CHAPTER 1: SMOKE OVER VARETH
The wind carried the scent of burning fur.
Selene crouched beneath the old roots of the black tree, heart pounding, hands clutching a jagged dagger she'd never used. Above her, fire rained from the treetops, and the howls of her kin—her family—were silenced one by one.
Not by war. Not by beasts.
But by wolves.
Not her wolves.
Ravenscourge.
She saw them through the smoke—hulking, armored, reeking of death and iron. Glowing with red runes etched into their flesh like branded sin. Their fangs dripped blood. Their eyes were void of rage.
No honor.
No mercy.
Only slaughter.
A child's scream ripped through the night.
Selene's head snapped toward it—too late.
The pup was already down. Neck twisted. Limbs limp. Tiny ribs cracking under the weight of clawed feet.
She wanted to run.
Wanted to fight.
Wanted to do something.
But she froze.
Just like always.
"You're not even a wolf," the others used to whisper.
"She doesn't shift. Her blood is thin. A runt. A half-breed."
She never believed them.
Until tonight.
---
Ten Hours Earlier
"Focus, Selene!"
Alpha Damar's voice cracked across the training grounds like thunder. He stood like a mountain—scarred, silver-bearded, arms folded across a chest built from war and winter. The runes inked into his shoulders pulsed faintly with lunar power. Eyes like steel. Voice like stone.
Selene's grip tightened on the training blade.
"I am focused," she muttered.
"Then show me."
He charged—no warning. A blur of speed and brute force.
She ducked too late.
The impact sent her sprawling into the dirt, blade skittering away. Her ribs screamed. The cold ground bit into her cheek.
The other trainees laughed.
Garan. Mira. Even Kallo, who'd once defended her when the others called her "moon-stained." He didn't laugh now—but he didn't help either.
Damar stalked over and looked down with those pale, unforgiving eyes.
"You hesitate," he said. "And hesitation gets wolves killed."
Selene spat blood, struggling to her feet. "I didn't hesitate."
"You always hesitate."
"I'm not weak."
"You're not a wolf," Damar snapped.
The silence after those words fell like a blade.
Selene turned away. She didn't let them see her tears.
That night, the moon rose high.
And once again, it did nothing for her.
---
Back in the burning woods, the air cracked with screams. Selene's lungs burned from the smoke, her ears ringing with war howls and death shrieks.
She could still see the horror etched into Elder Faen's face as the alpha was torn limb from limb by a dozen red-eyed traitors. She could still hear the snapping of spine and soul.
A blood-drenched figure stumbled into view—Kallo.
His chest had been clawed open. One arm hung uselessly, torn at the shoulder. His eyes—always too kind—met hers for one second.
Then the beast behind him struck.
Kallo flew into a tree with a sickening crack.
Selene's breath caught.
"No... Kallo!"
The monster turned—seven feet of muscle, rot, and rage. A Ravenscourge elite. His mouth was too wide, full of jagged fangs. Red glyphs pulsed along his arms like veins full of molten blood.
He grinned.
"Well, look at this," he said. His voice was smoke and cruelty. "A little bitch with no bite."
Selene raised her dagger.
The wolf laughed.
Then lunged.
To be continued...