The Wild Crest Heir

Natalia's Pov

The scent of pine and moss filled my lungs as I tore through the forest, wind slicing through my fur. Every beat of my paws against the earth was a promise—to my pack, to my future, to the bloodline that pulsed like wildfire in my veins.

Out here, I was more than just Natalia Thorne, daughter of the Alpha of the Wild Crest Pack.

I was the heir. The next Alpha. And in the forest, I was free.

The moment my training had ended, I shifted and ran, needing to shake off the weight of politics, strategy sessions, and the constant reminders that the legacy of an entire pack rested on my shoulders.

Rylan had pushed me hard that morning.

“You’re getting faster,” he grunted after I flipped him onto his back, both of us panting. “Soon, I’ll be the one learning from you.”

I had smirked as I pulled my robe over bare skin, muscles still humming with exertion. “You’ll still be around to remind me where I left my head.”

We’d laughed. We always did. But under the banter was pride—mine, and his.

That was hours ago. Now, as the shadows stretched longer between the trees, I finally turned back toward the village, letting the tension slip from my shoulders.

I paused at the edge of the creek, shifting back into human form. Cool water stung against the scratches on my arms. I rinsed away the blood and sweat and dressed quickly before stepping back onto familiar ground—our town of carved wooden lodges and fire-warmed gathering halls.

The air buzzed with quiet respect as I passed. My people nodded, some smiled, and I offered a small wave in return. They trusted me. Looked to me.

They had no idea how close they were to losing everything.

Inside the main hall, the elders were already gathered, their weathered faces lit by golden lanterns. My father, Alec Thorne, stood tall at the head of the long table—still a force of nature despite the silver streaking his dark hair.

“Ah, Natalia,” he said, his voice a rich rumble. “Come, we were just about to begin.”

I took my place beside him, every inch the dutiful heir. I asked the right questions, listened as stories of triumph and sacrifice were passed down to me like sacred heirlooms. I absorbed it all.

“You’ve raised a fine leader,” Elder Josephine told my father, her sharp eyes softer than usual.

I caught the glint of pride in his gaze. For a heartbeat, I felt unbreakable.

Then the world shattered.

A horn’s wail sliced through the night like a blade.

The door burst open. “We’re under attack!”

Chaos erupted before the words even sank in. Howls rang out—our warriors calling to arms. I bolted outside, instincts already surging, bones breaking and reforming mid-run as I shifted into wolf form.

The night air was thick with smoke and blood.

And then I saw them.

Night Walkers.

Dark, monstrous shapes surged from the treeline, fangs flashing in the moonlight. Not rogues. Not strays. This was an invasion.

Why? Why now?

I had no time to think. I launched myself into the fray, claws tearing, jaws snapping. The scent of my pack's blood filled the air. We were unprepared, ambushed. I fought harder.

A snarl to my right—

Father.

He was battling the Night Walker Beta, teeth bared, locked in brutal combat. I lunged toward them, slamming into the Beta and giving my father a second’s reprieve. We fought side by side, as we always had—two wolves, one bond.

But they kept coming.

We were surrounded.

Three more Night Walkers circled us. I fought until my muscles screamed, until I could barely stand. A massive wolf tore into my hind leg. Pain lit up my body. I barely registered the blood soaking the earth beneath me.

I turned—where was my father?

And then I saw.

The Beta had him pinned.

“No!”

I threw myself forward—but it was too late.

With a vicious snap, the Beta tore out my father's throat.

The sound will haunt me forever. That final gasp. That final beat of his heart.

He fell still.

I didn’t remember how I ended up on the ground. The world tilted and shrank and bled. A pair of Night Walkers held me down as I thrashed, screaming, shifting, clawing.

But nothing could undo what I had just witnessed.

The Beta approached me—massive, cold-eyed, reeking of victory. He looked down at me like I was already dead.

“There is no Alpha now,” he said. “You are rogues. You live because we allow it.”

And then he left.

Just like that.

They vanished into the trees, leaving only ruin behind.

I crawled to my father’s body, blood matting my knees as I sank beside him. The world was quiet now. Too quiet.

My hands trembled as I brushed fur from his face.

“Forgive me,” I whispered. “I wasn’t ready.”

Tears fell, hot and fast. For my father. For my pack. For myself.

But through the grief, something dark and sharp began to rise.

A vow.

A fire.

I will rebuild. I will rise.

And one day, the Night Walkers will fall by my hand.

Even if it kills me.

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