As Yasmin and Raz made their way up north, Yasmin realized this was the first time she’d ever left the Moonbeam Pack. That Pack had been her entire world—every face, every place, all so familiar yet stained with painful memories. Now, she was finally leaving it all behind: the loneliness, the sadness, the struggles. She was starting over, not just for herself but for the little life growing inside her, the unexpected gift that gave her a new purpose. Their journey was mostly quiet, but Yasmin didn’t mind. Each day, she felt a sense of freedom, like she was seeing the world for the first time. She’d never really thought about what was beyond the boundaries of Moonbeam, and now, each new landscape and face felt like something out of a dream. She wasn’t involved in Raz’s supply trades with the other Packs, but she kept her eyes open, taking in everything around her. As the days stretched into weeks, and then into two months, she felt herself changing. The scenery constantly shifted—fr
Yasmin woke to a strange calmness, blinking against the faint moonlight that slipped through the cracks in the old wooden shutters. For a moment, she lay there, unsure of what had pulled her from the heavy veil of sleep. It took her a moment to realize: the day was already gone. Night had fallen. She pushed herself upright slowly, feeling the clarity of true rest spread through her limbs. It felt foreign, like wearing someone else’s skin. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept more than a few hours at a time, always getting up before dawn to work until her hands ached and her mind was too tired to think. Now, as she sat alone in this quiet room, she felt—for once—fully awake. A soft knock sounded at the door, and her pulse quickened. Yasmin took a breath and went to answer it, opening the door to find Raz standing there, his expression as impassive as ever, the dim candlelight catching on his sharp features. He held a tray with two steaming bowls of stew and a rough hunk of
The van jostled along a winding mountain road, the landscape unfolding like a painted tapestry outside Yasmin’s window. She held a map in her hands—given to her by Leo as they started the new leg of her journey—and she’d spent the past hours studying the clusters of small towns and packs that dotted the valley, nestled between rugged mountain ranges and fields that stretched wide and green under the open sky.One town in particular caught her eye: Thistlethorn Pack, tucked in a forested hollow along the mountainside. There was a simplicity in its description, a humble quiet she found herself drawn to. She traced her finger over the name and glanced at Leo.“I think I’ll stop at Thistlethorn,” she said, her voice quiet but resolute.Leo gave a grunt of acknowledgement, keeping his eyes on the road. “Solid choice. Quiet folk, from what I hear. They keep to themselves, but you’d probably get some peace there.”And so, their journey continued, five days of steady driving with periodic sto
SEVEN YEARS LATER. The guards stationed at the grand double doors bow their heads and open them, stepping aside as Zaid prowls into the room, his presence as commanding as his title. The low murmur of voices ceases instantly, and everyone present angles their necks in submission, acknowledging their Alpha. Without breaking stride, Zaid waves for Khal, his Beta, to continue. Khal, unflinching, nods and returns his gaze to the large map splayed out on the table, various areas marked with colored pins that indicate recent alliances and ongoing strategies. “Eastern packs have accepted the alliance terms, Alpha,” Khal announces, gesturing to sections of the map. “We’ve managed to secure a mutual defense with the packs in the Harrowfield and Larchwood regions.” He traces a finger across the pins clustered near the eastern border. “This leaves us only the small-town packs around the western territories. We’ll be sending envoys out to negotiate peaceful terms, but there may be a few relucta
The small market hums with life, each stall a miniature world of color and sound. Yasmin maneuvers through the bustling crowd, her woven basket balanced on her hip. The familiar faces of vendors greet her from all sides, some calling out with friendly waves or snippets of conversation as she passes.“Yasmin! Morning!” calls out Farid, the vegetable vendor, a broad grin lighting up his wrinkled face as she approaches his stall. He gestures proudly to the spread of produce before him. “Carrots, fresh as this morning’s dew. And the best cabbage you’ll find in the whole market.”“Good morning, Farid.” Yasmin greets quietly, her smile warm. “Your carrots always are the best.” She gestures to a bright, orange bunch and adds, “I'll have this bunch of carrots and a cabbage, too.”Farid, never one to miss an opportunity, places the vegetables in her basket with a practiced flourish. “Ten silvers,” he says, lifting his chin as if to say it’s a fair deal.Yasmin raises an eyebrow, crossing her a
Yasmin pushes through the doors of the Thistlethorn school, her heart racing as she enters the hall. She spots Zephyr immediately, standing with his head down beside Woyi and two other boys. Headmaster Chuso stands before them, arms crossed, his face a mixture of frustration and disappointment as he addresses the boys.Without waiting, Yasmin rushes forward. “Headmaster Chuso, what happened?”Chuso looks up, exhaling heavily. “Miss Yasmin, it seems your son and these other boys were involved in a fight. We don’t tolerate this kind of behavior here, and I’m honestly disappointed in all of them.”Yasmin turns to Zephyr, her eyes scanning his face. “Zephyr, is this true? Were you fighting?” She asks quietly.Zephyr’s face tightens, but he doesn’t look away. “Yes, Mama, but I had a reason. Bayen, Tomar, and Niko”—he glances around as if searching for the missing boy—“they’ve been picking on Woyi for weeks. I told them to stop, but they wouldn’t listen.”Bayen scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Pi
When Yasmin and Zephyr finally reach home, Yasmin closes the door softly behind them, the quiet click echoing in the small space. She walks into the living room, drops her market basket on the floor, and sinks onto the couch with a heavy sigh. Zephyr hesitates for a moment, his eyes darting between her and the floor, before he sits down beside her.Yasmin glances over at him, her face softening. “Zephyr, I need you to tell me what really happened today,” she says gently. “No more holding back.”Zephyr fidgets, rubbing his palms against his knees. “It was… like I told you, Mama. They were bullying Woyi. They kept calling him names, taking his lunch. And I’d warned them before.”Her gaze roves over him. “And the dead patch on the field… do you have any idea what caused it?”Zephyr’s shoulders stiffen, and he looks away, his face clouded with hesitation. Yasmin reaches over, putting a gentle hand on his arm. “Zephyr,” she says softly, “please. You don’t need to hide anything from me. I j
Zaid clasped the hand of the Alpha of Windmere, his grip firm, almost bruising, yet carefully measured. The other Alpha, though clearly determined to hold his ground, couldn’t quite disguise the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. He lifted his chin, his mouth set in a determined line, but Zaid could feel the undercurrent of anxiety. It was unmistakable; Zaid’s presence was too intense, too powerful, and the other Alpha knew it. No amount of bravado could mask that instinctual knowledge. “Thank you for the welcome,” Zaid said evenly, his voice low, holding a subtle edge that left Windmere’s Alpha a touch paler. “Yes—of course. It’s… it’s an honor to host you, Alpha Zaid,” the man replied, a bit too hastily. His gaze darted to the ground, breaking eye contact for a moment before he composed himself. “Your journey must have been long. I hope our provisions are to your satisfaction.” Zaid barely inclined his head, giving a brief nod. “It will do,” he said, turning to stride toward the
Zaid led Zephyr through the side door of the shed, flipping on the light with a flick of his wrist. The space came alive as the overhead bulbs illuminated the dusty, warm wooden beams and walls. Shelves upon shelves lined the room, stacked high with wooden carvings, tools, and unfinished pieces. There were intricately carved animal figurines, hand-forged furniture, delicate picture frames, and even detailed sculptures of wolves, their faces frozen in mid-snarls. The smell of sawdust and fresh-cut wood filled the air, grounding everything in the comforting scent of craftsmanship.Zephyr’s eyes widened in awe as he slowly took in the room. His small hands instinctively reached out, his fingers itching to touch the polished surfaces of the creations. “Wow! Did you make all these?” His voice was a mixture of amazement and genuine curiosity.Zaid chuckled, a low rumble that made the room feel warmer. “Yes, I did. Every single one.” He paused, stepping aside to give Zephyr room to explore.
The silence at the dinner table was thick, pressing down like a weighted blanket over Yasmin as she tried to focus on the beautifully arranged plates and not the piercing gaze of Zaid’s mother across from her. Yasmin stole a glance at Zephyr, who was busy marveling at the feast set before him, oblivious to the tension she felt building around her."So," Zaid’s mother began, her tone smooth but sharp as she studied Yasmin, as if weighing every word before speaking. "Tell me about yourself. You don’t seem to carry a family name."Yasmin swallowed, caught off guard by the blunt question. “No, ma’am,” she answered softly, meeting the woman’s gaze with as much confidence as she could muster. “I don’t… have one.”Zaid’s mother tilted her head, her expression neither approving nor disapproving, merely curious. “Just Yasmin, then. And your origins?” she asked, folding her hands neatly as she leaned forward.“Yes,” Yasmin replied, taking a quick breath to steady herself. “I’m from the Moonbeam
Zaid’s mother’s house was tucked a little way into the woods, removed from the bustling heart of the Crimson Fang Pack’s main grounds. As they approached, Yasmin took in the modest, two-story building with a warmth that suited the woman she was about to meet. The structure was quaint, with ivy creeping up the stone walls and a garden of herbs sprawling to the side. The scent of rosemary and sage filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of cooking, and Yasmin couldn’t help but feel a little comforted by the home’s earthy charm.Zaid stepped up to the door, gave it a solid knock, and after a moment, a voice called from inside, “Come in!”Yasmin took a steadying breath, her nerves fluttering as they stepped over the threshold. The interior of the house was inviting and lived-in, the kind of space that spoke to years of care and small touches of personality. Jars of dried herbs lined the shelves in the entryway, filling the air with a subtle, calming fragrance. Nearby, potted plants
Zaid leaned against the stone wall of Crimson Academy, his sharp eyes scanning the grounds as children began to trickle out of the school in pairs and clusters. Parents waited along the sides, greeting their children with open arms, and some of the pack members who recognized him gave respectful nods, bowing their heads slightly in deference as they passed. After a moment, Zaid spotted Zephyr emerging from the school, his dark hair bouncing as he animatedly talked to two other boys. One of them, Zaid recognized immediately—it was Marla's son, whose laugh was as boisterous as his mother’s. Zaid couldn’t help but smile as he watched the easy camaraderie between the three boys, feeling a pang of pride. Zephyr caught sight of him then, and his whole face lit up. With a quick wave goodbye to his friends, he broke into a run, his small feet thumping against the ground as he crossed the courtyard toward Zaid. Zaid crouched down, a warm smile spreading across his face as he opened his arms
Zaid leaned over the cluttered table, his eyes sharp and focused on the files scattered around him. Various maps, reports, and plans lay in a disorderly array, but his mind was already piecing them together, analyzing every possible angle. Across from him, his Beta, Khal, had his arms folded, eyes narrowed as he studied the central map, occasionally throwing out ideas. His Gamma, Ren, paced back and forth, his voice punctuating the silence with suggestions.“What if we take a different approach here?” Ren pointed to a position on the map. “Maybe station an extra patrol at the eastern border. We’ve seen a lot more movement there.”Zaid considered this for a moment. “It’s a good point,” he muttered, tracing a line with his finger along the map. “But we’d need to draw resources from another area to make it work.” He glanced at Khal. “Thoughts?”Khal stroked his beard thoughtfully. “We could ease up the west boundary, bring two patrols over to cover that side. Haven’t seen activity over t
Yasmin woke before her alarm, her mind already racing with thoughts of Zephyr’s first day. She padded quietly through the room, the soft morning light filtering through the windows as she headed to Zephyr’s room. Pushing open the door, she found him sitting on the edge of his bed, still rubbing sleep from his eyes as he fumbled with the buttons on his crisp new uniform.She couldn’t help but smile as she moved closer, crouching down to fix his collar and smooth out the fabric of his shirt. “Look at you,” she murmured. “My little man, all grown up.”He grinned as she ruffled his hair. “Mom,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes. “It’s just school. I’ll be fine.”“Just school,” she repeated, her smile widening. “But you're really excited to start this ‘just school.’"Zephyr’s face softened, a faint, proud smile tugging at his lips, though he quickly tried to hide it. “I guess…”Yasmin brushed a stray curl from his forehead, feeling a lump in her throat. “And besides, this uniform makes you look
As the last of the dishes were cleared away and the bustling dining hall began to quiet, Yasmin leaned back, content and full, her gaze drifting to where Zephyr was laughing with a group of children at a nearby table. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes bright, his happiness filling her with a profound, grateful warmth. She’d longed to see him like this, truly carefree.“Yasmin,” Zaid’s voice cut through her thoughts, gentle but commanding. She turned, meeting his thoughtful gaze. “I wanted to talk to you about Zephyr. I assume he's been receiving education?”Yasmin nodded. “Yes, just the basics—reading, a little arithmetic. Thistlethorn didn't offer much. And I know it’s not enough. I’ve been trying to teach him more, but…” She trailed off, unsure how to put into words the frustration and limitations she’d felt. “He deserves more.”Zaid’s expression softened. “I’ve seen his spirit. He’s hungry to learn, I can tell. And he should have the opportunity to grow—in every way.” He glanced ov
Yasmin stirred awake, slowly peeling her eyes open as the softness of the bed cradled her in a comforting cocoon. She sighed deeply, feeling as if she’d slept for a lifetime. This bed had to be enchanted; nothing else could explain how utterly refreshed she felt. A smile tugged at her lips as she stretched, her gaze drifting to the window where she noticed the sky deepening into shades of twilight. With a soft groan, she reluctantly sat up, brushing her hair back and deciding it was time to find Zephyr. She padded out of her room and crossed the hall to his, only to find it empty. Her heart fluttered with a slight pang of worry, her motherly instincts already kicking in as she glanced up and down the corridor. He could be anywhere in this enormous house, and the thought of him wandering alone made her stomach twist. Yasmin took a steadying breath, reminding herself that this wasn’t a strange place—at least, not to Zaid. And Zaid was with him, so he was safe. Squaring her shoulders,
The Crimson House was like stepping into a world Yasmin couldn’t have dreamed of. The entrance hall stretched on and on, its high, vaulted ceilings carved with images of wolves, stars, and ancient vines that twisted together in a mesmerizing pattern. Sunlight poured through enormous windows, casting a golden light across polished marble floors, and art lined the walls—paintings that told stories of the pack’s history, legends of battles, and serene landscapes of the northern forests. Portraits of former Alphas watched over the space, their faces resolute, capturing centuries of legacy and strength.Yasmin lingered near the entrance, feeling almost reluctant to move forward, her hand unconsciously tightening on the shoulder of her young son, Zephyr, who was wide-eyed with amazement. His mouth opened in a soft “wow,” and Yasmin couldn’t help but smile as she watched him take it all in. He looked so small against the vastness of the hall, yet his excitement filled her with a quiet streng