Prologue

The White wolf bled, it's a night when the world stood still: The wind dared not whisper, the ancient pines of Cliffwood seemed frozen. No one moved, no creature crawled, even the moon , hung frozen in the sky.

At the centre stood Amelia, the Alpha of the Cliffwood pack, the last of the white wolf dynasty. Her silver hair flowed wildly down her back, streaked with crimson, her eyes, a glowing gold like flame in the darkness. At her feet lay the aftermath of a bloody war…bodies of rebels, rogue wolves littered the ground and their blood which cannot be touched by anyone.

The survivors knelt before the Alpha, their heads bowed, in reverence, not obligation because what they just witnessed, was power beyond what they could comprehend.

**********

But even legends fall.

The final battle came without warning.

Not just rogues.

Not just traitors.

But it was something worse.

An alliance. Greedy for her power, Afraid of what she represented, they came at dawn, unannounced, subtly and attacked the Cliffwood pack.

The smoke ascending from the burnt Cliffwood pack turned the sky black , and the earth trembled beneath the clash of power. Warriors fought, bled, died—but none shone brighter, fiercer, more unstoppable than Amelia.

She moved swiftly like a storm unhindered.

Every strike was deadly.

Every step, for victory

But sometimes even the storms can be overwhelming.

Blood dripped from the sides of her lips as she dropped to her knee, her body, weak, exhausted, was finally betraying her. The ground she stood on was soaked—hers blood and theirs—but they didn't stop coming.

They kept trooping in, in large numbers, fiercely, unafraid for their lives.

Across the battlefield, she saw them—her pack, her warriors, fighting bravely and willing to die, they believed in her.

Her fingers curled into the earth.

No.

This would not be their end.

Amelia slowly rose, with all difficulty.

The air shifted, the ground shook, the wind dared not whisper.

Something within,deeper—older than her—answered the call.

Her golden eyes flared, brighter than ever before, illuminating the battlefield like a sun in its intensity.

“If the price is giving up my life…” she whispered.

Then so be it.

The power that surged from her this time was different.

Final.

Absolute.

Blinding light swallowed everything.

A scream tore from the sky itself as the explosion of her aura consumed the battlefield—enemies, flames, even the very air—erasing all in its path.

And in the midst of the ruin…

Amelia laid, eyes half shut, ethereal but dying….

…The wind howled through the tower of Cliffwood packed with aches. The night was cold and restless, its stillness carrying grief in its breath. The sky was clothed in a dark and moonless dryness. It was only cloudy, dark heavy clouds that swallowed any little hint of light.

Everything seemed not to be… right, it was too quiet, too still as if the earth had stopped rotating around its orbit, as if the world held its breath.

A woman laid among them, on a bed of silver leaves and a group of men clad in warrior attire and their sheath drawn by their side. Elders cloaked in black fur and the sorrow in their heart blended with the darkness of the sky. No one spoke above whispers. Even the wind softens when its blazing noise passes through the sacred ground.

The White Wolf.

She's magnificent, despite dying, her fur shimmered like the bright star on a full moon breaking through the very core of darkness. She wasn't just a leader, she was their protector, she was a power to be reckoned with. She has built a legacy, she was the last blood in the dynasty of the white wolf.

And now…she was dying, her breath gradually slipping away. A wave of fear swept through the crowd, such fear that lingers for decades or even centuries, such fear that is transferred to the unborn generation, it was raw and suffocating, deeper than the cut of a sword.

What were they afraid of, it's the fact that if she could fall…what is their hope, what is the future of the Cliffwood pack and how long can they remain strong and powerful?

Just before shutting her eyes forever, she promised, her voice, echoing in the air:

“I shall return to you…I promise you, I shall return to you someday.

My only concern is will you recognise me when I return?”

There was a stillness and quietness that filled the sacred ground.

She paused and breathed hard, as if gathering her remaining strength.

“Without this strength and this royal robe, with a different identity, will you recognise me?” She asked and before anyone could give an answer, her eyes closed into a peaceful forever sleep.

**********

Amelia snapped her eyes open, eyes completely turned into a glowing yellow and gradually returned back to normal. Her body jolted upright, breath ragged, heart slamming violently against her ribs. Beads of sweat clung to her skin, her hands trembling as though they still held the weight of war.