The Alpha's bane

he firelight. A chill swept through the clearing, carrying with it the scent of decay, of something old and wrong. The fes

d to. He knew. It had come for him. The presence took a step forward, the ground beneath it darkening as if rejecting its existence. The fire nearest to it fl

ounded. The shadows swirled, shifting, growing. The presence wasn't attacking-but it didn't need to. It was reminding him. Reminding the pack. That their Alpha was not just a leader. He was cursed. A scream cut through the silence. Azriel's head snapped toward the sound. A young girl stood frozen, her eyes wide in terror as tendrils of darkness slithered toward her, drawn to her small frame like smoke to fire. Move. His instincts roared. He surged forward, faster than thought, his body a blur as h

-" "I'm

nds trembling. Her mother rushed forward, scooping her up and holding her tight. "Thank you, Alpha," she whispered. But her eyes-like so many others in the crowd-were laced with something more than gratitude. Fear. Azriel exhaled slowly, straightening. His pack had always revered him. Respected him. But tonight, he had seen the truth. They feared him. And maybe... they were right to. --- After the Festival The celebration didn't resume. The

watchin

cient oak, bathed in silver moonlight. Her golden eyes met his, unreadable yet piercing. For a long moment, neither of them

d ans

the night. Maybe it was the lingering burn of the curse in his veins. Or maybe... i