Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
“Mind your tongue, Sir Marcus.” Alpha Alaraic banged his fist so loudly on the mahogany table that the whole privy council of elders jumped. Sir Marcus, who was the chief Advisor of Alpha, flinched. “I said what needed to be said, my lord. You cannot go on like this- without a mate, without an heir.”
Alaric felt his teeth clench in anger. He had lost the love of his life, he had lost his lifelong mate, his wife and his only son, his beloved baby just a year ago, and all these fucking men cared for was another heir, another luna, to replace the last. Like it was a joke.
“It’s been a year. The mourning is over. It is time you look for another mate, a girl with good breeding and background who could be your luna and carry your bloodline forward.” As soon as the words were out of Sir Marcus’s mouth, the whole council braced themselves; they knew what was coming. Alpha Alaric was going to cut someone’s head off. He was so angry.
And they were right. “How dare you!” He growled, his six feet full of muscle- all taut to attention, eyes burning green as he bared his fangs towards them. “How dare you tell me that a year is enough! ENOUGH? to mourn my wife? My child, my son? How dare you?”
“Forgive me, my lord. I didn’t mean- I only-” Sir Marcus fumbled. “I only meant to say that the pack needs a Luna. The pack needs the security, and they had all been waiting for you to-”
“Take another wife? Mate with the first young woman who looks my way and produce a child to replace the one I lost?” Sir Marcus closed his eyes against the onslaught. “If the pack has been waiting for that, well then they would be waiting a long-long time, because I am never taking another mate. Ever.” He finished. “My wife has died; she was the only woman I ever wanted. Marriage is not something I shall ever let myself get into. And that’s my final verdict on the topic.” He glared at each one of them, singling them out, making sure they got the message loud and clear, and stop pestering him.
Sir Marcus was the last. “Council dismissed.”
---
Alas, Alaric’s own promise to never mate again came back to haunt him a few days later. “The war’s approaching.” The council members were back for the meeting, but no one dared to meet the Alpha’s eyes after the last debacle.
But this was serious. “The Lycans are fast approaching, Queens-bane, frostmaw both gone to their control. They are killing every single wolf, woman, child, and babe. They leave no survivors. If we are to survive, if we are to win against them - then-”
“We have to go to war.” Alaric nodded, his jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together. He knew where this conversation was heading. But he was not going to give in. He was not going to get married again. He was not going to mark another she-wolf, that was his Lara’s place, and only she would ever have it. His chest ached, just thinking of her and their son... Sometimes, he wondered why the moon goddess kept him alive....to endure such pain? To feel what the loss meant? To die every day?
The fire crackled in the great hall, shadows dancing across the stone walls as the elder council gathered around the long table. The scent of pine smoke and old parchment filled the air, but it was the silence.....the tense, pulsing silence that made even the eldest wolves shift uncomfortably in their seats.
Alpha Alaric Fenris stood at the head of the table, broad arms crossed over his chest, silver-streaked hair tied back, jaw tight. His presence filled the room like thunderclouds gathering. But tonight, even thunder would yield.
Elder Vira, the oldest among them, fixed her pale yellow eyes on him. “We’ve been patient, Alaric. Too patient.”
“You dare to question my timing?” His voice rumbled low, like a wolf’s growl barely held in check.
“No,” she said calmly. “We question your refusal.”
The firelight flickered over the iron sigil above his seat, the ancient mark of the Fenris Alpha. Unbroken. Unyielding.
Elder Torran leaned forward. “The southern packs are mobilizing. Rogues gather in the east. And the Silverfangs -”
“I know what the Silverfangs are doing,” Alaric cut in.
“Then you know they smell weakness,” Torran snapped. “And a pack without an heir is a vulnerable pack.”
Alaric’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve led this pack for twenty-five years. I fought wars and won them. My strength does not depend on an heir.”
“No,” Vira agreed. “But the pack’s survival does.”
There it was. The truth. Cold and sharp. Something he couldn’t refute, not anymore.
“You think a pup will stop bloodshed?” Alaric scoffed, but even as he said it, a shadow passed behind his gaze. Regret. Memory. The scent of lilies and snow.....his mate, long gone. The promise he made at her grave: Never again.
Vira’s tone softened, just enough to reach him. “You don’t need to love again, Alaric. But you need to lead beyond your lifetime. An heir is not about you. It’s about what comes after you.”
Silence stretched.
He turned away from them, jaw clenched. Through the tall windows, he watched the sky - the Blood Moon was coming earlier than usual this year. Maybe a bad omen. Or maybe a sign.
“They’ll never follow a childless Alpha into war,” Sir Marcus said behind him. “They’ll follow strength, but only if that strength has a future.”
Alaric’s hand tightened on the edge of the stone windowsill.
“I won’t take another Luna,” he said. Pain laced his voice.
“No one’s asking you to,” Vira replied. “There is another way.”
Alaric looked at them, his eyebrows furrowed. “What way? What other way is there to get an heir if I don’t take a mate?” He snapped. Feeling like they were going in circles, over and over again.
And watched as the elder council members looked at each other, as if daring one another to speak of the bad news. Alaric waited for what seemed to be an eternity before someone finally dared to spout out whatever mess they had been cooking up behind him. “We discussed this issue in detail and kept in mind about all the sides-” Sir Marcus began, and Alaric already felt his patience snap in half.
“Come to THE POINT!”
Marcus looked like he had swallowed a whole bunch of iron nails as he said the next few words, “We thought, we thought you could have a Heat ceremony. A heat borne heir is considered pure and legitimate even if you do not mate and mark the child’s mother.” He watched as everyone stared at him, eyes wide and expectant, waiting for him to blow up at them.
But how can he be angry when he didn’t even understand what the hell they were talking about? “Explain, what is this heat ceremony?”
Sir Marcus looked at him like he would rather jump off the highest cliff in Crimson Reach and die than tell him what a heat ceremony was. “Well,” he cleared his throat. “It’s an ancient rite that has been stopped in the modern world for many reasons. But for a situation like yours, we see no other way.”
“The Heat Ceremony is older than bloodlines. Older than Luna bonds. It began when the wolves first walked as men, and the instinct to breed warred with the burden of leadership.”
Alaric didn’t like the sound of that. What was that even supposed to mean? His eyebrows furrowed as he let him continue.
“It was never meant to be gentle,” he continued. And suddenly, Alaric understood. His eyes widened. They were talking about the breeding ritual. An archaic custom that had stopped many years ago. “It is not for the Luna. It is not for love. It is for legacy.”
Marcus sighed, then took another breath as if preparing himself.
“When the Blood Moon rises, a female of age and pure womb is chosen, who is untainted by bond, unmated by any wolf.”
They meant, ‘A Virgin’. Alaric understood.
“She will be taken to the altar under flame and moon. There, she will be given the inducing tonic, a heated brew that will awaken the rut within her veins, triggering her heat, forcing her body to call for the Alpha’s seed.”
Alaric’s jaw clenched. His eyes didn’t leave the fire. This was insane. Even speaking about this was insane.
“She will lie belly-down, surrounded by the pack. Witnessed by all. And then you, Alpha, will enter the circle.”.
“You will mount her from behind.... no eye contact, no tenderness, no words. You will breed her as the first wolves did. Before gods, before rules.” There it was, Alaric felt himself shake with disgust.
His voice was low and Rough as he demanded to know. “And make a show out of it?” The disgust was clear in his voice.
“No show. Just purity,” Vira answered softly. “She is to remain still, silent, and obedient; there will be no contact between the two of you, but where you two join in breeding....until the rut is complete, until your knot takes hold, and your seed is given.”
He paused.
“The presence of the pack ensures legitimacy. The ritual proves to the gods that the heir was not born in secrecy, but under fire, moon, and law. With the whole pack as your witness.”
“And if the moon goddess blesses you, you shall have an heir within nine months, to carry your name forward.”
