The Black Wolf

Prologue

Dearest gentle reader, this is not your typical tale of an Omega falling in love with an Alpha and becoming Luna. This is no fairytale. You are about to step into a world brimming with werewolves, fallen gods, demons, trapped souls, and magic unlike any other.

In this realm of wolves and wonder, every pack is bound to ancient myths, unique traits, or elemental forces. Each Alpha carries within them a Heartstone, a sentient crystal embedded near the heart. It holds their power, memory, and spirit.

When an Alpha dies, the Heartstone vanishes and reappears in the chest of their successor, either by the will of the Heartstone itself or seized through conquest. Yet if the chosen is unworthy, the Heartstone may resist them, or worse, destroy them.

Among these many packs was one known as Sable Howl, steeped in legends of the moon and black wolves. It was in this pack that a girl was born to a common werewolf named Malrik.

He named her Vireya, meaning 'Wild beauty' for she was breathtakingly unlike any other, one would say she was crafted out of the moon itself. Though Vireya lost her mother at a tender age, she was deeply loved by all. They ensured the weight of her loss never fully reached her heart.

She grew into a vision admired by every man and envied by many women. Young men, enchanted by her charm, vowed to claim her as their mate once she turned eighteen and her wolf emerged, bond or no bond.

She was lavished with gifts and affections, none more persistent than Rhydan, the Alpha's son. It was widely believed he would be the one to mark her.

Vireya's life was blissful, until the night she turned eighteen, and the darkness came for her...

Chapter 1: The Full Moon Birthday

Vireya's POV

I stirred awake to the soft hum of activity coming from the living room. Groaning, I pulled a pillow over my head, reluctant to leave the warmth of my bed, until a sudden realization jolted me upright.

It's my birthday, my eighteenth birthday. A smile broke across my face as excitement surged through me. Without a second thought, I sprang out of bed and padded into the living room.

There, Siora, our ever-dutiful omega, was busy arranging boxes and baskets, her small frame bustling with energy.

"What are all these?" I asked, wide-eyed.

"Oh, finally you're awake!" she chirped, barely glancing up. "What do you think they are? Gifts, of course! It's your birthday, and half the young men in the pack have sent something."

I blinked, taking in the mountain of packages scattered across the room. "Wow," I breathed, a soft laugh escaping me.

Siora turned to me with a knowing smile. "Rhydan sent quite a lot, my dear."

My lips curved. Of course he did. Rhydan, the Alpha's son, has been watching me closely for moons now, hopeful that the fates will bind us as mates.

We began opening the parcels together, revealing an array of elegant dresses, sparkling jewelry, delicate shoes, and all manner of beautiful things. It was overwhelming, in the most delightful way.

By noon, I was readying myself for the banquet at the castle. After all, tonight wasn't just my coming-of-age, it was also a full moon. A blessing, some would say, a sign of fate, others might whisper.

I chose one of Rhydan's gifts, a breathtaking emerald ball gown that shimmered as I moved, its silken fabric trailing gracefully with every step.

The bodice hugged my figure like it was made just for me, and I adorned my dark hair with delicate gold clips that caught the light. When I glanced at my reflection, even I had to pause. I looked... enchanting.

When Father returned home, his eyes lit up with pride, and, as always, he showered me with praises. But we left before him, eager to reach the castle on time.

Siora and I arrived just after lunch had begun. The great hall was alive with chatter and clinking forks, but as soon as I stepped inside, silence rippled through the hall like a wave.

All eyes turned to me, some widened. My beauty had always drawn attention, but sometimes it felt less like a gift... and more like a burden I had to carry.

Rhydan caught my eye and waved, gesturing to the seat saved beside him. I walked toward the table with measured grace, fully aware of the gazes following my every move. Siora slipped away to join the other omegas as I took my place beside Rhydan.

He leaned forward and took my hand gently, brushing his lips over my knuckles. "You're as stunning as ever, Vireya," he murmured.

"You're too kind," I replied with a polite smile.

"I can't wait for your wolf to emerge," he said. "When it does, I'll make you my Luna. The other males will lose their minds, and I might have to start a few fights."

I laughed softly. "Oh please..."

But my amusement faltered when I looked across the hall and met his eyes. Sevarion. For a moment, the world around me faded, Rhydan's voice became a distant hum.

Sevarion and I held each other's stare, locked in a wordless exchange that lasted only seconds but felt like lifetimes. I blinked and looked away, but my heart betrayed me with a restless flutter.

Every time I saw him, I felt it, that strange sensation in my chest, familiarity, curiosity, longing. As though I knew him from a dream I couldn't remember.

Sevarion had joined our pack a few years ago, though no one knew from where. He kept to himself, always quiet and alone. Yet he was impossible to ignore.

Tall, with broad shoulders and a sculpted frame. His jaw was sharp, his cheekbones noble, and his rare green eyes gleamed with something ancient. He looked like a god carved from moonlight and shadows.

The only time we ever spoke was months ago, when I tripped near the brook. He caught me before I hit the ground, and the sound of his voice, deep and smooth, stilled every breath in my lungs.

Since then, he's kept his distance. Unlike the others who hovered near me like moths to flame, Sevarion never tried to win my attention.

And yet... tonight, I could've sworn I saw a flicker in his eyes, a flash of something like jealousy. Or maybe I was imagining it.

"Are you okay?" Rhydan's voice snapped me out of the trance Sevarion's gaze had cast over me.

"Huh? Yes... I'm okay," I murmured, offering him a quick smile I didn't quite feel.

After lunch, Rhydan wanted me to stay longer, to walk the castle gardens or share a drink. But I declined politely, promising I'd meet him at the arena when the full moon reached its peak.

Once home, I collapsed into bed and drifted into a shallow nap. When it was time, I dressed in something simple and warm, tucking an extra coat beneath my arm. I knew I would need it once the shift was over.

The arena buzzed with excitement as the games concluded. I arrived with my father, my heart pounding in my chest. Tonight was the night I would shift for the first time, and everyone was waiting for it.

The air felt thick with magic, the full moon shining like a silver eye overhead. Others who were shifting for the first time began their transformations. Bones cracked, bodies twisted, and their wolves emerged one by one with triumphant howls.

But I just stood there, silent. I had never heard my wolf speak to me, not once, she had never answered, even when I whispered to her. Yet I could feel her now, she was stirring.

Rhydan watched me with pride and hunger in his gaze, his arms folded as though already certain of the majesty I would reveal. Around us, all eyes burned into my skin, waiting.

Then it happened. A snap, sharp and sudden ripped through my body. I screamed as pain surged through me like fire. My bones cracked, my spine twisted, my fingers bent into claws. Every nerve ignited with agony.

It was nothing like the stories. I felt myself pulled under, drowning in the storm of the transformation. It was like being caged in my body, watching through someone else's eyes, helpless.

My wolf had taken over, and she wasn't calm. With a violent snarl, she lunged, tearing into someone near us injuring their wolf, screams echoed through the arena. Then another figure was thrown to the ground, mauled beneath her fury. My wolf was on a rampage, panic erupted like wildfire.

"Please stop!" I cried through the mind-link, desperate. "Please listen to me!"

She didn't hear me, or she didn't care.

"Vireya!" My father's voice rang in my head. "Vireya, try to control it! You can control it!"

I tried. Moon above, I tried, but I had no reins, no power, I was a prisoner in my own mind.

Then I felt it, my wolf's claws slicing deep, blood splattered across the stone floor, the world seemed to slow.

Gasps filled the air, when my wolf turned, my soul shattered. My father lay in a pool of blood, unmoving.

Vireya's POV

"Vireya... what have you done?" Rhydan's voice tore through the chaos.

My wolf turneds toward him about to attack. Rhydan's eyes were wide, filled with disbelief and something dangerously close to fear.

"She's cursed!" a woman shrieked from the crowd.

Their words echoed in my skull, but nothing registered. My ears rang with the remnants of screams and growls.

I didn't even know how to shift back, until it happened on its own. The pain of bones reshaping, of fur tearing away from skin, left me trembling on the ground, gasping for air naked.

The arena was silent, they were all gone. My father's lifeless body lay in a pool of blood.

"No... no, no, no..." My voice cracked as I crawled to him, dragging my shaking limbs through the blood-soaked dirt.

My wolf's claws had torn through his throat.

"Father... please," I choked, pressing my hands to the wound, as if I could undo the nightmare. His skin was cold, far too cold.

Sobbing, I wrapped my arms around his body. My cries tore through the air, raw and unrestrained, as if my soul had splintered.

He was all I had left in this world. After my mother passed, it had been just us, and now, my hands, my claws, had taken him from me.

His blood stained my skin. I didn't care that I was naked, I didn't care that they had all fled from me like I was a monster. Because maybe they were right.

Then I heard footsteps. My heart thudded painfully in my chest as I turned, bracing myself for more judgment, but it was Zevarion holding the extra coat I had hidden beneath the old oak tree, something I'd left there just in case I shifted.

His gaze met mine, but he didn't flinch. He didn't look at me like I was cursed.

"Please..." I whispered, my voice thick with tears. "Don't come closer. I don't want to hurt you."

Zevarion didn't stop, he stepped closer from behind, and gently draped the coat around my bare shoulders, shielding me from the cold. Then he gently pulled my father from me.

"No," I whimpered, clutching my father's hand. "Don't take him. Please."

"I need to take him to the cold house... before you decide what comes next," Zevarion said gently.

Tears blurred my vision again, my body trembled. "How could this happen?" I whispered, more to myself than him.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I truly am."

He lifted my father's corpse as if it weighed nothing, cradling him across his shoulders. I followed, numb, dragging my feet, blood drying against my skin.

As we walked through the pack grounds, silence spread like a disease. Curtains were drawn, doors slammed shut, their whispers followed me like ghosts.

"Cursed."

"A black wolf... a death omen."

I kept my eyes on the back of Zevarion's broad shoulders. We reached the cold house, a place where the dead waited for burial.

Zevarion laid my father down gently, treating him with the dignity no one else would offer. He handled the proceedings, making sure everything was in order.

And I just sat there, silent. The world moved around me, but I was frozen in that one moment in the arena.

The grief hadn't even begun to settle, the shock hadn't let go. After he was done with the proceedings, Zevarion turned to me, "Let me walk you home."

I nodded numbly. The journey back was a blur, I barely noticed the cold air brushing against my skin or the way the world seemed to shrink away from me.

When we reached my doorstep, I paused. "Thank you," I muttered, not meeting his eyes.

I slipped inside before he could answer. The moment the door shut behind me, I bolted to my room. I stood before the mirror, trembling.

"Come out!" I screamed. My voice cracked. "Come out, damn you!"

But there was no answer.

"You're supposed to be my wolf companion! My protector! How could you, how could you kill him?" My breath came in ragged sobs. "You monster... You coward! Show yourself!"

My wolf didn't speak. It was like she'd buried herself deep inside me, ashamed, or worse... indifferent.

I collapsed to the floor, broken and breathless, tears searing down my cheeks. I curled into myself, praying that this was all a nightmare, that I'd wake up and find my father humming in the kitchen, that the arena had never happened, that my wolf had never emerged.

But the moonlight outside my window glared down in silent accusation. I stared up at it, hollow-eyed.

"Why?" I whispered. "Why would you curse me?"

The night passed in fragments, tears, silence, rage. At some point, I must've fallen asleep on the floor.

When the morning light crept through my window, I stirred, blinking into the brightness. My head pounded, then it all came rushing back. The blood. The screams. It hit like a tidal wave, dragging me under all over again.

I forced myself to stand, weak and shivering. As I turned toward the mirror, something caught my eye, just for a moment.

My wolf was there, but not like any I'd ever seen, she was massive, jet black, darker than night, darker than death itself. Her eyes burned like fire, vivid orange flames dancing in a soulless void.

I screamed and stumbled backward, crashing to the floor, my heart pounding like war drums.

When I dared to look again, she was gone. Only my own reflection stared back, shaken. What are you? I thought, clutching my chest.

What curse have I inherited?

I stepped outside and saw Siora carrying a small sack slung over her shoulder. The moment her eyes met mine, she froze, then stumbled backward, her face pale with terror.

"Please... please don't hurt me!" she cried fleeing before I could say a word.

My heart cracked. Siora had worked for our family since Mother died, I had always seen her as a sister. Seeing her flinch from me made it all too real, I was a monster in their eyes now.

I wandered into the village, hoping... praying that someone might help, but everywhere I went, doors slammed shut.

Children were pulled away by fearful mothers, men turned their backs, eyes followed me like daggers.

I made my way to the castle, hoping Rhydan would help me bury my father, but he refused to come out.

Rejected, I returned home, and dragged out the Hand-wain from the shed, the one we used for firewood and harvests.

At the cold house, the man gently lifted my father's body into it, scared of me staying there for long.

I pushed the cart through the village, the iron wheels rattling over stones. More whispers followed, I kept my head down until I felt someone take hold of the cart.

It was Zevarion. He said nothing as he guided the grave cart toward the eastern hill, where the gravestones nestled among the heather. He took us to the one place I could barely bear to look at, the resting place of my mother.

Among werewolves, it was tradition, husbands and wives were buried side by side, so their souls might run together in the afterlife.

I sat on a stone, while Zevarion dug the grave. My hands trembled in my lap as I stared at the patch of earth.

When we finished, I stood before the raw earth that now held the only man who had ever loved me unconditionally. Shame sealed my lips.

"I hope you forgive me, Father," I finally whispered. "I never meant to hurt you."

Tears traced down my cheeks, burning hot. Zevarion knelt beside me and wordlessly offered a handful of wildflowers. He placed them gently by the grave, his head bowed.

By the time I reached home, my soul felt splintered. The silence of the house, once a place of warmth, now rang with unbearable emptiness.

I wandered through each room, touching the walls like they might still hold his voice, his laughter, but it was gone. I collapsed in the hall and wept until there were no tears left, only a dull, aching numbness.

Maybe someone would knock. Maybe Rhydan would come sympathise with me, or Siora, but no one came. I waited until evening came, even the gods seemed to have turned their backs on me.

I wiped my cheeks, drew a deep breath, and rose. There was nothing left for me here, nothing but memories and emptiness.

I found a length of rope and tied it to the ceiling beam in our sitting room, just beneath the carved moon crest my father made with his own hands. I tugged it twice, to make sure it would hold.

Then I dragged the old stool into place. My heartbeat echoed like thunder in my ears, I took one final breath. One last prayer to the Moon Goddess, that she might have mercy, and let me see him again.

I looped the rope around my neck, the coarse fibers biting into my skin, and I stepped off the stool.

Pain crushed my windpipe. My hands flew to the rope, instinct fighting against my will, the edges of the room blurred.

And in those final moments, I thought of my father's smile, of what I might say, if the goddess granted me the chance.

The world blurred, my fingers went limp, and then, nothing but the dark.

Vireya's POV

I gasped, my eyes snapping open.

Darkness swallowed the room, but I quickly realized, this wasn't heaven. I was still in our living room. Alive.

My trembling hands flew to my neck, fingertips brushing the raw, bruised skin where the rope had been. I looked up, the wooden beam was splintered, the rope severed and dangling. That rope was too thick to break from my weight alone. I scanned the room. Nothing, no scent, no sound, no sign that anyone had entered.

A shaky breath escaped my lips as I clutched my pounding head. I staggered to my feet, guided only by the pale moonlight spilling through the window. My body felt like lead, weak, empty, and starving, my throat burned with dryness.

I stumbled into the kitchen and drank water. I set the cup down, and that's when it happened. A sharp, agonizing crack split through my bones, my knees buckled. No. Not again.

I screamed as the shift overtook me, my bones twisting, reshaping, skin tearing. The black wolf emerged, ruthless and wild, trapping my soul behind its eyes.

She shoved the door open and bolted into the night, chaos erupted. Screams pierced the air as we charged down the street, faces blurred past us, terrified, fleeing. I begged her to stop, to turn back, but I was a prisoner in my own body.

Then she lunged at a child, a small pup frozen in fear.

"No!" I screamed inside. "Please don't hurt him!"

The boy's scream shattered the night. Just then, a stone came flying through the air, striking my wolf's side, her focus snapped away.

The crowd scattered. Within seconds, the street was deserted, silent but for the sound of my wolf's ragged breaths and my soul crying out from within her.

After what felt like an eternity, the wolf receded. I shifted and collapsed onto the cold street, naked and trembling. I dragged myself to my feet, tears streaming, and ran back home.

Straight to the kitchen. Straight to the knife, I grabbed it with shaking hands, lifted it to my chest, but the wolf surged within me and slammed my body against the wall.

I gasped, crumpling to the floor. I tried again. And again. Each time, she stopped me, by force. Tossing me across the room. We battled each other all night. When the sun finally rose, my body was covered in cuts and bruises.

Still, I stood, somehow. I wanted to apologize, to face the people, to take responsibility, but just as I reached the door, the enforcers arrived.

They didn't come close. Even armored and trained enforcers were scared of me, they kept their distance. Hands twitching near their weapons.

"The Alpha summons you," one of them said. "You are to present yourself at the castle."

I didn't wait for them, I walked ahead. As I passed through the village, their words sharpened, bolder this time.

"She's cursed. Black as night."

"They should exile her before she slaughters more of us."

"Too beautiful to be trusted... that's how demons hide in plain sight."

Then, thud. A stone hit my shoulder hard. I didn't flinch or stop, my soul was already too torn to feel one more bruise.

When I reached the castle, several wolves shadowed me, staying at a safe distance. I knelt before the gates, silent, head bowed.

I waited. One hour. Two. Finally, the Beta emerged, face twisted with disgust.

"The Alpha will not see you," he barked. "The heartstone rejects your presence. You are not welcome here. Leave!"

I rose on trembling legs and turned back, the walk home was worse. Stones, garbage, curses, rained down on me like a storm.

I kept praying under my breath, begging the wolf within not to rise again, not here or now. I didn't want to become their nightmare.

"I always knew no ordinary werewolf could look like that," a woman spat. "She's using her beauty to bewitch us, to kill us like she did to her father."

Her words hit harder than the stones, so I stopped walking. Slowly, I turned, searching for the one who'd said it, but they had already fled, too frightened to face me.

Cowards.

I made it home, barely. Once again, I tried to end my life. Once again, I failed. The wolf inside me would not let me go.

I lay on the floor for what felt like hours, staring at the ceiling, numb. I couldn't stay. Not when my presence risked more innocent lives, but leaving to another pack meant risking others too.

Still, it was the only choice. I packed quietly, only what I needed to survive. The silks, the jewels, the pretty gifts that once meant something, were nothing to me now. I left them all.

I scribbled a note and left it on the kitchen table for Siora:

'Dearest Siora, I'm sorry for everything. Please stay in this house. Don't sleep in people's kitchens or store rooms anymore. I promise I won't return. Everything here is yours.'

When dusk fell, I pushed my small cart out the back, avoiding the main roads. I took the narrow path by the woods, when I reached the border, the guards didn't question me, they were almost eager to see me go.

So I walked. With no destination, no plan, no hope, Until I found an old, abandoned cottage nestled between the trees, hidden by time and ivy. It was perfect.

Far enough that no pack member would be at risk, quiet enough for me to disappear, I made it home.

The next day I heard a knock. No one should have known I was here, my heart pounded as I approached the door. Maybe the pack members found me and wanted to kill me.

I opened it, just enough to see Zevarion.

I stared, wide-eyed. "How did you find me?" voice cracking. "Don't you know I'm cursed? Please... leave."

He didn't flinch. "You're not cursed, Vireya."

"Please..." I begged, my throat tight. "Just go."

He didn't argue. "I'll leave these here," he said gently, placing a basket on the steps.

And then he turned and walked away, I waited until he was gone. When I stepped outside, my hands trembling, I looked into the basket.

Food, fresh bread, roasted meat, soap, bandages, even a blanket. A tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it. I felt seen, not feared or hated. Just... remembered.

The following week, Zevarion returned. He didn't knock or call out. Just left another basket on the doorstep.

It became a tradition, his quiet visits, my silent gratitude. I never opened the door, never let him see me or say a word. It was the only way I knew how to protect him.

He was the last thread tethering me to the world. If I let him get too close, I might snap and drag him into my darkness. I thought, eventually, he'd stop trying, but he didn't.

Even after months, even after seasons changed and the cold crept into my bones, Zevarion still came, always alone with something useful. Always with hope.

During the full moons, my wolf would rise and hunt. She rarely spared rogues who wandered too close. The main pack knew this, they avoided the borders during the lunar peaks.

And so, time slipped by. A year passed in silence and solitude, then came my birthday.

I heard a soft knock, then his voice.

"Happy birthday, Vireya," Zevarion said gently. "Please... open the door. Let me know you're okay."

I stood on the other side, hand hovering over the doorknob, heart breaking, but I couldn't. I didn't trust myself.

"Say something, Vireya," he pleaded.

What could I say? That I missed him? That I dreamed of him every night? That my soul still ached to be touched, to be loved?

"I... okay," he breathed. "Then just... tap on the door twice, let me know it's still you."

I reached out and tapped, softly twice.

He exhaled, a sound full of relief and unspoken emotion. "I'll keep coming... until you come out to see me."

I waited until he walked away, then I peeked through the window. I smiled, a small fragile smile, the kind you give when you've forgotten how.

Another year passed. I lived off what he brought, never asking for it, but always needing it. I survived. My world was the same: small, quiet, haunted.

Until one night, I lay in my makeshift bed, staring up at the cracked ceiling, wondering if this was all I'd ever be.

Then I heard footsteps, not one or two, many. I bolted upright, breath caught in my throat, then there was silence.

Suddenly there was a thunderous kick that shattered my door, the wood crashing to the floor. A tall figure stepped into the cottage, shadowed and silent. I froze, my heart roared in my chest.

Something was coming, and I had no idea if I'd survive it. Or if I even wanted to.