The night was calm—almost too calm. I stood at the edge of the pack house porch, the cool evening air brushing against my skin. The moon hung low in the sky, casting its silvery glow over the quiet landscape.
Most of the pack had retired for the night, the hum of life settling into its usual rhythm. But my thoughts churned, heavy with too much to process.
And then I felt it. Something was wrong.
The woods were silent—unnaturally so. No rustling leaves, no distant owl calls, not even the faint scurry of nocturnal creatures. It was as if the entire forest was holding its breath.
Aurora stepped out beside me, her green eyes sharp as they swept the tree line.
“Do you feel that?”
I nodded, tension coiling in my chest. My wolf stirred restlessly under my skin, alert and uneasy.
“Something’s coming.”
Before she could respond, a cold gust of wind swept through the clearing, carrying with it the acrid scent of burning herbs—and something darker.
Then it came: a howl, sharp and desperate, breaking the silence. One of the guards on patrol. It ended abruptly, cutting off in a way that made my stomach twist.
“Stay here,” I said, my voice hard as I turned toward the woods.
“Not a chance,” Aurora shot back, already stepping forward.
I didn’t have time to argue. Shadows flickered at the forest’s edge—one, then two, then a dozen. Figures emerged, cloaked in dark robes that blended into the night. Their faces were obscured, but their hands glowed with unnatural light.
“Witches,” I breathed, my voice barely audible. My wolf bristled, a low growl vibrating in my chest.
I moved toward the door, but Aurora caught my arm, her grip firm.
“What’s happening?”
“I don’t know,” I said, my voice tight with frustration. “Stay here. Stay with John.”
Her fingers tightened around my arm.
“Anthony, no. Don’t do this.”
“If they’re coming for me, they’ll come for him too,” I said through gritted teeth.
Her jaw clenched, defiance flaring in her eyes.
“I’m not staying behind. Not while the pack is under attack.”
“Aurora…,” I started, my voice dropping.
“And what about John?”
“I left him with a babysitter,” she interrupted, her tone unwavering. “I can’t just stand by. I’m your luna, Anthony. Let me fight.”
My wolf growled in protest, torn between protecting her and letting her stand beside me. I didn’t have time to debate. The sharp, acrid scent of burning herbs was already seeping into the pack house.
“Fine,” I snapped. “But stay with a group. No unnecessary risks.”
She nodded, determination blazing in her expression. I knew that look—she was already planning her own moves.
The guard headquarters was a storm of chaos when I arrived. Wolves rushed to arm themselves, their voices rising as they called out reports from the borders. Uncle Thomas was organizing patrols, his commands cutting through the noise.
I didn’t need to ask where Aunt Karen was; she’d be at the hospital, helping the injured.
My father was already there, his presence commanding as he directed the defenses. He turned when he spotted me, his expression grim.
“Anthony!” he barked. “We’ve got movement at the southern edge and another group closing in on the pack house.”
“Then we split our forces,” I said, stepping up beside him. “Half to the borders, half to defend the house. I’ll take the southern edge.”
He nodded sharply.
“I’ll hold the house. We can’t let them break through.”
“Caroline,” I said, my sister’s name slipping out before I could stop it. My chest tightened, the worry clawing at me.
“She’s at the hospital,” Kevin said, stepping in. “I’ve already sent guards to her. She’ll be fine.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, the weight on my chest easing—if only slightly.
But there was no time to dwell. The scent of burning herbs grew stronger, the tension in my wolf rising with every passing second. The witches weren’t just coming—they were already here.
I shifted into my wolf form, the transformation surging through me with a familiar rush of power. My senses sharpened, every sound amplified, every scent crisp against the backdrop of the forest.
Kevin and a group of warriors flanked me as we plunged into the dark woods, the hum of the witches’ chants growing louder.
The witches emerged like specters, their cloaks melting into the shadows. Their movements were precise, almost too coordinated, as if they had rehearsed this ambush for years.
The air crackled with their dark magic, each chant vibrating in my bones. Fear clawed at me—not for myself, but for my pack. My people.
I was their alpha. Their shield. Their protector. But witches? We hadn’t seen witches in centuries. I didn’t even know how to fight one.
I lunged at the closest figure, my claws slashing through the air. She vanished in a swirl of acrid smoke, reappearing behind me with a burst of energy that barely missed my flank.
The witches weren’t attacking randomly. Their movements weren’t chaotic like those of desperate invaders. They had a purpose, a target.
Me.
And if they were after me, it meant they might go after Caroline. Or John.
The thought nearly paralyzed me, but I forced myself to focus. The pack needed me clearheaded.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Aurora leading a group of guards toward the eastern line. Her light brown hair gleamed in the moonlight like a beacon, and my chest tightened with a mix of pride and dread.
Growling, I shifted back into human form and intercepted her.
“Aurora!”
She shifted too, her face flushed from the battle, her eyes blazing with determination.
“I told you I wasn’t going to stand by while the pack is under attack.”
“How do we know John is safe?” My voice was sharper than I intended, but the urgency in my chest overpowered any attempt to soften it.
“He’s with the babysitter at the pack house. He’s safe, Anthony. You need to trust me.” Her tone was firm, but there was a flicker of vulnerability in her green eyes.
Another explosion of magic erupted nearby, cutting off my retort. My father appeared, his wolf form shifting back as he surveyed the chaos.
“Dad,” I barked, urgency sharpening my tone, “take Aurora back to the pack house. Make sure John stays safe. And get more guards to escort Caroline there, too.”
She froze, her eyes searching mine. Her shoulders sagged slightly as she let out a heavy sigh.
“Fine,” she said, at last, her voice thick with reluctance.
Christopher placed a steady hand on her shoulder.
“Come on,” he said, his tone brooking no argument.
Aurora hesitated, her green eyes locking onto mine.
“Be careful,” she whispered before turning to follow him.
The battle raged on. The witches pressed forward with relentless attacks, their spells colliding with claws and fangs in a deadly symphony.
My wolf surged forward, tearing through their ranks, but their magic was unlike anything we’d faced before. For every one we drove back, two more appeared.
Then, a tall hooded figure stepped forward, her presence sending a shiver down my spine. In her hand, a blade shimmered with silver; the acid of silver smelled in the air, and I could feel it.
I lunged, but she was quicker, her weapon slashing through my arm. The pain was sharp but brief.
My wolf braced for the searing agony that always accompanied silver. It never came.
The wound closed almost instantly, the flesh knitting itself back together before my eyes.
The witch froze, her hood tilting as if she were truly seeing me for the first time.
“The prophecy is right,” she whispered, her voice low and laced with triumph.
Before I could react, she disappeared into the shadows, her words echoing in my ears as the remaining witches retreated.
Kevin sprinted toward me, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
“They’re gone,” he said, his voice thick with disbelief.
I didn’t respond. My wolf was already clawing at me to run. To make sure. To know.
I tore through the forest, sprinting back to the pack house. The door flew open under my hand, and my eyes searched the room desperately until they landed on him—John.
He lay bundled in his crib, his tiny chest rising and falling in peaceful rhythm.
Aurora stood nearby, her face streaked with dirt and exhaustion, her expression a mix of relief and frustration.
“He’s safe,” she said softly.
The tension in my chest unraveled, leaving only raw fear in its wake. I leaned heavily against the wall, dragging a hand down my face.
“They’re after me,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “But if they can’t get to me…they’ll come for him.”
Aurora stepped closer, her hand finding mine.
“We won’t let that happen,” she said, her tone steady, fierce.
I nodded, but her words couldn’t drown out the witch’s voice in my head.
The pack house was quiet now, but the tension clung to the air like a heavy fog. Wolves moved cautiously through the halls, tending to wounds and reinforcing defenses.
The aftermath of the attack left everyone on edge, including me.
In my office, I stood with my father, both of us hunched over the map spread across the table. The witches hadn’t targeted our borders—they’d come straight for us. For me.
“This wasn’t a random attack,” I said, my voice low and tight. “They knew exactly where to strike.”
My father’s expression was grim as he nodded.
“And it’s not just you they’ll target. Caroline has the immunity too, and we don’t even know about John yet.”
The mention of my son hit me like a blow to the chest. My jaw tightened as I looked up sharply.
“We need to protect her. And not just her.”
Christopher raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue.
“Call Arthur,” I said firmly. “Clair needs to know what happened here. If the witches can’t get to me or Caroline, they might go after her next.”
He hesitated for a moment before nodding.
“I’ll handle it. What about the Council?”
“I’m going,” I said decisively. “Kevin and Caroline will come with me. Aurora will stay here with John.”
The thought of leaving them behind clawed at me, but the fear for my son was so suffocating it made it hard to breathe.
Christopher’s jaw tightened, his blue eyes mirroring the same concern I felt.
“Be careful,” he said finally. “And don’t trust anyone at the Council too easily.”
“Dad,” I called softly, waiting until his gaze met mine—the same piercing blue eyes he’d passed down to Caroline and me. “Do you ever stop worrying? About us? About your children?”
My voice cracked, and I couldn’t bring myself to finish the question, but my father, ever patient, sat down on the couch and patted the seat beside him.
“As I’ve told you before,” he began, his tone steady, “being an alpha isn’t just a job. It’s a way of life. Even retired, I still feel it, because the truth is, it never ends. And being a father? It’s the same thing. The worry doesn’t go away—it just shifts. You’re the alpha now, but I still worry about you. About Caroline. About all of you.”
His words hit me harder than I expected, and I lowered myself onto the couch beside him.
“You’ll see,” he continued, his voice softening. “It’ll be the same for you with John. It never stops. But here’s the thing—it’s worth it. Every single second of it.”
I nodded slowly, his words sinking in. But he wasn’t done.
“Still,” he added, “it’s not normal to carry the kind of weight you’re carrying right now. Wondering if your son might have the same immunity as you, knowing the witches could target him too.” He placed a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm.
“But Anthony, if there’s anyone who can protect his family, it’s you. If there’s any alpha who can defeat the witches, it’s you. I believe in you. And about John…” He paused, his eyes softening. “You’ll never have to do this alone. I’ll always help you protect him.”
I hadn’t expected the kind of relief his words brought me, but it was there, steady and grounding.
“Thanks, Dad,” I managed to say, my voice thick. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.
