Chapter 28 — The Alpha's Game
Pain kept Ronan conscious.
Not the kind that faded. Not the kind that numbed.
This was deliberate—measured—enjoyed.
Chains carved with lunar runes pinned him to the stone floor of the cavern, each breath scraping against shattered ribs. Blood pooled beneath him, steaming faintly in the cold. Above, moonlight filtered through a broken ceiling, painting the walls in silver and shadow.
A figure stepped into the light.
Tall. Broad. Wrong.
The Alpha werewolf's eyes glowed like molten amber as he crouched in front of Ronan, claws lazily tracing the air inches from his face.
"Still alive," the Alpha said, amused. "Good. I hate wasting conversations."
Ronan spat blood. "You said… you'd help me."
The Alpha laughed—deep, feral, echoing through the cavern.
"I did," he replied. "You lured them out. You broke them. You gave me a taste of their strength."
He leaned closer, fangs inches from Ronan's throat.
"But usefulness ends eventually."
The Alpha's name was Varkuun Blackmaw—a name whispered in northern ruins, spoken only by those who didn't survive long after.
He seized Ronan by the jaw, forcing his head up.
"You want to know why I hate him?" Varkuun asked calmly. "Why I hunt hybrids like animals?"
Ronan's vision blurred. "X…"
"Yes," Varkuun snarled. "X."
The walls seemed to darken as his voice dropped.
"He slaughtered my father beneath a blood moon. Tore my Alpha apart with his bare hands. Then he burned my clan—every cub, every elder, every memory."
Varkuun released him, standing slowly.
"I learned something that night," he continued. "Mercy is a weakness. Love is a leash."
He turned back, eyes glowing brighter.
"And hybrids?"
"They are mistakes that should have never been born."
Ronan trembled as Varkuun knelt again.
"But you," the Alpha said softly, "you're a means to an end."
He dragged a claw across Ronan's chest, drawing a slow, deliberate line of blood.
"I don't intend to kill X with strength alone."
Ronan swallowed. "Then how…?"
Varkuun's smile was monstrous.
"I will drink the blood of a pure hybrid."
The words sank like poison.
"Their blood carries moonfire and void both. If I take it—if I survive it—then I become something no Alpha has ever been."
He leaned in, whispering:
"A god."
The shadows stirred as another presence entered the cavern.
The Moon Witch stepped forward, her robes flowing like living night. Her eyes glowed pale white as she raised her staff, moon sigils rotating slowly around it.
"The next full moon approaches," she said. "You must strike before it rises."
Varkuun snarled. "Why?"
She met his gaze without fear.
"Because if X stands beneath a full moon," she replied, "his power eclipses nearly every creature in existence."
Varkuun growled low, claws digging into stone.
"Then it ends before that night."
The Moon Witch's lips curled into a thin smile.
"And the boy?" she asked. "The son?"
Varkuun's gaze flickered—just once.
"He dreams," the Alpha said. "I see him. Feel him. His fear tastes… sweet."
Far away—
Blue jerked awake in his bed, breath ragged, sweat soaking his sheets.
Red eyes watched him from the dark corners of his dream.
A voice echoed in his skull:
I'm coming for your blood.
Back in the cavern, Varkuun stood tall, blood dripping from his claws.
"I swear on my name," he declared, voice shaking the stone itself,
"Varkuun Blackmaw—last Alpha of the North."
He looked toward the unseen horizon.
"I will kill X…
end the hybrid line…
or die tearing it apart."
The moon above darkened, clouds swallowing its light.
And the hunt had truly begun.