Kael's POV
The scent of blood hit me before I even opened my eyes.
Not fresh blood. Not the metallic tang of a recent kill. This was something older, darker—like rust and rot mixing with the sacred incense burning throughout the Great Hall of Silverfang Manor.
Something's wrong.
"Kael Blackclaw, son of Alpha Daemon, step forward."
My father's voice boomed across the hall, silencing the hundreds of pack members gathered for tonight's dual ceremony. My Alpha Ascension. My bonding to Elena.
The two most important nights of my life, merged into one.
I straightened my ceremonial robes—midnight black with silver threading that caught the candlelight—and walked down the center aisle. Every eye in the room tracked my movement. Pride. Respect. Fear. The usual emotions directed at an Alpha heir.
But tonight, something else lurked beneath those stares.
Pity?
No. I was imagining things. Tonight, I would become the youngest Alpha in Silverfang history. Tonight, I would bond with Elena, the most beautiful she-wolf in three territories. Tonight—
"Kael."
Elena's voice pulled me from my thoughts. She stood at the altar beside my father, ethereal in a white ceremonial gown that made her silver hair shimmer like moonlight. Her ice-blue eyes met mine, and for a split second, I saw something flicker across her face.
Guilt?
Then it was gone, replaced by that serene smile I'd fallen in love with three years ago.
I reached the altar and dropped to one knee before my father, as tradition demanded. "Alpha Daemon, I come before you and the pack to accept the mantle of leadership, to pledge my blood and bone to—"
"Stop."
I froze. That single word cut through the air like a blade.
My father looked down at me, his gray eyes cold as winter stone. "Before we proceed with the Ascension, there is a matter that must be addressed."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. I glanced at Elena, but she refused to meet my gaze now.
"Father?" I kept my voice steady, though unease crawled up my spine. "What matter?"
"The matter of your worthiness."
The way he said that word—like it was poison on his tongue—made my wolf stir uneasily inside me.
"I don't understand," I said carefully. "I've trained my entire life for this. I've led our warriors to victory in twelve border conflicts. I've—"
"You've hidden."
The new voice came from behind me. I turned to see my twin brother, Marcus, stepping out from the shadows at the side of the hall. He wore full battle armor, his face hard as granite.
"Marcus?" Confusion flooded me. "What are you talking about?"
"Tell them, brother." Marcus's lips curved into something that might have been a smile, if smiles were made of cruelty. "Tell them what you've been hiding for twenty-three years."
My heart began to pound. "I don't know what—"
"You can't shift fully, can you?"
Silence.
Absolute, suffocating silence.
Every werewolf in the room stared at me with sudden understanding, sudden horror.
"That's a lie," I growled, but my voice sounded weak even to my own ears.
"Is it?" Marcus walked closer, circling me like a predator. "Then prove it. Shift right now. Show everyone your wolf."
I clenched my fists. The truth was, I had been hiding something. Since my first shift at thirteen, I'd never been able to achieve a complete transformation. I could shift my claws, my fangs, my eyes—partial shifts that made me formidable in combat. But the full wolf form, the massive beast that every Alpha commanded, had always eluded me.
I'd spent a decade learning to compensate, to fight so well in my human form that no one questioned why I never went full wolf in battle.
But now...
"I can shift," I said, putting steel in my voice. "My wolf is—"
"Broken." My father's voice was final as a death sentence. "Your wolf is broken, Kael. It always has been."
The Great Hall erupted in whispers. Shock. Disbelief. Disgust.
"You knew?" I stared at my father, betrayal burning in my chest. "All this time, you knew?"
"Of course I knew." Daemon descended from the altar, his Alpha presence washing over the room like a physical force. "I've known since your first shift failed. I've known every time you made excuses to avoid full transformations. I've known, and I've waited."
"Waited for what?"
"For you to prove you were strong enough to overcome your defect." His eyes were pitiless. "But you never did. You just became better at hiding it."
I wanted to argue. To rage. But the weight of his disappointment crushed the words in my throat.
"An Alpha who cannot fully shift is no Alpha at all," Daemon continued, his voice carrying to every corner of the hall. "He is weak. And weakness has no place leading this pack."
"So what?" I forced myself to stand, to meet his gaze. "You're stripping me of the Ascension?"
"I'm doing more than that."
Marcus stepped forward again, and this time, I saw the triumph in his eyes. "Tell him the rest, Father. Tell him about the curse."
"What curse?" I looked between them. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Daemon's expression didn't change. "Thirty years ago, Silverfang went to war with the Eclipse Clan. They were practitioners of old magic, blood rituals, forbidden arts. When we finally destroyed them, their Matriarch cast a final curse with her dying breath."
My blood ran cold. "What kind of curse?"
"She cursed our bloodline. Declared that any child born under the Blood Moon would be born broken—unable to access their full wolf, destined to bring ruin to the pack." Daemon paused. "You were born under the Blood Moon, Kael."
The room spun.
"So were you," I shot back at Marcus. "We're twins. We were both—"
"No." Marcus's smile was vicious now. "We were born three minutes apart. I came first—before midnight, before the Blood Moon rose. You came after. The curse is yours alone."
This couldn't be real. This had to be some nightmare, some—
"There's more."
Elena's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. She stepped forward, her hand resting on her stomach in a gesture that made my heart stop.
"I'm pregnant."
Joy and confusion warred in my chest. "Elena? You're—we're going to—"
"The child isn't yours."
The world tilted.
"What?"
Her ice-blue eyes finally met mine, and in them, I saw no love. No warmth. Just cold calculation.
"The child is Marcus's."
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. "You're lying. You wouldn't—we were supposed to bond tonight, you—"
"Did you really think I would bond with a defect?" Elena's beautiful face twisted with disgust. "Your brother is everything you're not, Kael. Strong. Whole. Worthy."
"When?" The word came out strangled. "How long?"
"Six months," Marcus answered, stepping beside Elena and placing a possessive hand on her shoulder. "Since the Spring Solstice. Did you really not notice? Or were you too busy pretending to be something you're not?"
Six months. Every private moment I'd shared with Elena. Every whispered promise. Every touch.
All while she was fucking my brother.
"You bastard." I lunged at Marcus, my partial shift activating on instinct—claws extending, fangs dropping, eyes bleeding to amber.
I never reached him.
Beta warriors materialized from the crowd, six of them, slamming me to the ground. Silver chains wrapped around my wrists and throat, burning my skin, preventing any further shift.
"Kael Blackclaw," my father's voice thundered above me, "by the laws of Silverfang and the authority of the Lycan Council, I declare you unworthy. You are cursed. Broken. A threat to this pack's future."
"Father, please—"
"You are hereby exiled."
No.
"Your rank is stripped."
No, no, no—
"Your name is forfeit."
The silver chains tightened, dragging me back down the aisle as I fought and thrashed. Around me, pack members I'd known my entire life turned away. Some looked relieved. Others disgusted.
Not one of them tried to help me.
"Father!" I screamed. "DAEMON! I'm your son!"
He looked down at me with eyes as cold as a winter grave. "Not anymore."
They dragged me to the border of our territory, to the edge of the Deadwood Forest. Every werewolf knew the stories—rogues, monsters, things that even Alphas feared, all lurked in those cursed trees.
"Strip him," one of the Beta warriors ordered.
They tore away my ceremonial robes, leaving me naked and shivering in the dirt. The silver chains still burned my neck and wrists.
Marcus appeared through the trees, carrying something wrapped in black cloth. My father walked beside him, his face emotionless.
"You know," Marcus said conversationally, "I almost feel bad about this. You were always the better fighter. Smarter, too. But you know what they say—the stronger wolf doesn't always win. The one willing to do anything wins."
He unwrapped the cloth, revealing a branding iron heated to glowing red. The symbol at its end made my stomach drop.
Ω
Omega. The lowest rank. The mark of the worthless.
"No," I whispered. "Not that. Anything but—"
"Hold him down."
Six warriors pinned me to the ground. I thrashed, but the silver had weakened me too much.
Marcus pressed the brand to my chest.
The scream that tore from my throat was barely human. The symbol seared into my flesh, not just marking my skin but embedding itself into my very essence. I could feel it corrupting my wolf, forcing dominance down, locking away what little power I had left.
When Marcus finally pulled the brand away, I couldn't even lift my head.
"The Omega Mark," Daemon said from above me. "It will ensure no pack ever accepts you. You are less than rogue now. You are nothing."
Through tears of pain, I looked up at my father. "Why?"
"Because weak Alphas get their packs killed." His expression never changed. "Better to cut out the rot before it spreads."
Marcus crouched beside me, his smile sharp as broken glass. "Oh, and Kael? Elena wanted me to give you a message. She said..." He leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear. "She said you were always too gentle in bed. I, on the other hand..." He chuckled darkly. "Well, let's just say she prefers someone who knows how to make her scream."
Rage flooded through me, hot and violent, giving me one last burst of strength. I lunged at Marcus, chains and all, my remaining claws reaching for his throat—
His fist crashed into my jaw, sending me tumbling backward.
Right off the cliff behind me.
I fell.
The wind screamed past my ears as I plummeted through darkness. The jagged rocks below rushed up to meet me, ready to shred me apart, to end this nightmare forever.
Maybe that's better, a broken part of me thought. Maybe death is better than this.
Then I saw it.
Carved into the cliff face, hidden by the darkness—ancient symbols glowing with pale blue light. Runes I'd never seen before, pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat.
My back slammed into one of the symbols.
Instead of smashing against rock, I felt... something else. Like I'd hit water, or mist, or—
Reality tore open.
The world twisted.
I crashed through layers of shadow and stone, the glowing runes spiraling around me like a vortex, pulling me down, down, down into someplace that shouldn't exist—
I hit solid ground.
Silence.
I lay there, gasping, my body screaming in pain from the brand, the fall, the betrayal that hurt worse than any physical wound.
Slowly, I forced my eyes open.
I wasn't at the bottom of the cliff. I was in some kind of... chamber. Ancient stone walls covered in the same glowing runes. The air felt thick, heavy with power that made my skin prickle.
"Well," a female voice purred from the shadows. "Aren't you an interesting surprise."
I tried to sit up, but my body wouldn't obey. Blood pooled beneath me. The Omega Mark on my chest still burned.
A figure emerged from the darkness. A woman—no, a she-wolf—impossibly beautiful with long raven-black hair and eyes that gleamed like molten gold. She wore tattered clothes that looked centuries old, and silver chains covered her body, far more elaborate and cruel than the ones I'd worn.
But it was the power radiating from her that made me freeze.
This wasn't just any werewolf. This was something far, far older.
"Who..." I coughed blood. "Who are you?"
She tilted her head, studying me like a predator examining prey. Then her lips curved into a smile that promised either salvation or damnation—I couldn't tell which.
"My name is Raven Nightshade, last living heir of the Eclipse Clan." She crouched beside me, one sharp fingernail tracing the Omega Mark on my chest. "And you, little broken Alpha..."
Her golden eyes met mine, and in their depths, I saw madness, fury, and something that terrified me more than anything else tonight:
Opportunity.
"...you're going to help me burn the world down."