Chapter 2 Chapter 2
POV Lysander
Six months earlier…
I could barely believe what I was seeing. An arrow that seemed to come from nowhere had struck Mathew, the Alpha of Fangaria and my father.
—Father! —my throat tore apart as the cry escaped my lips when I saw him fall from his horse.
I ran toward him as fast as I could, dropping to my knees at his side. All I could do was carefully turn him over, watching him struggle to breathe, barely conscious. The arrow had pierced his body; I knew I had to remove it so the healing could begin, so I broke off the back end and pulled it through his back.
However, the moment my skin brushed against the metal tip, I knew it was no ordinary arrow. That metal was pure silver. The mere touch of it harmed us, but once it entered our bloodstream, it was not only dangerous—it was lethal. It poisoned us within seconds, causing our entire bodies to begin breaking down.
That alone was terrible, but unfortunately it was not the only thing coating the arrow. It had been varnished with a kind of oil that released a scent far too distinctive not to recognize. Since childhood, we had been taught to avoid that plant at all costs because of how dangerous it was: aconite.
—You’ll be fine, Father. I’ll take you home. You’ll survive, I swear it —I told him desperately, needing him to believe it.
I couldn’t stop myself from crying like a small child, because deep down I knew it would not be so.
Instead, my father offered me a faint smile, lifting one of his hands to touch my face. Blood continued to flow, not only from his wound but even staining his lips. He seemed to want to say something, desperate to do so, but in the end the severity of his injury was stronger and stole his life before he could.
I cried and begged for help from Mother Nature, from the Moon, or from anyone who might hear me, but it was useless. It was already too late.
At that moment, all I could do was lift my head and let out a deep howl that tore from my throat.
When we arrived at the palace, Clarissa, my mother, hurried out to meet us. She watched as her husband’s body was lowered from the horse with the help of a couple of servants. The sight of the man she loved, lifeless, was impossible for her to accept; the pure pain was evident on her face.
It felt like a terrible dream, and yet we knew it was not. Her heart had just shattered into pieces, she knew it well, and still she remained standing. That strength was something I had to recognize and deeply admire.
We had no time to cry or mourn his loss—not when his death was a clear act of war against our people. All my mother could do was approach him, take his hand carefully while shuddering at how cold it felt, and remove from it the ring bearing the royal seal.
—The Alpha is dead —she announced loudly, making sure everyone heard.
—Long live the Alpha —she continued, turning around to stand directly in front of me.
—Kneel —she asked, trying to maintain her composure, though for me it was nearly impossible in that moment.
I barely understood what was happening, and yet I did as she asked, watching as my mother handed me my father’s ring. A symbol of royalty, of his power within the pack, and the symbolic transfer of authority to me.
—Long live the Alpha —she repeated, raising her voice before all who had gathered around us.
The news quickly spread throughout the castle and the entire kingdom. Now I was king. The Alpha.
—I promise you I will avenge my father’s death. His murderer will not go unpunished —I assured her, looking straight into her eyes so she would know I spoke the truth.
—Who? Who would be capable of killing him? —she asked, unable to fully believe it.
No, not when he had been one of the strongest and most powerful men she knew. A pure-blooded alpha wolf. I knew it too.
—Unfortunately, I have no proof, but I have no doubts either. I know exactly who did this: Dominic Stone, the King of Arkavia —I stated with the certainty born from knowing our history.
—No matter what I must do, I swear his blood will stain our land —I declared with a voice colder than I had ever known.
—No, my son. Not vengeance. I do not want that kind of poison inside you —she pleaded, knowing such feelings would only corrupt and destroy me.
—I’m afraid it’s already too late, because that is all that flows through my veins right now —I told her bitterly.
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Even with war looming over our heads, my father was laid to rest with all the honors a man of his status deserved, though swiftly. He had to be placed in the royal crypt before the battle began. Unfortunately, there was no time to mourn him as we should have.
My spies at the border were clear: the news had also spread throughout Arkavia. The great and powerful King Mathew Rowan was dead, and the one who seemed most pleased was Dominic Stone. The King of Arkavia was well known for his cruelty and his love of war, so much so that he had sought it relentlessly since taking the throne.
—Mathew Rowan is dead, the wolves have lost their alpha. War is near, and this time the final victory will be ours —his words were repeated before his soldiers.
That same afternoon, the catapults were positioned along the border between our kingdoms and activated with the clear intention of weakening my realm.
—By order of the Alpha —shouted one of my father’s counselors, now mine.
—This is war! —I declared without a single doubt.
