Accueil / Werewolf / The Twin Prophecy (Sequel to the She Alpha Prophecy) / Chapitre 1 - Chapitre 10

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Trepidation

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-01-28

The Pretender

Caz (Five months later) Sleep doesn’t come easy at night. It never does when my dreams are already waiting for me... lined up like soldiers with their boots planted at the edge of my subconscious. I stare at the ceiling, counting the faint cracks in the plaster, tracking them the way I used to track constellations as a kid. Familiar shapes and comforting lies we tell ourselves so the dark doesn’t feel so empty. The house settles around me in its own rhythm. Somewhere down the hall, Tristan laughs softly in his sleep. He always does when he’s dreaming of Trinity. I can feel it through the bond, warm and golden, like sunlight filtered through leaves. I can also feel his desire and lust. We transmit more to each other when our defenses are down, which has me feeling like a fly on the wall in a room I don't want to be in. A third wheel to moments that I'd rather let be private. It stirs things in me... leaves me pining for a life that I fear I may never experience. Lucky bastard.

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-01-23

Echoes Don't Lie

Caz The forest doesn’t sleep. I used to think that was just something people said to sound poetic, but standing at the edge of the pack lands before dawn, I feel it… roots shifting beneath the soil, branches murmuring to one another, unseen creatures watching with ancient patience. The air hums with old magic, restless and alert, the kind that settles beneath my skin like it recognizes me. Maybe it does. I roll my shoulders, trying to shake the tension knotted there. The mark from yesterday is no longer visible, but the absence doesn’t reassure me. Symbols don’t appear in dreams and wake up etched into your skin unless something has changed. Something has been activated. I still haven't told Tristan... About me also having the gift, about the dreams, and now this stupid fucking curse. I don't want to. So I am hiding from him. After talking with Jon I made myself busy. I just don't know how to face Tristan right now. How do I tell him I have been keeping secrets? That I am a

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-01-23

The Ties That Bind Us

Tristan The moonlight crawls across the floorboards in thin, pale lines. I am struggling to stay asleep, something heavy weighs in my chest, but I'm not quite sure what. The air in the house has been suffocating for days now, thick with something unspoken. As if everyone is holding their breath and waiting for the moment, it finally breaks. I don’t like waiting. Trinity stirs beside me, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight. My eyes flick to her automatically. The curve of her belly is real. Solid. Proof that the future is coming whether we’re ready or not. My chest tightens, not in fear, but in something close to awe. Hope and protective instinct. It’s a girl. I have seen it myself. The knowledge sits heavy in my mind, looping over and over. Rare. Powerful. Dangerous, depending on who finds out. Depending on how the world decides to treat her... depending on if she survives. I think of the way my brother has been looking at the horizon lately, like he’s bracing fo

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-01-23

Just the Two of Us

Caz There’s a particular kind of silence that settles after truths are spoken aloud. Not the peaceful kind or the kind that comes with closure. This one hums... charged and restless, vibrating beneath the skin like it's waiting to see whether you’ll flinch… or step forward. That’s the silence I’m carrying as I pace the far edge of the pack lands, boots crunching softly over frost-kissed grass. The morning is cold enough that each breath ghosts in front of me, pale and fleeting. The sun hangs low in the sky, heavy and watchful, bathing the forest in warm light that feels less like comfort and more like scrutiny. Somewhere behind me, most of the pack still sleeps. Safe and unaware. I should feel relieved... or lighter now that I’ve finally told Tristan the truth, at least part of it. I’ve been shouldering the weight of Kyra’s curse like it was mine to bear by default. But instead of relief, the silence presses closer. It feels alive... festering between us. My hands are shoved

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-01-24

The Peace is Cracking

Caz Truth is a dangerous thing once it starts moving. It doesn’t stay where you put it. It doesn’t respect borders or intentions. It leaks. It stains. It demands witnesses. I’ve learned over the years that peace has a sound... The low, steady rhythm of a world not bracing for impact. No distant howls at the edge of territory. Birds and crickets chirping merrily. No patrols running double shifts. No war councils whispered behind closed doors. No wolves sleeping with one eye open and one hand on a weapon. That sound used to lull me to sleep. Now, it feels ominous... like it has only been a facade. I stand near the western treeline as dawn bleeds slowly into the sky. Pale light stretches across the pack lands, catching on branches, rooftops, and the faint shimmer of the territory line. Somewhere behind me, the pack wakes. Doors creak open. Voices murmur. A child laughs. Someone curses about burnt toast. The comforting chaos of life continues as if the ground beneath us isn’t qu

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-01-24

The Good Alpha

Jon I’ve always believed the oldest truths are the ones you don’t say out loud. That’s why I don’t talk about prophecy wolves. Not to outsiders. Not to most of the pack. Not even to the wolves I trust most. The gift is dangerous. The knowledge is dangerous. In a world where power is currency, truth becomes a liability. Truth has always been dangerous. That is why weak leaders try to lock it away. I never want to lead like that. So when Caz walked into my office and confirmed what I had been suspecting, something fundamental shifted. Not because of the curse itself. Because of who it was circling. "The boy smells like fate," Malachi says bluntly. "And fate never circles without hunger." "He's like a son to me... him and Tristan," I sigh, hating that his life... well shit all of our lives... is about to become violently chaotic... with him possibly at the center of it all. "Ew... that means your son mated with your daughter," Malachi teases, trying to bring some humor i

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-01-24

The Witch Who Remembers

Kyra They call it a curse. That’s how I know they're ignoring the beginning. Names matter. Words shape memory, and curse is the word cowards use when they don’t want to admit responsibility. When something ugly survives their attempts to bury it. When the past refuses to stay obediently dead, they label it monstrous and absolve themselves of blame. Doesn't matter that they inherited the responsibility. It matters that they didn't question anything. Choosing to be blind and remain ignorant doesn't absolve themselves of the injustice their precious pack laws uphold. The laws they CHOOSE to faithfully follow. They call it a curse because that’s easier than calling it correction. Justice has teeth and doesn’t stop when you beg it to. I stand barefoot at the heart of the clearing, toes pressing into soil darkened by old blood and older intention. The earth is warm beneath me, pulsing faintly, as though it recognizes the weight of my bones. It should. The trees ring the cleari

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-01-24

Clinging to Joy

Tristan Joy is loud. People never talk about that part. They talk about fear roaring, grief screaming, rage burning... but joy? Joy hums. It vibrates. It fills rooms and presses against your ribs until you can’t tell where you end and it begins. That’s how Trinity feels lately. She hums. Even asleep, even quiet, even when she’s not smiling there’s this steady warmth pouring off her, seeping into the bond between us like sunlight through skin. I wake up with it. Go to sleep with it. Carry it everywhere like a secret I don’t want to share because the moment I say it out loud, the universe might hear me and decide I’ve had enough. Our daughter kicks while Trinity sleeps. I freeze every time it happens. Not because I’m afraid of her. Gods, no. I am afraid for her. Because each movement feels like a question the world hasn’t answered yet. Are you allowed to exist? I press my palm gently against Trinity’s stomach, barely breathing. The kick comes again, softer this time,

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-01-24

On a Witch Hunt...Sort Of

Caz The first time you hear a lie, you can forgive it. The second time, you will question it. The third time, you fight it. That’s where I am now. Not because I’m afraid of what the lie might do to me… but because I’m afraid of what it will do to everyone else. After visiting my grandmother, she left me with words that felt like both a key and a warning. "Everything comes with a price." "Kyra isn't the only witch who remembers." "The witches aren't just hiding from us. They're hiding from her." She also gave me a river stone. She said it will act as protection, making the witches more inclined to hear what we have to say. She didn't divulge any more information than that, and I was too afraid to ask. I still haven't told anyone about the mark on my wrist... the one no one can see. The mark on the stone is very similar, but not quite the same. It feels content in my hand, like I was meant to hold it. I need to learn more about what the symbols mean so I can better u

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-01-24

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