Chapter 1 The Alpha's Blood

Kaela Ironclaw was born under an omen, She was born under the Wolf Moon eclipse, a night when the sky bled crimson, and the Moon Goddess cloaked the stars in silence. The seers of the Ironclaw Pack fell to their knees. They whispered of an heir touched by prophecy. Not a son, but a daughter. A she-wolf with the heart of an Alpha and the spirit of a storm. Kaela was bound by legacy.

From the moment she took her first breath, Her father, Alpha Ronan Ironclaw, didn't rejoice. He ruled the Ironclaw Pack with an iron fist and colder heart. He was a warrior-king who bowed to no one, not even the Council of Elders. To him, prophecy was a weakness. Destiny was what a true Alpha made with his own claws, not what a girl was gifted by stars.

But her mother, Luna Seraphine, believed. She held her newborn daughter close and named her Kaela meaning "blessed flame" in the old tongue. Seraphine saw in her the rebirth of something ancient, a bloodline not only meant to follow but to rule.

As Luna, Seraphine had balanced Ronan's harshness with mercy.

Kaela grew up caught between two storms. Alpha Ronan taught her to fight, harsh training, endless battles in the ring with boys twice her size. Pain was a lesson and Obedience a law. He raised her like a soldier, not a daughter.

Luna Seraphine, unlike the alpha Ronan who barked orders and honed blades, guided Kaela with gentler power. She taught her to listen and not to command, but to the rhythms of the forest, the language of the wind, the unspoken wisdom carried in a wolf's howl, and the sacred pull of the Moon. With every whispered tale, Seraphine peeled back the veil of forgotten truth, revealing stories that had been buried by centuries of patriarchal rule. Tales of Luna-born daughters with fire in their veins. Of warrior queens who led packs into glory. Of Luna Alphas who ruled not beside their mates, but above them. Of fierce women who challenged the council, chose love over law and sparked rebellions that echoed through time. Through these stories, Seraphine planted a seed in Kaela, a knowing that she came from a legacy far older and stronger than the laws that sought to bind her. "Your blood carries more than his name" Seraphine would whisper, combing Kaela's hair beneath the starlight. You are the daughter of a storm and a flame. Don't let anyone make you forget that.

Seraphine was the heartbeat of the pack until she died and when she died, something in Ronan broke or hardened.

Kaela was only twelve when they brought her mother's broken body back from a border. A border patrol mission had gone wrong. They told her rogues ambushed the Luna, slaughtered her guard, and left her lifeless near the Darkfang River.

Kaela shifted for the first time. Alone. Her cries echoed through the forest like the mourning howl of a forgotten god.

Alpha Ronan didn't shed a single tear, Instead, he returned from the battlefield bloodied and silent, burned Seraphine's sacred grove and declared three days of silence in her honor.

Since then, Kaela had trained harder than any Ironclaw warrior. Her body was shaped by combat and her heart by grief.

From that moment, Kaela stopped being a daughter. She became a weapon. But her father never looked at her the same again.

You are not her, he had once said, voice sharp as a blade and you will never be Alpha.

By eighteen, she had become the pack's strongest female warrior. No male dared to mock her strength not when she broke arms in training and bested sons of elders in every spar. But strength was not enough. Alpha Ronan still denied her a seat in council. Still refused to name her heir.

You were born to serve beside a true Alpha, he would say. Not to be one.

And yet, no male had ever earned the pack's loyalty the way Kaela did.

She remembered those words every time she walked past his father's council hall, the same room where decisions were made without her, where young males were groomed to lead while she stood on the outside looking in.

Now, at twenty-two, Kaela stood on the edge of a life carved by tradition, a life where her bloodline was both a weapon and a chain. The Council planned to announce her betrothal during the Solstice Gathering. A union arranged not by love, but politics. Ronan said it was her duty. She called it betrayal.

Kaela's jaw clenched.

I will not be given to anyone, she said suddenly.

Every elder turned.

Ronan didn't. He merely spoke, calm and cold. You will do what is expected. As your mother did.

My mother chose to stand by you. She wasn't bartered like cattle.

The room grew heavy.

The oldest of the elders, cleared his throat. Kaela, you are of noble blood. Your duty..

My duty is to this pack," she interrupted, stepping forward, voice clear. "I train your warriors. I patrol our borders. I fight, bleed, and kill for Ironclaw. I deserve more than a decorative title beside a man I didn't choose."

Ronan's fist slammed against the stone table.

You speak as if the Moon Goddess made a mistake giving you a womb instead of a sword.

Kaela didn't flinch. Maybe She gave me both.

For a heartbeat, silence reigned.

Then Ronan stood, towering above her. You shame your mother's memory.

Kaela's voice trembled not from fear, but rage. You shame it every day you treat her daughter like a pawn. Kaela responded.

They locked eyes Alpha and heir, father and daughter. Neither backed down.

That night, she walked the edge of the Ironclaw forest, drawn to her mother's old grove long since regrown, wild and untamed. Moonlight filtered through the trees, painting silver across the petals of untouched wolfsbane and ghost orchids.

She knelt at the roots of a white ash tree, the last place she had seen her mother pray.

I wish you were here, she whispered. He only sees me as a threat not as his daughter.

The wind shifted. A scent drifted toward her, pine, steel and blood.

A soft sound made Kaela look up.

A pair of glowing green eyes stared at her from the grove's edge.

She rose slowly. Who is there?"

A figure stepped from the darkness, cloaked, broad-shouldered. Not a stranger. Thane, her father's enforcer. Loyal to Ronan since before Kaela's birth.

What are you doing here? Kaela asked, narrowing her eyes.

Thane didn't answer. Instead, he held out a parchment.

Kaela took it.

A single line was scrawled across it in unfamiliar handwriting: "Your mother didn't die by rogues".

Her blood ran cold.

What is this, she demanded.

But Thane was already gone, vanishing into the trees like mist.

Kaela stared at the message, heart pounding.

If her mother wasn't killed by rogues.

Then who?

And why?

The Moon above seemed to whisper secrets through the leaves.

Kaela's fingers curled around the parchment as her wolf growled low.

The truth had claws and Kaela was ready to dig.