❝ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇᴡᴏʟꜰ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀɪᴇꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴜꜱᴜᴀʟʟʏ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴀɴ ᴀʟᴘʜᴀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴍᴇɢᴀ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡᴀꜱɴ'ᴛ?❞
For generations, the Blood Moon Pack and Grave Shadow Pack have been at war, the werewolves from each side bearing high tensions and malicious in...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Cyrus should've seen that coming.
As he reels back from Luna's slap, the imprint of her cool ghost hand searing into his cheek like dry ice, he instinctively straightens his legs out. His knees threaten to cave in, but it's a flicker of a moment. As a show of strength, he must stand, his feet rooted to the floor. He refuses to be knocked down.
But he will still comply.
Only because Luna is Luna.
Grace, who remains by his side, is quick to heal his face. Her delicate fingers glow blue across his fresh bruise and the burning pain evaporates into thin air. Once he offers her a murmur of thanks, he turns his attention back to the goddess standing in front of the spiky glass throne that towers above them.
"My bad," he says. "I guess it's not terrible to be a little girl if you're a strong little girl."
"I am approximately two centuries older than you," Luna booms, her voice reverberating throughout the grand ballroom. Fading into the background, the ghost hand she had summoned earlier gets dismissed. "You forget yourself in front of me."
Cyrus's brows shoot up. "Well shit, you look really young for a–"
"I'm talking now."
A hush settles over everyone. Then, with suspended breath, they watch as Luna descends the crystal staircase that hosts her throne. Every step she takes is made with purpose while an air of confidence emanates from her presence. Her chilling gaze glazes over them, but ultimately lands on two top alphas in particular.
Cyrus and Jax.
She's down at floor level now when she approaches them.
For a moment that stretches out like an eternity, she studies them with calculating blue eyes, her chin tilted up to match their stares. She's a foot shorter than them, but there's an uncanny intensity to the way she holds herself. In this weird staring contest, Cyrus tries to not blink or else he may, uh, lose?
He doesn't really know what he's doing. All he knows is that she's right here, real and in the flesh.
"Jax Sterling," she addresses, turning to the other alpha first. "Leader of Grave Shadow. Conqueror of Lumare and Frosthide."
Her head rotates to meet Cyrus next. "Cyrus Pierce. Leader of Blood Moon. Conqueror of Slay Saber and Hellhounds."
Behind them, all of the other top alphas from Lumare, Frosthide, Slay Saber, and Hellbounds remain stunned witnesses to this monumental scene. In this one instance, no one dares to inch a muscle.
