The Weight of Royal Blood
Carl
The air in the Silver Moon packhouse tasted of damp stone and old grief. I stood by the window of my office, my skeletal fingers tracing the deep gouges in the mahogany desk, scars left by my father’s claws during his final stand three years ago. The reflection in the glass was a ghost of the man I used to be. The Royal Blood that was supposed to make me invincible felt like lead in my veins, dragging me down toward the earth.
"Morning, Alpha," Malik’s voice spoke through the mind-link, a steady anchor in the morning mist.
"Morning, Malik. Any news yet?"
"Nothing. But we will keep looking, Alpha."
"Alright. I’ll see you later. I have something to attend to." I could practically feel him frowning through the link. "No need to come with me or worry, Malik. It’s personal. I’ll be fine."
Today, my wolf, Carlos, was restless. He wanted to be one with nature, to feel the damp earth under his paws, and I was going to give him that. Sometimes I still wonder how I’m even alive. Usually, when a wolf loses a mate, they are expected to go rogue or succumb to madness. But not me. Maybe the Moon Goddess had a twisted form of mercy for me these past three years.
My lineage is heavy with Royal Blood. My great-grandfather went blind for a week before nearly surrendering to the madness of grief. But he fought his way back, raised his children, and ran this pack until it passed to my grandfather, then my father, and finally, to me.
I wondered why the madness never claimed me. Perhaps it’s because when I was ready to give up two years ago, I found something more to live for. I had lost everything in a single month; I was labeled a betrayer. Business associates backed out, contracts were burned, and the word spread like a virus: Do not work with the Rovers. I knew exactly who had forbidden them from helping us.
But right now, all I cared about was my son, Alex, and my pack. We were down to three hundred members. We used to be a sea of people, but many fled after the tragedy, watching the walls crumble. I didn't hold a grudge. People seek safety where they can find it.
We were bankrupt. We were alone. Sometimes Alex sleeps in my room, but the void stays empty. Losing your mate just months after finding her leaves a hole that air can't fill.
I realized I’d been running so long I was at the very edge of our borders. I sat under a tree in my wolf form, mourning the life my father and brother should have had. After an hour, I decided to head back. I wished I could just hunt, kill, and eat a deer, to feel something primal but my thoughts were cut short.
"Ouff."
Something hit me hard from behind, knocking the wind out of me as I slammed into the dirt. I scrambled up, instinct taking over. I lunged at the first attacker and tore his throat out before he could even growl.
"Tommy!" A second wolf, a dusty brown, shifted into human form mid-run. He screamed as he reached the carcass. "You killed him! How dare you?"
I moved to mind-link Malik, but he beat me to it. ‘On the way, Alpha!’
‘Hurry.’
I charged the second one like a rocket, my teeth finding his throat. My father’s training echoed in my head; Always be vigilant. Be the first to strike when cornered. And I was cornered. Five of them, though only three remained standing now. My adrenaline was a wildfire. I looked at the man crouching over the dead wolf, his eyes wild with hate.
"How dare I? You’re asking that here? On my land? In my pack?!" I growled through my muzzle.
Before I could finish him, the other two lunged. We fought for minutes, a blur of fur and teeth until a blow caught the side of my head so hard the world fractured. It was the brown wolf who had shifted; his kick was heavy. Dark spots danced in my vision.
"Are we taking him, or should I call the Alpha?" a voice asked, sounding like it was underwater.
"Yeah, I think we should. But let's have some fun first. It’d be a good thing to fuck a Royal Blood, don’t you think?" a second voice sneered.
"You’re both sick. No wonder you’re mates," the brown wolf, Lucas, spat.
The voices began to fade into a dark cloud. My last thoughts weren't of the pain, but of my son. Who will raise Alex? Will they kill him too? Is this the end of the Rovers? The last thing I heard before the blackness took me was a growl so powerful it felt like it shook the very foundations of the earth.
