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The Alpha's Vow
The city lights flickered below like dying embers, but Damian's mind was far from the skyline.
He sat alone in his war room—a hidden chamber beneath his estate, known only to his most trusted allies. Maps, photos, encrypted files, and ancient scrolls littered the long table before him. This was no longer just a personal crisis. It was prophecy unfolding.
A new Alpha.
Born of both worlds.
And every enemy he'd ever made was going to want a piece of it.
Damian clenched his jaw. "No one touches her. Or the child."
A soft chime echoed through the room. The door opened, and Zara—his second-in-command and most loyal warrior—stepped in, holding a tablet.
"You summoned me?"
"I need eyes on every Alpha council between here and the Eastern packs. Discreetly. If any of them so much as sniff the wind in her direction, I want to know before they move."
Zara's gaze narrowed. "This is about the prophecy, isn't it?"
"It's not a prophecy anymore," he said. "It's happening."
Zara didn't flinch. "You found the girl?"
"No," Damian lied again, the word like acid in his mouth. "But if I do, she'll be moved. Hidden. Protected."
Zara paused. "You really think she's carrying the heir?"
"I know she is."
For a brief moment, emotion flickered behind his stoic expression. Not just the primal instinct of an Alpha—but fear. And something dangerously close to hope.
Zara approached the table and placed the tablet down. "Then we'll build a shadow network. Safehouses. Escorts. Silent watchers in the towns. Anyone gets close to her, they vanish."
"And Lucien?" Damian asked.
"He suspects you're lying," she replied. "He's watching you."
"Let him. He won't make a move until he's sure."
Damian walked to the vault at the far end of the room. With a hiss, it unlocked, revealing a worn leather case. Inside, wrapped in silk, lay an ancient pendant—an heirloom passed down from the first werewolf king.
The Bloodmark.
Only true-blooded Alpha heirs could activate its power.
He stared at it for a long moment, then closed the case.
"When I find her," he said, voice low and resolute, "we leave. No more city. No more enemies in suits pretending to be friends. I'll take her somewhere no one can reach."
"And the baby?"
Damian's eyes glowed faintly gold. "I'll raise the child myself. Teach it to rule. To fight. To survive."
He turned to Zara. "But until then… Luna must not know what she carries. Not yet. The truth could break her."
Zara bowed her head slightly. "And if she disappears again?"
"She won't," Damian said. "Not this time. I'll find her… or I'll burn this world down trying."
---
The Awakening..
Luna stood in the backyard, her hands wrapped around the handles of two heavy water containers. Uncle Raymond had asked one of the boys to carry them in from the truck, but no one had moved. Without thinking, Luna had stepped forward and picked them up like they were nothing.
But now, as she stood in the doorway, her stepmother froze mid-sentence.
Her eyes were wide with disbelief.
"What... how did you carry those?" she demanded, voice sharp.
Luna blinked, surprised by the question. "I just picked them up."
Her stepmother stepped closer, staring at her arms like she expected them to split open.
"Those containers weigh over fifty pounds each. Not even your brothers lift them that easily."
Luna shrugged, confused. "They didn't feel heavy."
The older woman's face twisted into something between suspicion and fear. She turned abruptly and stormed inside.
Later that night, Luna sat alone at the kitchen table, biting into her third rare steak. The craving had started a few days ago—raw or barely cooked meat. It was like her body needed it. Anything else made her nauseous.
Even now, she chewed slowly, savoring the taste like a starving predator. The smell of blood wasn't off-putting anymore—it was comforting.
Uncle Raymond entered the room and paused when he saw the plates.
"Are you… okay?" he asked cautiously.
"I was just really hungry," she mumbled, avoiding his gaze.
He sat across from her, setting his keys down slowly. "Your stepmother told me about what happened earlier. With the water drums."
Luna froze.
"I'm not angry," he added quickly. "Just… concerned. Luna, that's not normal. That kind of strength—it's not human."
She looked up at him, eyes wide. "I don't know what's happening to me."
He studied her carefully. "Has anything else changed? Your hearing? Your dreams?"
She hesitated, then nodded. "Sometimes I can hear people whispering from far away. And my dreams… they feel real. Like I'm somewhere else. Like I'm being watched."
Raymond leaned back, visibly rattled. "Luna, I think whatever is inside you… it's not just a baby. It's triggering something in you. Something dormant."
Luna clutched her stomach, heartbeat pounding. "Am I turning into something?"
"I don't know," he said. "But if this continues… we may not have a choice. We'll need help."
"From who?"
Raymond looked away, hesitant. "There are people your father once trusted. People who know about things like this. I just hope… they're still alive."