Alpha of Ashes

CAELAN'S POV

Varek was dead.

His blood had stained the soil of Crescent Vale, and with it, years of tyranny had finally come to an end. Now, it was my time-my right-to step into the light and claim the title I had been born for: Alpha of the Crescent Vale Pack.

For most of my life, I hadn't even known who I truly was. I had grown up in a modest home, tucked away in the outskirts of a rogue-controlled territory, with parents who weren't mine by blood. They were kind people, in their own way, offering shelter and food, but the bond we shared never ran deep. I was just a boy they had been asked to raise, and somehow, even before I learned the truth, I had always felt like a misplaced puzzle piece-like I belonged somewhere else entirely.

The night the Moon Goddess revealed my true heritage changed everything.

I still remember that night vividly. The stars were unusually bright, and the air hummed with a strange energy. I'd had a vision-one so clear it jolted me out of my sleep. I saw a palace, grand and regal, burning to the ground. A wolf cloaked in shadows stood over the corpses of a king and queen. And then I saw myself-much younger-being carried away into the darkness by a woman cloaked in a crimson shawl.

That woman saved my life. She had risked everything to get me out of the palace before Varek's men stormed the gates and slaughtered my parents.

I was the rightful heir of Crescent Vale. Varek had forcefully taken over after deploying spies into my family's inner circle, and when the time was right, he orchestrated their murders. The kingdom fell into chaos, and in the bloodshed, I was hidden and later given away-adopted by strangers, stripped of my name, my identity, my legacy.

The years that followed were a descent into darkness. Life was as pitiful as it came-slaving under cruel masters, witnessing unspeakable horrors. Young women, barely more than children, were given away like cattle to satisfy the twisted desires of rogue wolves. Innocents were slaughtered without cause. Misery hung over the land like a suffocating fog.

I was only a boy when I first tried to stand up to one of my masters-my foster mother had fallen ill, and he refused to let her rest. I went to beg for her release, and that was when the vision returned-stronger, more insistent. It showed me who I was. Who I was meant to be.

That moment birthed the fire within me.

Thankfully, I wasn't alone. There were others like me-wolves who remembered the old ways, who had suffered under Varek's brutal reign and had had enough. Slowly, we formed the beginnings of a rebellion. Small, fragile, and easily snuffed out if discovered. But determined.

Over the years, we grew in number. We trained in secret, gathered intelligence, and sharpened both our minds and our claws. I met people who would shape the course of my destiny.

Elda, the oldest and wisest among us, was the first. She was the heartbeat of the rebellion. Gifted by the Moon Goddess herself, Elda had the power of foresight and healing. Her visions often guided us, helping us avoid capture more times than I could count. When our first ambush against Varek failed-and we lost a third of our fighters-it was Elda who held us together. She crafted protective totems and chanted spells of concealment to keep us hidden from Varek's dark magic. Whatever demonic power he communed with was strong-unnatural. Without her, we wouldn't have survived.

Then there were my comrades, my brothers in arms.

Malric-head of our army and my childhood friend-had always been a fighter. He trained us all, pushed us beyond our limits, demanded excellence. Even the weakest among us could now stand their ground against him for a solid fifteen minutes, which was no small feat. He had a temper but a loyal heart. I trusted him with my life.

Ashir was different. Where Malric was fire, Ashir was ice. Calculated. Methodical. A master of strategy and manipulation. He joined us later, but his impact was immediate. It was Ashir who uncovered Varek's plan to destroy a neighboring village-a classic move to crush smaller packs and absorb their strength. Ashir developed the counterattack that turned the tide in our favor. Every step we took was measured, deliberate, and effective.

And then there was Thalia.

The moment I laid eyes on her, something in me shifted. She wasn't the fiercest warrior-her strikes were clumsy at first, her footwork off-but she was brilliant. Strategic in ways I hadn't anticipated. She was quiet but observant, and her insights during training sessions often saved us hours of trial and error. Over time, we grew closer. Her laughter softened my edges. Her touch reminded me I was still human-still worthy of love.

She supported me from the beginning. In moments of doubt, she reminded me of who I was. When the others questioned my choices, she stood by me. It didn't take long before I realized I wanted her by my side-not just in battle, but always. And now, with the war behind us and the crown mine, she will stand as my Luna.

Everyone has embraced our union. Everyone but Elda.

She's never voiced outright disapproval, but I've seen it in her eyes-the hesitation, the hidden warnings in her cryptic words. It used to gnaw at me, but it's one old woman's opinion against the will of an entire pack. I've made my choice. I only hope she learns to accept it.

The war itself had been swift but brutal.

Malric led the first wave. Our warriors fought like demons unleashed, every move honed by years of training and loss. Ashir's traps decimated the flanks of Varek's army. Elda, hidden deep within the forest, performed ancient rituals to weaken his protective enchantments. And I... I led from the front. I met every enemy with steel and claw. I carved a path through blood and bone until I reached Varek himself.

We fought beneath the light of a blood moon. He recognized me immediately.

"You look like your father," he had sneered, even as his body bled from a dozen wounds. "He begged for your life."

And then I ended his.

It's been less than a month since I was crowned Alpha, but already Crescent Vale is changing.

The skies seem clearer, the forest more vibrant. Laughter echoes through the village again. Children run freely. The scent of fresh bread and roasted meat fills the air. People look me in the eye when they speak. I have seen their relief, their joy, their renewed hope.

It's not just my doing-it's the work of every rebel who believed in me. But I won't deny the pride that swells in my chest when I walk through the town square and hear them call me Alpha.

Still, peace doesn't come without its shadows.

During a recent meeting with Alpha Garron of the Stone Ridge Clan, I learned a disturbing truth-there are rogue spies still among us. Disguised. Blending in. Waiting.

Elda has been instrumental in rooting them out, her visions sharp despite the toll the war has taken on her. But her magic is fading. She grows weaker with each passing day. I pretend not to notice, but it's hard to ignore the tremble in her hands or the way she coughs after a simple spell.

Malric and I have dealt with the traitors swiftly. No trial. No mercy.

The Crescent Vale Pack will never again fall into the hands of rogues-not while I still draw breath.

I will protect this land. I will honor the memory of my parents. I will guide my people toward a future free of fear.

This is my vow.

And if anyone threatens what we've built, they will find themselves on the wrong side of my blade.