LOGINKellanFatigue creeps in gradually—my eyes growing heavy, and shoulders aching from leaning over desks and shelves. Yet I refuse to stop, flipping through yet another medical tome that details generational blood profiles. The night deepens around the archives, the outside world silent save for occasional distant howls. My wolf remains alert beneath the surface, feeding on the thrill of the hunt even as my human body protests. Every new record fuels my ambition, painting clearer pictures of how I will ascend. Sera’s face flickers in my mind, along with the respect that will shine in her eyes when I claim the throne.I look up eventually with tired, burning eyes, only to realize the soft glow of dawn is creeping through the high windows. Stacks of opened volumes surround me on the desk and floor, my search far from complete.I try to push onward, my fingers trembling slightly as they pull down yet another heavy ledger from the medical records shelf. But the old pages blur before my
KellanI watch closely as Aeron approaches one of the towering shelves, his fingers trailing along the spines of old volumes as if reacquainting himself with long-forgotten materials.The golden light casts long shadows that dance across the wooden floor, highlighting the dust motes swirling in his wake. He stops before a particular section, tilts his head upward, and reads out the carved inscription atop the shelf in a low, resonant voice. “History of Nightbane’s fallouts with other Sovereign Packs.”He turns to me quickly with gleaming eyes“This is a good place to start, not so?”I nod in agreement. “Indeed, Your Grace.” Then I walk up to stand beside him, the scent of aged leather and parchment growing stronger with every step. Reaching out, I select a thick scroll from the shelf at random and unrolling it with careful hands. The parchment crackles under my fingers, revealing dense lines of elegant script detailing ancient treaties broken, alliances shattered, and the bloody con
Kellan“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Your Grace,” I instantly say, the denial slipping out quicker than I intend.Aeron only smiles, then tilts his head slightly, eyes never leaving mine. “Wouldn’t it be nice if I too knew those who plotted my assassination?”I nod slowly, forcing the motion to look thoughtful rather than trapped. “That would really be nice,” I reply, keeping my tone even, though my mind races through every possible trap hidden in his question. Nice? It would be catastrophic if he learned the full truth before I am ready to wield it.Aeron nods once, visibly satisfied with my response. Then he takes a step forward. The subtle advance closes the distance again, his presence filling the doorway."Can I come in?" he asks calmly. "Figured you're not ready yet. But I can wait inside."I step aside smoothly and open the door wider in invitation, my hand steady on the wood despite the tension coiling in my shoulders. He walks past me into the room with that eff
KellanI push through the main doors of the packhouse with speed, my boots echoing sharply against the polished stone floors of the entrance hall. The cool night air still clings to my clothes, carrying faint traces of pine, blood, and earth from the forest, but I barely notice. Outwardly, I tell myself I am simply moving quickly to investigate why those lights flickered on in the archives. It is out of curiosity, nothing more. But deep down I know the fire driving me to pick up speed has nothing to do with some idle curiosity. It is a pure, burning desire for the throne of Nightbane. I strongly believe the evidence against Aeron sits somewhere in those records like a hidden dagger waiting for my hand, and I cannot wait another moment to claim it and strengthen my position before the next council meeting turns the pack against him. That desperation is what drives me, nothing else.I speed past several guards stationed along the main corridor, their surprised glances following me.
Helena"You cannot be serious about this," I instantly snap back into the conversation, my voice cutting through the line with urgent force. "Storming Nightbane with full Grimward forces is beyond irritational–it is reckless and will shatter everything we've worked toward for years."I take a deep breath, realising that my voice was getting louder. "Lucian. The pack will see it as an open coup and war, never as a rightful claim. Allies will flee, and the whole council will turn against us. We need timing, the right leverage–""We've made our decision, Mother," he cuts me short without hesitation. "You must stand by it. The throne of Nightbane is ours for the taking, and we must have it."The line goes dead before I can utter another word. The suddeness that comes with the silence feels louder than his insane shouting ever did.I stare at the phone in my hand, and for a split second I feel like hurling it across the room and watch it smash against the wall. But my arm fights the impuls
KellanIt is dark already, and I rise quickly–dressing up in my hunting clothes.There is no full moon tonight, but the great urge to hunt burns strong within me. I need the forest, the chase, and the clarity only the wind can bring.Heading out my room, I move silently through dimly lit corridors. The packhouse is quiet as usual.Outside, I am washed over by the cool night air. It carries the rich scents of pine, damp earth, and distant good game. I walk briskly at first, reaching the gates and passing by the stationed guards. Their greetings are full of respect, more like they wouldn't have joined hands to kill me if the last council meeting had turned negative.Once out of the packhouse premises, I break into a jog along the familiar path leading to the nearest forest grounds.The jog naturally transitions into a full run. Wind whips through my hair, and branches blur past.With each stride, my convictions to become the Alpha of Nightbane deepens. There is no better path than usin







