had time to react before Conan moved. His body twisted, avoiding the wolf’s snapping jaws by an inch. In one fluid motion, he grabbed the dagger strapped to his thigh and plunged it deep into the werewolves’ ribs. Causing the werewolf to let out a strangled yelp, that echoed through the trees as the beast collapsed, squealing for help in the damp, moonlit clearing. But the others didn’t hesitate. Two more lone wolves sprang forward, their eyes blazing with hunger. There was no plan in their attack, only pure, reckless desperation. Unlike pack wolves, they weren’t bound by loyalty or strategy. They fought for survival alone, driven by nothing but raw bloodlust. Conan turned sharply, ready to face them head on. The first wolf lunged for Conan’s arm, its jaws snapping, but he moved fast, twisting himself out of reach and slicing deep into its side. The beast let out a pained yelp, stumbling back. The second wolf barely had a chance to
His body was failing him, but his mind remained sharp; too sharp for the kind of visitors who were about to darkened his doorstep. Then came the knock. Firm. Confident. Jack wondered who it was before they had opened the door and stepped in. Raven stood there with that damn smirk, leaning against the frame like she belonged there. And beside her, a man Jack had only heard about in whispers; Conan. Cold eyes. A predator’s stance. A presence that felt like death itself had stepped into his home. Jack’s grip tightened on the wooden cane in his hand. “You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here.” Raven’s smirk widened, but spoke, her voice dripping with mocking innocence. “Just thought we’d drop by since we were in the neighborhood.” Jack let out a dry, mocking chuckle. “Oh, please. You know you don’t have to lie to an old man. What do you want?” Raven stepped a bit closer without consent, her gaze sweeping the room. “Then let’s have a chat, shall we.” “I don’t ch
Morrigana’s breath caught, the words cutting deeper than she’d expected. But she wouldn’t let him see the wound. Instead, she straightened, her nails biting into her skin. “She’s manipulating you,” she hissed. “She’s making you weak.” Cove exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this conversation exhausted him. “She isn’t making me anything, Morrigana.” Morrigana took another step, voice dropping into something darker, something sharp enough to draw blood. “She is nothing, Cove. A thief. A liar. She doesn’t belong here. And the longer you let her stay, the more she will rot everything from the inside out.” Cove’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. So Morrigana pushed further. “You think she won’t betray you?” Her voice turned cruel, slicing like a blade. “She already has. She came here to steal from you. She shoved your hand away in front of everyone. She will turn on you the moment it suits her. And when she does, you’ll regret ever looking at her like she
There was nothing to stop Morrigana from saying what had been clawing at her insides since that moment at the training ground. She found Cove alone in the Alpha’s quarters, standing near the window, his broad shoulders tense. He hadn’t called for her, but that had never stopped her before. Morrigana didn’t waste time. “What the hell was that, Cove?” Cove didn’t turn around. Didn’t even flinch. His voice, when it came, was maddeningly calm. “Be more specific.” Morrigana’s hands curled into fists at her sides. “Don’t play dumb with me, Cove.” Her voice was sharp, cutting. “You carried her. Right in front of the entire pack, Cove.” He exhaled slowly, finally turning to face her. His expression was stern, like his face was carved from stone. “She was injured.” Morrigana laughed, but there was no humor in it. “And since when do you care about that?” She stepped closer, chin lifted, her eyes flashing with anger. “Since when does the mighty Alpha Cove carry people off the battlefield
“You can put me down now,” she muttered, voice quiet but stubborn. Cove didn’t answer. He simply kept walking. Lycia clenched her jaw, forcing herself not to lean into Cove’s warmth. She hated this. Hated the way her body betrayed her, how exhaustion made her weak enough to accept this; even for a second. But then she noticed the direction he was taking, it wasn’t the way to her room; and her frustration shifted to confusion. “We’re not going to your quarters, right?” she asked warily. “No,” he said flatly. A flicker of unease crept in. “Then where…” The answer came when he pushed open a heavy wooden door, and the scent of herbs hit her senses; dried sage, crushed lavender, and the sharp bite of rosemary mingling in the air. Lunara, the pack’s healer, stood in the center of the dimly lit chamber, her violet eyes sharp as she studied them. Shelves lined the walls, filled with jars of dried herbs, vials of shimmering liquid, and aged scrolls containing knowledge only
[Back at the Training Grounds] Lycia’s breaths came fast, shallow, her chest rising and falling as she held Cove’s gaze. She hated the way he looked at her; like he had already won. Like she was his, whether she wanted to be or not. “You can glare at me all you want, little thief,” Cove murmured, his voice deceptively soft. “But at the end of the day, you still stand where I tell you to.” Lycia scoffed, but the sound lacked its usual bite. Her body still ached from the fight, her strength waning. “I don’t stand anywhere for you.” Cove took a slow, deliberate step closer, his towering presence swallowing the space between them. She tried to move but yelped from pain. “You’re hurt,” he noted, voice low, controlled. “You should’ve let me help you up.” Lycia looked at her ankle. She must have sprained it while trying to dodged Morrigana’s attack. She still lo
The air was still thick with tension.Lycia’s breaths came fast and sharp, her body still burning from the brutal fight she just had with Morrigana. She had dirt clinging to her skin, mixing with sweat and she was clearly too exhausted to care about her looks. The training grounds had fallen into stunned silence, all eyes locked onto her and him.Cove.The Alpha.Cove stood tall before her, his silver eyes looking into hers, unreadable and unwavering. He extended his hand to help her stand up; a help Lycia thought to be a silent command and unspoken order.Lycia didn’t move.Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, jaw tight. Every muscle in her body screamed for rest, but she refused to show weakness. When she finally spoke, her voice was like steel.“I don’t need your help.”Cove’s thoughts didn’t change, but the look on his face showed he clearly was not up for games. For a moment, he simply watched her, as if weighing whether she was worth the patience.Then he exhaled, slow an
The warriors' cheers echo through the training grounds, their roars of excitement vibrate through the earth, a clash of approval and bloodlust that fuels the battle unfolding before them. The sound is deafening, howls growing louder with every second, yet beneath it all, a different kind of weight settles over the onlookers.Lycia’s chest rose and fell, the heat still pulsing through her veins, but something deeper; was stirring inside her.The training ground was no longer just a battlefield. It had become an altar, and she was standing at its center, something sacred and cursed in the same breath. The whispers of the Lycans had died out, replaced by stunned silence, their bodies tense, and their instincts screaming at them to recognize the shift in power.Then Morrigana moved.With a wild snarl, Morrigana charged. No tricks, no games; just pure rage.Lycia barely had time to react before they crashed into each ot
Lycia felt the shift in the moment she walked into the training ground. The air was thick with unspoken tension, pressing down on her like a weight. Conversations quieted as she entered, but the stares remained; lingering, calculating.Raven’s presence still clung to her like a ghost, her touch, her voice, the unsettling promises she had whispered. She could hear the hushed whispers, see the way people turned to each other, speaking just low enough that she couldn’t catch the words. But she didn’t need to. The cautious glances, the wariness in their eyes, told her everything.Raven’s words had already spread like wildfire, poisoning the air around her. Lycia forced herself to move forward, head high, steps steady. She had survived Raven’s games. Now, she had to survive this.“She doesn’t belong here.” The words slithered through the air, hushed yet sharp, spoken by a woman with narrowed eyes and lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line. Her fingers curled around the edge of her cloa
A few weeks had gone by, yet the memory of what she had experienced with Maya still lingered in Lycia’s mind. It wasn’t just a warning; it was a certainty, and she was sure of it. Something was coming, something far greater than she could comprehend. And if she wasn’t ready, if she couldn’t control the storm brewing inside her, the consequences would be disastrous.But she couldn’t share it. Not with anyone, as of that moment she couldn’t trust anyone.The weight of it pressed down on her, a secret she had to bear alone. No one would understand, not truly. And even if they did, what could they do? This was her fight, her burden as Maya had said.She found herself walking through the vast estate, wandering into the forest. It was much more silent, all she could hear was the rustling of leaves beneath her boots. The moon’s light filtered through the flora canopy, casting silver streaks across the clearing where she trained alone. Every night, she came here, pushing herself, trying to co