The beginning

CINZIA POV

"Let everything go up in flames!" a voice bellowed, jolting me awake.

The loudness ripped me from slumber. I blinked away the haze from my eyes as screams filled the air. Slowly, I climbed down from the bed, moving towards the open window. Peering out, my breath caught as I saw women and men from our pack in frantic motion.

Upon closer look, I realized they weren't just running; they were being chased. And the truth dawned on me. We were under attack!

The door to my room flung open, and I let out a shriek. I clutched the curtain, using it as a makeshift barrier against whoever was entering. My grip tightened on the flower vase resting on the window sill, poised to defend myself.

As my ragged breathing eased, I met the wide-eyed gaze of my mother. She was breathing rapidly, each breath quick and shallow.

"Mother," I started, moving towards her. "What's happening?"

She shook her head and let out another quick breath. Was this an asthmatic attack coming on?

Diana Aetos, my mother, was the Luna of the Royal Wolf Tribe. She wasn't the flawless figure everyone believed her to be. She was a patient, a precise one with asthma. She had defied the odds, surviving while her predecessors had perished during childbirth.

She had never met her own mother, and neither had her mother met hers. This pattern had persisted for generations. I couldn't help but wonder if it was some unspoken curse. I found nothing normal about it.

At eighteen, my mother was still with me. It was a blessing for her to have lived this long. I believed the moon goddess had shown her mercy, sparing her the same fate.

"It's time you learn the truth about who you are," she said, gripping my hand tightly.

I furrowed my brow, studying our entwined hands. "What do you mean, mother?"

"I'm sorry, my darling. I won't have enough time to shield you," she confessed, a low groan escaping her lips as if the words were too heavy to bear.

"What's wrong, mother?" I asked again, concern lacing my voice. Her eyes glistened with tears, and she sniffled.

"I feel like such a failure as a mother. How can I leave you to face this alone?!" She cried, gripping my hands tightly.

"Nothing is going to happen to you," I insisted firmly. I enveloped her trembling form in my arms, resting my head on her shoulder.

"Nothing will happen!" I repeated, hoping she would hear me this time.

"I'm so sorry, my darling child. I've let you down. I couldn't protect you!"

I had never seen my mother so vulnerable, heard her sound so defeated, and it grated on my nerves.

"Enough!" I snapped, narrowing my eyes as the door swung open.

My father, Alpha King Loral of the Royal Wolf Tribe, entered. The same shadow of despair clouded his eyes, though he tried to mask it.

I shook my head at him, and he let out a heavy sigh.

"Cinzia, my darling," he said, approaching me. "You are special, gifted. The moon goddess has blessed you, and I wish we could impart all the knowledge you need."

"I don't understand why you and mother are acting like this, but have faith in the etas and Deltas! They are powerful and have safeguarded this pack for generations."

My father shook his head. "We're up against dark magic, child. Our powers are feeble against it." He extended his hand, and I gasped at the purplish-green traces.

I gingerly clasped his hand, murmuring, "What happened?!"

"I was hit with some sort of arrow." He chuckled weakly, wincing. I pulled back, but my gaze remained fixed on the dreadful wound.

It appeared as if he had been struck with wolfsbane infused with oleander. Wolfsbane was deadly to werewolves, stripping them of their abilities and leading to a slow death, especially for the stronger ones.

The weaker ones didn't stand a chance. Oleander, on the other hand, was a dangerous plant, lethal to us werewolves; mere contact with it could prove fatal, let alone being wounded by it.

Shooting father with both things that were dangerous to us and was still standing meant he was strong.

Father could usually heal himself. He was a formidable werewolf, and injuries were a rarity for him.

"Your mother tried her best to heal me, but it wasn't enough. I commend her for her efforts," Father said, gently touching her hand.

I suppressed the retort that rose in my throat, glaring at him. I wanted to urge them not to give up, to remind them the fight wasn't over. But all the words choked in my throat as the door burst open.

I screamed as a menacing figure strode in. He stood about six feet tall, his face etched in a perpetual grimace. His dark eyes narrowed as he surveyed the room, and he snarled. "Take the princess and dispose of the rest. They serve no purpose to me."

"No!" I cried, rushing towards my father. He enveloped me in his arms, and I nestled my head against his neck.

"I won't let you take them away from me!"

"I'd advise against making a scene," the man snapped.

Two burly guards yanked me from my father's embrace, and I gasped as a sword was unsheathed.

"Any last words?" the man inquired. "You can also take one last look at her if you've nothing to say. I suppose I'm feeling somewhat merciful. My master isn't known for that."

His master?!

My eyes shut his eyes and opened them again. He didn't seemed to be afraid. To me, it felt as though he was ready to face off anything coming his way.

"You are Cinzia Aetos," my father boomed. "The future Alpha of the Royal Wolf Tribe. Don't shy away from displaying your full potential or who you are. You are the people's hope and the goddess's pride."

I shook my head, blinking away the tears that blurred my vision. I couldn't bear to think of them dying. It wasn't the time. It was too soon. I still needed both of them. I'd barely begun what I was meant to do. At eighteen, I hadn't even found my wolf yet. How could I become an Alpha and lead everyone? Who would be my guiding hand?

"Whenever you're in doubt, always seek the goddess; she'll be there to guide you," Mother advised. She tried to step toward me, but she was forcefully pushed back and slammed against the wall.

"I'll damn well end you if you touch my mother again!" I shouted, but received a harsh blow in return from the man.

"They are spouting nonsense, and I want to hear no more of it. Behead them!" He barked.

The sword the guards held aloft came down swiftly.

My breath caught in my throat. I stared in horror as my parents' heads were severed, blood splattering in all directions.

"What a delightful sight!" They jeered, chuckling.

"No, no, no, no, no!" I screamed until my voice gave out.

It turned hoarse as I continued to stare in shock. I tried to grasp the reality of it all, but nothing seemed to make sense.

My parents were gone. What purpose did I have left in this world?