Diana Now, as I look at the elegant facade, I recall the information from the pamphlet Ellen had given me. This is a Michelin-starred restaurant, the best in all of Garnet City, boasting numerous awards and spectacular cuisine. I remember how the manager had taken one look at me and told me to go around back, only to promptly reject me. I hadn't even been allowed through the front door. But now... now I'm here as a patron. I can walk in with my head held high, no longer the pathetic little girl I was just a few months ago. As we enter, Dominicus's voice is smooth and authoritative as he addresses the maître d'. "Reservation for Amadeus," he says, and I watch in barely concealed amusement as the once stuck-up host nearly trips over himself in his haste to accommodate us. "Of course, sir, right this way," the host simpers, leading us to our table. "A waiter will be with you shortly." He takes an awed glance at me, clearly not recognizing the girl he once turned away. As we set
Beta Marcus My phone rings and I reach into my pocket and pull it out. It's been days since I dispatched the mercenaries to Garnet City, and I'm eager for news, my nerves frayed from the endless waiting. "Marcus speaking," I growl when I pick up, my voice rough with tension. The voice on the other end is tinged with excitement, "Sir, you're not going to believe this. We've struck gold." My grip on the phone tightens, "Go on," I command, barely able to contain my impatience. "Well, sir," the human mercenary begins, his tone cautious yet eager, "when you gave us just a name and a photo, I didn't think we'd have much luck. Garnet City might not be massive, but it's still got a few thousand residents. Finding one girl seemed like looking for a needle in a haystack." "Get to the point," I snap, impatience coloring my tone. He chuckles, a sound that grates on my already frayed nerves. "That's just it, sir. We didn't have to look at all. Your girl? She's something of a local celebrit
Content Warning: This chapter contains depictions of violence and non-consensual acts. Beta Marcus The guard hesitates for a moment, shock evident on his face, his eyes widening and his mouth falling open slightly. But he knows better than to disobey a direct command from me. He nods curtly, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard, and hurries off. The girl's face drains of all color, her skin turning ashen. Her eyes, previously wide with fear, now grow impossibly larger, the whites visible all around her irises. She begins to struggle in earnest now, her body twisting and writhing in my grip like a fish on a hook. Her pleas grow more desperate, her voice rising in pitch and volume. "Please, Beta Marcus! I beg you, forgive me! I meant no disrespect!" The words tumble out of her mouth in a frantic rush, each one laced with terror. But I'm deaf to her cries, my ears filled with the roaring of my own blood. In my mind, warped by rage, she has become Diana, and I will make her pay f
Diana The gentle rustle of pages fills the air as I lose myself in yet another book. Over the past few days, I've discovered a newfound love for reading, devouring the volumes Dominicus gifted me with an insatiable appetite for knowledge. Who would have thought that I, once barely literate, would find such joy in the written word? I twirl a delicate purple flower between my fingers, its sweet fragrance a reminder of this morning's gift. Without thinking, I break off its stem and tuck it behind my ear, the soft petals brushing against my skin. A contented smile plays on my lips as I snuggle deeper into the plush couch, reaching for the book I had started earlier: "The Comprehensive Guide to Werewolf History." As I leaf through to my bookmarked page, I can't help but feel a thrill of excitement. There's something empowering about learning the history of my kind, about understanding where we come from. I settle in, ready to immerse myself in the past. The chapter begins with a discla
Diana My hands are shaking so badly now that I can barely hold the book. But I force myself to finish the chapter: "The perpetrator's fate was sealed that same night. It is widely believed that as divine retribution for his heinous act, the gods stripped him of his humanity, cursing him to become Feral. Some scholars argue that he may have descended into madness before committing the atrocity, but this is a minority view. The prevailing theory is that his actions led to his curse." "Almost a century later, Dominicus Amadeus still lives, now known only as the Feral Alpha. It is speculated that the gods cursed him with longevity, forcing him to relive his crime for eternity. He now exists as a rabid animal, a cautionary tale of the consequences of unchecked power and cruelty." I close the book, my mind reeling. But something compels me to reach for another volume: "Global Pack Atlas: Locations and Territories." With trembling fingers, I flip through the pages until I find Garnet
Diana But then, a small voice in the back of my mind speaks up, defiant against the tide of fear threatening to overwhelm me. "Yeah! He killed those men. To PROTECT you!" I pause, caught off guard by this thought. It's true, isn't it though? He saved me that day. And hasn't he been kind and gentle with me ever since, in both his wolf and human forms? My mind drifts to the early days, his initial hostility when he first came to the diner, his aggression when I tried to run away. But those memories are quickly overshadowed by countless acts of kindness. The way he takes care of me, ensures my comfort, protects me. "You're overthinking this," I mutter to myself, running a hand through my hair. "He's been nothing but good to you." But my mind, ever the pessimist, refuses to let go. The history books are clear as day, it argues. He's a monster, a killer. You can't trust him. My heart, however, rebels against this notion. He is my mate, it insists. He has shown me nothing but kindness
Diana He was trying to tell me he loves me? The realization hits me like a physical blow, and suddenly I can't breathe. Guilt washes over me like a tide, threatening to drown me. How could I have doubted him, even for a moment? With shaking hands, I reach up and gently remove the flower from my hair. I stare at it, its delicate petals suddenly blurring as tears fill my eyes. This isn't just any flower. This is the same type of flower I've been receiving every morning and every night since that misunderstanding, since I treated him so terribly. The memory of the vase in our bedroom flashes through my mind. Always full of these lilacs, even as some wither and are replaced. A constant, silent declaration of his feelings. My chest tightens, and I struggle to draw breath. I feel like the worst person on earth. How could I have ever doubted this man? This man who has shown me nothing but kindness, who has protected me, cared for me... loved me. The flower in my hand becomes a testament
Diana Despite his outward ordinariness, my instincts scream at me to retreat and I find myself taking an involuntary step back, my heart racing. But then the man looks up, his eyes brightening as they land on me. A smile spreads across his face, revealing perfect white teeth. And I know it’s too late. I can't just walk away now. So, chiding myself for being overly paranoid, I force a bright smile onto my face and close the remaining distance to his table. I'm probably just overthinking things, I tell myself. He’s just an ordinary human, not some werewolf chasing me down trying to cash in on the bounty. He poses no danger to me, especially not in this crowded diner. I’m probably just still shaken from my earlier emotional breakdown. I pull out my notepad and pen from my apron pocket, falling into the familiar routine. "Hello, welcome to Ellen's. What can I get for you today?" My voice sounds steadier than I feel, a small victory. "Hello," he replies, his voice soft and pleasant. H
Diana Murder?! Me?! They think I killed someone?! And that too a child?!! What the actual fuck?!! My mind reels, unable to process what I'm hearing. Wait no no no, they said ‘aiding and abetting’, so they don’t necessarily believe that I did it directly. More like I HELPED someone do it. An unshifted pup… Werewolves shift at the age of eight… meaning at the oldest the child couldn’t have been more that seven years old… That’s a baby!! I hear a loud and obnoxious ringing in my ears and I take an involuntary step back, as though my body subconsciously tries to physically distance itself from the accusation. Who could do such a thing?! Who could kill such a small and innocent child?! And why are they trying to connect me to it?! Nigel looks at me over the deliberately aged paper, his eyes lighting up with satisfaction at finally eliciting a reaction. "Whose murder?" I ask, my voice high-pitched with shock. "The son of the Alpha of the Plena Luna pack," Nigel replies, clea
Diana Taking my hand, we leisurely walk until we break through the trees. I worry my bottom lip between my teeth but force myself to push down the nerves. I square my shoulders and stand up straight. I'm with Dominicus; I must not shame him by showing weakness. As we emerge from the forest, I see a delegation of wolves turned in our direction, likely alerted by our footsteps. There are at least ten werewolves in attendance, and my eyes widen as I take them in. At first glance, I can tell that over half of them are warriors, but I've never seen pack warriors like this before. Not even Zervos pack warriors measure up. They stand strong, each equipped in black soft armor with sheathed weapons strapped to either their backs or sides. As we approach, the warriors collectively incline their heads in a respectful bow towards us - though I know the gesture is meant for Dominicus - before looking forward again, their gazes fixed on some point in the distance. Their faces are stoic, betrayi
DianaI'm curled up on the plush sofa in Dominicus' study, a book cradled in my hands. The room is bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun, filtering through the large windows and casting long shadows across the polished wooden floor. The only sounds are the occasional rustle of pages as I turn them and the soft scratching of Dominicus' pen as he works at his desk.It's a peaceful moment, but I find myself stealing glances at Dominicus over the top of my book, admiring the way the sunlight catches in his dark hair, turning it to burnished gold at the edges.Suddenly, the air in the room shifts. It's subtle, barely perceptible, but I feel it like a change in pressure before a storm. I look up from my book to find him sitting ramrod straight in his chair, his body tense as a coiled spring. His face, usually so relaxed around me, has hardened into a mask of seriousness, his eyes narrowed as he stares at something I can't see.Concern floods through me, chasing away the peaceful leth
Brodik Elder Rothgar's booming voice cuts through the chatter like a knife. "We need to act quickly. If we can bring this monster under our control, imagine the power we could wield." Elder Fendel nods, a sly smile playing at his lips. In that moment, he looks less like a dignified Elder and more like a sneaky wolf eyeing its prey. "Yes, but how do we approach such a creature? We can't simply extend an invitation." "We could offer him more territory," Elder Thomas suggests, his eyes gleaming with a hunger that belies his age. “Thats useless! As it stands, the Amadeus Pack lands is the largest territory by land mass already. In addition to the human town, all the forestry around it spanning thousands of miles belong to him! How would that tempt him?!” someone argues. "How about a seat on the Council, then! Afterall, all past Amadeus Alphas sat on the council. That might work!” “All Amadeus Alphas are nominal Council Elders already! If he wants a seat, how do you stop him?!”
12 hours ago… Brodik The Council chamber, a vast and imposing space, breathes with the weight of centuries. I stand motionless against its far wall, my face an impassive mask as I observe the unfolding drama before me. The room itself is a testament to the longevity and power of our kind, its very air thick with the scent of old leather, polished wood. Ornate tapestries adorn the walls, their rich hues muted by time and the flickering light of antique chandeliers. These woven histories depict epic werewolf battles and hunts, silent witnesses to the countless decisions that have shaped our world. The golden glow from the chandeliers dances across the scarred surface of the massive oak table dominating the chamber's center, its wood polished to a soft sheen by centuries of use and heated debates. Around this table sit the five of the most powerful werewolves in our world, Council Elders. Their faces, etched with the lines of age and weighted with hard-earned wisdom, are a canvas
Diana I take a deep breath, memories of Billy flooding my mind. "He's been there for me since I was eight," I begin, my voice soft with fondness. "When I was kicked out of the Pack orphanage for failing to shift, Billy was the one who stepped up..." “…He made a few Omega men help him clean out a small shack for me. They didn’t want to, but he made them." Dominicus's eyebrows raise slightly, but he doesn't interrupt. "No one else wanted anything to do with me," I continue, a hint of old pain in my voice. "But Billy... he got furniture for me, fixed it up. He made sure I was fed and clothed. He even homeschooled me." I pause, overwhelmed by the memories. "Without him, I wouldn't have survived. A wolfless orphan at eight... I wouldn't have stood a chance." Dominicus's hand finds mine, squeezing gently. "He sounds like a good man," he says softly. I nod, tears pricking at my eyes. "He is. He even moved to a smaller, more rundown house closer to mine, just to be near me. He... he wa
DianaI take a deep breath, inhaling the fresh forest air that surrounds us. The scent of pine and earth fills my lungs, momentarily calming my frayed nerves. But the weight of what I need to say presses down on me. Steeling myself, I turn to face Dominicus, my heart pounding in my chest."Dom?" I call out, my voice barely above a whisper, almost lost in the gentle rustling of leaves around us. "There's something I need to tell you... about yesterday."I feel him tense briefly before relaxing, his muscles shifting beneath his skin like a predator preparing for action. His arms tighten around me, a gesture of silent support that speaks volumes in the quiet of the forest."What is it?" he asks, his tone gentle but concerned. His eyes, those mesmerizing brown orbs, search my face intently.I nod, swallowing hard. The memory of yesterday's ordeal sends a chill down my spine. But there's no time to waste. We need to act, and for that, Dominicus needs to know everything."It's... it's not g
DianaI feel my hands clench into fists. The fury inside me is not just anger – it's determination, it's resolve, it's a fierce protectiveness for the man before me.As I look up at Dominicus, my eyes blazing, I see a flicker of surprise cross his face. He pauses in his narration, studying me intently.How dare they?!How dare those bastards do that to him?!The weight of Dominicus's words, the pain that was etched in every line of his face as he told the story, fuels my anger. I feel it burning in my chest, threatening to consume me."They must pay," I declare, my voice trembling with rage. "Those people must pay for all they've done. Dominicus. I'm going to help you find them. We'll get revenge!"To my surprise, Dominicus's response is a soft smile. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to my nose. "Thank you, dulcis," he murmurs, his voice warm with affection.His reaction throws me off balance. The smile, the tenderness – it feels incongruous with the gravity of what we've just d
DianaThe words hang in the air, heavy and ominous. My tears stop as shock takes over, leaving me feeling numb and disoriented.“Dark… Magic?” I echo, stutteringly.“Wha-“ "It... it actually exists?" I whisper, my voice barely audible.Dominicus's face is grave, his eyes dark with a chilling menace."Yes”, his jaw clenched tight.My eyes are round as my jaw goes slack with shock. A frown creeps across Dominicus's face. "Tell me," he says carefully, "what do you know about the supernatural world?""Well, it's made up of werewolves-," I begin but then I trail off, uncertainty creeping in. Something about the way he asked the question makes me pause and reconsider.I think back to the books I've read, remembering inconsistencies I'd previously overlooked. "In the books I've studied," I say slowly, piecing my thoughts together, "sometimes they refer to the 'supernatural world' and other times to the 'werewolf world.' I never really thought about it before, but... if they mean the same t