The leather straps of Kaelen Draven's hunting armor creaked as he pulled them tight across his chest. The room was filled with metallic crispness with a lingering scent of frozen pine needles and crushed granite that followed him from his constant visit to the North Ridge.

The cold air was drifting in through the tall windows of Ironfang Keep Pack. The polished floor partially covered by thick, charcoal-grey faux-fur rugs kept the room warm with the heater slowly blowing in the background.

The recessed LED strips glow in the dim light that puts attention on the wall made of rough black rock. A large black metal desk with glowing screens and maps was by the side of the room where the hunting knives and the ceremonial blade of the Alpha heir were hanging above the ground.

He looked into the mirror, his hand trying to fix the tip of his tight matte-black compression shirt that showed his powerful build with a professional look. His tall stature was staring back at him in the mirror with broad shoulders and dark hair pulled back at the nape of his neck.

Even in his human form, his golden eyes were still glowing, showing his strong dominance as a prince raised to rule wolves. However, with that confidence, there was still a restless look in his eyes.

"You're thinking too much again," a voice rumbled inside his head, breaking through the silence.

Kaelen exhaled slowly. "I am only preparing," he muttered under his breath.

"Preparing is tightening the strap of your armor, but when you stare at your reflection as if you are waiting for it to attack, that's thinking." Kaelen rolled his eyes.

His wolf, Ravok, had never learned to be silent. He seizes every opportunity to converse with him. "You love my wisdom," Ravok said smugly.

"I tolerate it," he attacked immediately

"Liar."

Kaelen reached for the dagger on the table and slid it into the sheath at his thigh. It was the Blood Moon Hunt night, an ancient royal tradition where the alpha heir led the pack into the forest to prove his strength before the moon.

It was an old ritual, and Kaelen had never once failed it. It was his seventh year of leading the ritual, and his confidence only grew with the years. The door behind him creaked open.

"You look like you're going to your own funeral."

Kaelen groaned, his eyes rolling to the back. "You were not invited."

His sister leaned against the doorway with a grin that showed trouble. Princess Lyra Draven had the same dark hair as him but none of his seriousness. Her silver hunting cloak hung loosely over one shoulder, and mischief glistened in her amber eyes.

"You say that every time," Lyra said. "Yet here I am."

Kaelen turned back to the mirror. "Go annoy someone else. I have no time for this."

"Everyone else is boring."

She walked into the room, circling him like a cat inspecting prey.

"Hmm," she said thoughtfully. "Your armor is polished, hair is perfect, and that little scar on your jaw still makes you look intimidating."

She tapped her chin. "Tragic."

Kaelen narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"You're still single."

Ravok laughed in his head. 'She has a point."

Kaelen ignored them both, and Lyra hopped onto the table, swinging her boots.

"You know," she continued casually, "Beta Rowan says three noble daughters have already asked Father for permission to court you."

"I do not need a mate."

Lyra gasped dramatically.

"Did you hear that, Ravok?" she said to the air. "Your other half intends to die lonely."

"I object," Ravok said instantly. I enjoy females.

Kaelen pinched the bridge of his nose. "You two are unbearable."

Lyra's grin widened. "Admit it. You're scared."

"Of what?"

"Of a Luna."

Kaelen's gaze hardened slightly.

"A Luna stabilizes an Alpha's power," Lyra said more softly now. "The throne will demand it eventually."

"I will rule without one."

Lyra studied his expression carefully. "You sound like Father did once."

Kaelen's jaw tightened with the grilling. "Enough."

Lyra sighed dramatically and slid off the table. "Fine. I'll save my brotherly concern for another day."

She paused at the door, then added sweetly. "Try not to get eaten tonight."

Kaelen threw a glove at her. She ducked and ran laughing down the corridor before silence returned to the room.

Ravok huffed. She is correct, you know.

"Do not start."

You cannot rule forever alone.

Kaelen grabbed his cloak.

"I rule with my strength."

Strength does not warm the den.

Kaelen ignored him at that point, but Ravok's voice lingered in his thoughts.

****

The courtyard of Ironfang Keep roared with activity. As dozens of wolves were preparing for the hunt, the warriors tightened their armor in preparation, and the Gammas were checking the weapons. Anticipation filled the air as the moon stood brightly above them.

It was extremely red and big, explaining why it was called the Blood Moon. Beta Rowan approached Kaelen with an easy stride. He had the calm confidence of a seasoned fighter with broad shoulders, a dark beard, and sharp eyes that rarely missed details.

"Ready to terrify the forest again?" Rowan asked with a soft smile.

Kaelen mounted his horse in one fluid motion. "The forest should be terrified."

Rowan chuckled. "You sound like the legends already."

Kaelen glanced toward the distant treeline. The Witchwood Forest went beyond the mountains, and it was like a black ocean. Only a few wolves entered there willingly because of the powerful pull.

It used to be a powerful coven of witches centuries ago before the Draven ancestors had wiped them out. At least that was the story everyone was told.

"The air smells wrong," Ravok murmured, and Kaelen frowned slightly.

What?" Rowan asked

"Nothing."

But Ravok was already alert. Something smells wrong tonight.

The hunting party rode into the forest. The red moonlight shone through twisted trees, and the forest smelled of moss, earth, and old secrets.

Kaelen raised a hand, and the riders stopped.

"Shift," he ordered.

Armor dropped to the forest floor, and the wolves quickly stood in their place. Immediately, Kaelen stretched as Ravok surged forward. Within seconds, his bone shifted and fur burst across his skin without hesitation.

The transformation ended with a powerful silver-black wolf standing tall amongst others. He was proud and beautiful at the same time. "Now this is better." He murmured.

The pack spread through the trees, hunting silently. Kaelen and Rowan moved at the front, but they felt something strange. There should have been prey within the forest, but everywhere was quiet like a graveyard.

Do you hear that? Ravok whispered, and Kaelen stilled.

There was nothing exactly to hear at first, but suddenly, a scent followed the wind that almost made him puke. It smelled like rotten blood mixed with a bitter scent that could easily be tagged as magic. 

He followed the trail through thick brush until the pack emerged in a small clearing. The smell hit them hard at one point as they saw a wolf body lying in the dirt. It was one of their soldiers, but the death wasn't the worst part; the corpse had been carved open.

There were strange symbols cut into the flesh. There were dark twisting runes burning faintly, and Rowan stepped forward cautiously.

"What in the moon's name..."

Kaelen's wolf growled low. "This is witchcraft."

They were still trying to assess the situation when the faint voice whispered in the forest, "The wolf king's blood will rot..."

The entire pack froze, and Kaelen's fur bristled.

"Who are you?" Rowan demanded, pulling out his dagger

The voice ignored the question and answered instead. "Until he kneels... to the one he despises."

The words echoed through the trees, and Ravok suddenly refused to move even though Kaelen tried to step forward.

His wolf held firm, grounding him. "No, not now."

Kaelen pushed harder. "Move."

No.

It was the first time Ravok had ever disobeyed him. The moon above them darkened slightly as clouds drifted across its red surface. Sudden laughter erupted, and everyone shuddered with the chillness.

Kaelen realized something at the moment: the curse that was spoken about had been awakened.

The halls of the Obsidian Court were quiet and cold. Under the long ceiling lights were shining marble floors with tall statues of past rulers who had ruled the kingdom before them.

Even with the stone stature, their faces looked calm, but their empty eyes were looking alive, following anyone who walked past. Elara walked through the corridor beside her brother.

Their footsteps echoed softly as they walked towards the door. She adjusted the light shawl around her shoulders and glanced at him.

"It's been six days, Valerius," she said.

Her voice was calm, but there was worry in it.

"Six days since she last came to the family table. Even with Father's quarantine rules, that seems a bit much, don't you think?"

Valerius didn't look at her. He was fixing his cufflinks as he walked; his movements were neat and full of pride.

"She's a walking trouble, Elara," he said flatly. "Why would you want to be around her?"

Elara frowned. "She's our sister."

Valerius let out a small breath of annoyance. "She's a drain," he continued. "Every time she enters a room, the atmosphere changes. The lights go out, and the air feels so tense to the point even the staff complain about it."

He finally looked at her. "The entire place feels darker when she's around."

Elara stopped walking for a moment. "That doesn't mean she deserves to be locked away," she said quietly.

"She's still a person."

Valerius stopped too. Slowly, he turned toward her with cold looks in his eyes. He wasn't angry, just dismissive.

"She is a mistake of nature," he said.

The words landed harder than a slap. "She exists only to drain energy from people who actually matter. Thinking about her is a waste of your time."

Elara's fingers tightened around the edge of her shawl.

"Focus on your studies," Valerius continued. "Or Father will find something else to keep you busy."

His voice dropped slightly. "Something you may enjoy a lot less."

Then, without another word, he turned and walked away toward the Great Hall. Elara stood alone in the corridor and watched him go.

Valerius was the perfect son and the future king. He was confident, sharp, and cold. Exactly like their father.

****

The council meeting in the Great Hall ended quickly. They had discussed politics, trade, border control, and the usual things, so there was no reason for a drag.

When everyone else left, Valerius stayed behind with King Malakor. Father and son walked side by side through the palace, but they didn't head toward the gardens or the training wing.

Instead, they moved deeper into the building, down a long staircase. Then another with the air growing colder the further they went.

Finally, they reached a steel door at the end of a narrow hallway; above it was a small metal sign: SUNLESS CHAMBER

Valerius pressed a code into the keypad, and the door unlocked with a heavy click. Inside was not exactly a prison, but it wasn't comfortable either.

The room was small and empty, the metal walls covered with strange carved symbols and special runes designed to suppress magic. The air was dry and still, as if it were meant to suffocate whoever was there.

On a low bench against the wall sat the princess. She looked smaller than usual. Her dark hair was tied back loosely, and her skin looked pale under the soft yellow light of a single wall lamp.

She didn't look up when they entered. King Malakor stepped into the room first; his presence filled the space immediately.

He looked down at her like someone inspecting broken equipment. "The kingdom continues to grow stronger," he said calmly.

His voice echoed off the metal walls. "And yet here you are."

The princess remained silent. Malakor tilted his head slightly.

"Still draining the life out of every room you enter."

Her hands tightened slowly in her lap. "I didn't ask to be put here," she said quietly.

Valerius leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms. "You're here because you're dangerous," he said.

His tone was bored, almost casual.

"Father is actually being generous by keeping you alive and comfortable."

He shrugged. "Most rulers would have thrown you out years ago."

The princess looked down at the floor.

"Or worse," Malakor added softly.

He walked closer to her, step by step. Until he was standing right in front of her. The princess could feel the cold around him; it came from powerful magic that he had taken from others.

"You know what people say about you?" he asked.

"They call you the Silent Princess." He smiled faintly. "They say the world becomes quiet when you walk into a room."

The girl finally looked up. Her eyes looked tired, like she had spent years holding a heavy burden all by herself.

"They don't know the truth," Malakor continued.

"They don't know you are a parasite."

"I am not a parasite," she whispered.

Her voice shook slightly. "I'm just... me."

Malakor's expression hardened. "That," he said slowly, "is the problem."

He turned to Valerius. "Leave us."

Valerius gave a small mocking bow. "As you wish, Father. Just be gentle with her; the screams are uncomfortable."

He stepped out into the hallway. The heavy door closed behind him with a loud metallic slam.

The sound echoed through the room, and the princess flinched.

She knew what came next; it was the ritual. The same thing that happened every week.

Malakor slowly removed the heavy cloak from his shoulders.

"Let's see how much power you've gathered this time," he said calmly.

He rolled up his sleeves; the runes on the walls flickered slightly.

The princess pressed her back against the wall; her heart was already racing.

She hated this part where he tried to pull the energy out of her. To force her power to leak so he could take it.

The ride back to Ironfang Keep shouldn't have been quiet. Usually after a Blood Moon hunt, the pack returned with victory energy, everyone laughing, pushing each other, and arguing about who had made the best kill.

Tonight, no one spoke.

Kaelen rode at the front of the convoy, the cold wind from the mountains hitting his face as the black fortress slowly appeared ahead. Ironfang Keep was not an ancient castle; it was a massive fortress built directly into the side of the mountains with steel, black stone, and glass rising in sharp angles against the night sky.

The drones circled high above the towers, scanning the forest perimeter. Normally the sight of it filled Kaelen with pride, but all that was missing that night.

"Everywhere looks too quiet," Ravok muttered inside his mind, and Kaelen noticed it too.

The gates were open; too many guards stood outside, and every single one of them looked tense. As Kaelen's convoy rode into the main courtyard, warriors rushed toward them.

Beta Rowan stepped forward first. "What happened?" he asked sharply.

A young Gamma looked shaken as he delivered the news, "The King collapsed."

Kaelen's head snapped toward him. "What?"

"It happened not long after you left for the hunt," the gamma said quickly. "He suddenly became weak, and the healers were called immediately."

Kaelen was already moving before the man finished speaking. Inside the fortress, everything was chaos. Staff rushed through the halls carrying medical equipment while the security teams stood outside several restricted rooms.

The atmosphere inside Ironfang Keep felt tense. Kaelen's boots hit the polished floors as he moved through the main corridor.

Ravok growled quietly. This feels wrong.

Before Kaelen could respond, someone grabbed his arm. "Finally."

Princess Lyra stood in front of him, her hair messy and her expression unusually serious. For once, she wasn't smiling.

"Where is he?" Kaelen asked.

"Medical wing," she said. "He's awake, but barely."

Rowan joined them. "Royal healers have been working nonstop," he added. "But they don't understand what's happening."

Kaelen's chest tightened at the news. His father was not a weak man. Alpha King Darius Draven had ruled the kingdom for nearly three decades. He had survived wars, assassinations, and challenges from rival Alphas.

For him to collapse like this... then something was very wrong. They reached the medical wing within minutes.

Outside the King's room stood two heavily armed guards. Rowan opened the door to reveal the dim room. Machines were beeping softly in the background, and on the bed lay the most powerful wolf in the kingdom.

Alpha King Darius looked smaller in the span of hours. His once powerful frame seemed drained of strength. Dark veins spread faintly beneath his skin, and sweat covered his forehead.

Kaelen froze for half a second. He had never seen his father like this.

The royal healer stepped forward. "Your Highness," she said quietly. "The King insisted on speaking to you immediately."

Kaelen nodded once. "Leave us."

The room cleared quickly until only Kaelen, Rowan, Lyra, and the King remained.

Darius slowly opened his golden wolf eyes. They were still sharp despite the weakness.

"You have returned from the hunt," he said hoarsely.

Kaelen stepped closer. "What happened to you?"

Darius looked at him for a long moment. Then he asked a strange question.

"Did you see anything unusual tonight?"

Kaelen's mind flashed back to the forest.

The dead wolf, the carved symbols, and the voice.

"Yes," he said slowly.

Darius closed his eyes briefly. "So it has begun."

Kaelen frowned. "What has begun?"

The King opened his eyes again. "The curse."

The word put everyone in the room on alert. Lyra shifted slightly, and Rowan crossed his arms.

Kaelen's voice hardened. "What curse?"

Darius took a slow breath. "Centuries ago... our ancestors slaughtered a powerful coven of witches."

Kaelen had heard that story before; it was taught in royal history, and it happened in the forest they visited that night.

"They cursed our bloodline with their dying magic," Darius continued. "A curse designed to destroy the Alpha line."

Kaelen shook his head. "That's just a legend."

"I believed the same thing," Darius said quietly.

"Until tonight."

He lifted his hand weakly. Dark veins pulsed beneath his skin.

"The moment you left for the hunt... the sickness began."

Kaelen felt Ravok shift uneasily inside him. The forest, the wolf murmured.

Darius nodded slowly. "The curse awakens when the royal bloodline grows too proud, and we all know you are so adamant about doing the needful."

Silence filled the room in that instant.

Finally, Kaelen asked, "What stops it?"

Darius looked directly at him. "There is only one solution."

Kaelen didn't like the sound of that.

Darius continued. "The Alpha heir must unite the bloodline with the one race we rejected."

Kaelen already knew where this was going.

"No."

Darius ignored him. "A political marriage has been arranged with the human kingdom."

Kaelen's temper exploded instantly. "You can't be serious."

Lyra winced slightly. Kaelen stepped back from the bed, anger rising fast.

"A human?" he snapped.

"You expect the future Alpha to mate with a human princess?"

Darius remained calm. "It is the only way to weaken the curse."

Kaelen laughed harshly. "Humans are weak." He paused for a light chuckle. "They are fragile, short-lived, and barely understand the supernatural world."

He pointed toward the bed. "And you want one of them sitting beside the Moon Throne?"

Rowan spoke carefully. "Kaelen..."

"No."

Kaelen turned toward his father again. "I don't even want a mate."

The room went silent. "I rule alone," Kaelen said firmly. "I don't need anyone beside me."

Lyra stepped forward. "You might not get that choice."

Kaelen glared at her. "I will not tie myself to a human just to satisfy an old story."

Darius coughed weakly. "Then the curse will finish what it started."

Kaelen's anger paused. "What does that mean?"

Darius met his eyes. "It means I die."

Silence filled everywhere once again. The room became uncomfortable with the declaration. Then the King continued. "And after me... it will come for you."

Ravok stirred again, and Kaelen clenched his fists. "This is madness."

Rowan stepped closer. "Kaelen," he said quietly. "If there's even a chance this works..."

Lyra added softly, "You don't have to love her."

Kaelen looked at her. "You just have to marry her," she said.

Kaelen stared at the floor for a long moment. His wolf growled quietly in his mind. I do not like humans.

"Neither do I," Kaelen muttered.

But then he looked back at the bed. His father, the strongest Alpha he had ever known, was barely breathing.

Kaelen felt trapped. The throne demanded a sacrifice, and it was his freedom.