Chapter 1 The Night of Blood

The smell of smoke still lingers in my memory. Its thick, dirty smell, like burning wood mixed with the smell of blood in large quantities. Sometimes I am not sure whether the night of the massacre really happened or if it is just a memory created by my brain to torture me every time I close my eyes or fall asleep.

“Run, Elara! Don't look back!”

That was my father's voice. After that, everything turned into indistinct sounds. His voice was drowned out by the sound of fire consuming our homes, the screams of my pack begging for help, and the sound of something tearing.

I remember running fast, my bare feet stepping on the cold forest floor, branches scratching my skin until I was wounded here and there. At that moment, I didn't even feel the pain. All I could feel was my heart beating too fast and my desire to live, even though I didn't know what for and didn't know how to live without my parents and my pack forever.

I heard a howl behind me. The sound was heavy, hungry for something. It was as if the dark night itself was hunting, and it knew my name was its target.

Then I saw it, standing between the smoke and darkness as if that place belonged to it. His body was sturdy, standing calmly as if death was something ordinary to him. His silver eyes reflected the light of the fire, making everything around him feel too quiet, terrifying when I think back on it. Alpha Kael Draven. The leader of the massacre. The monster who destroyed my life so easily in just one night.

Our eyes met, and something inside me ached at that very moment. Heat spread beneath my ribs, sharp and painful. I gasped, not out of fear or exhaustion from running, but because I felt something locking inside my chest like shackles that had just been tied and then pulled tight.

“No,” I whispered. More accurately, my breath was short and refused to accept it.

He looked at me like someone who had just found what he had been searching for all this time. A smile slowly appeared on his lips. Not a warm smile. More like an acknowledgment, a crooked smile full of meaning that I didn't yet understand.

“Mine.”

That one word stuck in my mind. His voice was heavy. It gave me goosebumps. It hurt more than being cut by a branch or splashed with fire. It hurt even more than my family's screams.

Because there was a small part of me, a part that was sad and betrayed what was happening, that responded to that call without me being able to stop it.

••

"Elara!"

I woke up gasping for breath as if I had just survived a long period of drowning, grabbing as much oxygen as I could. Cold sweat drenched my skin, especially my forehead. For a moment, I forgot where I was. My hand instinctively touched my neck, half-expecting to find scratch marks or burn wounds from the dream I had just had.

But there was nothing. Only me and my breath, which was still a little ragged. I woke up on a thin mattress in a rented room above a cheap shop in the city of Ashvale.

Two years. Yes, two years had passed, but the events of that night still lingered in my memory and in every breath I took every day.

I pulled my knees up, hugging them. This place reeked of stale alcohol and damp wood. Below, people were laughing loudly. The sound of chairs being moved could also be heard. Life continued outside, noisy and indifferent, as if somewhere, a life had never been shattered.

I closed my eyes tightly. Trying to banish the terrifying images of the night my pack was slaughtered. Then those silver eyes. The way he said those words I could never forget.

Mine.

My stomach tightened. It wasn't just a dream. I knew what I felt that night. The bond was real. I could pretend to forget, but fate didn't forget me. It seemed we were truly bound by something.

Sooner or later, our paths would cross again. But the question was only when he would bind me more tightly and deeply.

I left home two years ago and never really stopped running. Every city was just a stopover. Ashvale was just another name on the long list of hiding places I had passed through. This city smelled of metal and smoke. People didn't care who you were as long as you didn't cause trouble. That's why I chose it. Here, being forgotten was the safest form of protection.

My rented room is small and cheap. The floor creaks every time I step on it, as if annoyed at having to support anyone's weight. I do whatever work I can to survive here. Cleaning tables at the tavern, sewing torn clothes for the merchants. I never stay long enough for anyone to remember my name, and that's exactly what I want.

I don't seek safety. I'm just trying to survive. Safety is just an empty word easily torn apart by reality.

One night, I went downstairs to fetch water. The shop was crowded, noisier than usual. I walked with my head down, accustomed to being invisible to everyone. Then I heard something that made me stop, my heart racing. A name that cut through the noise like a thin knife.

“Alpha Kael.”

The cup nearly slipped from my hands. My fingers suddenly went numb. In an instant, the sounds of laughter and conversation vanished from my ears. Only the sound of my own heartbeat remained, pumping faster than usual.

Two years. I had been hiding very carefully. But fate always found a way to whisper his name. I knew I couldn't stay here another night, it felt like he was already around when his name was mentioned.

I returned to my room and packed my belongings. One spare shirt. Some coins. The small dagger I always kept under my pillow. I put everything in my bag except for the dagger. The walls of the room felt as if they were pressing down on me, as if they knew that sooner or later he would come. Just like that night.

I left without looking back at the cheap inn. My steps carried me through the narrow, wet streets of Ashvale. The cold night air hit my skin. In the distance, I heard dogs barking. I gripped the dagger tighter beneath my sleeve.

I thought I was alone. I didn't notice at first, didn't see the pair of eyes watching me from the darkness of the alley. It was silent. It didn't move, just waited.