Blood. My eyeballs are covered in red, my nose smells the strong scent of rust.
I can't believe it, just a moment ago, my brother who was originally on the stage receiving his coronation as an Alpha, is suddenly stabbed in the heart by an elder holding the alpha's scepter. He hasn't even had a chance to say his vows before falling on the stage with a tremendous sound.
Ah! Then comes various screams, omegas flee in terror, clutching their heads, and the high-ranking warriors who had been standing below the stage prepare to shift, but before they can shift, they are impaled by the rogues' claws. I stand below the stage, my legs shaking uncontrollably, a small hand pulls me under the podium.
It is my maid, Emma. She warns me in horror not to make a sound. I tremble, covering my mouth. With every shrill, agonizing scream from outside, I have to pinch my palm hard to force myself not to cry out, but Emma and I still shake uncontrollably as we huddle together. I don't know how long it takes, but I hear it grow quiet outside again. Emma and I crawl out from underground.
We try to make our way through the corpses, to check if any wolves have survived, but when I see everything in front of me, I can't hold back my tears anymore. Our pack house has been burned, shattered bodies lay everywhere - they haven't even spared the newborn pups. I look at one tiny body lying there lifeless, just the day before I had been cradling him and making him laugh. My tears flow harder, I bite my lip to stop myself, afraid the enemy might still be nearby.
I'm only 13 years old, I haven't even shift yet. I have to seek help from the alpha king, I swear when I come of age, I'll definitely come back and avenge these damned rogues!
But the moment I take a step forward, a sharp blade blocks my path. I see a huge man around 25 years old appear before me, with deeply chiseled features. His eyes bearing the royal signature color make me recognize him instantly. The alpha prince, Jax.
An evil grin spreads across his face, before I can even wonder why he is here, he speaks. "Yes, Aubrey. I'm the one who attacked your pack." As if my pain isn't enough, he licks the corner of his mouth and smiles, "And then, I killed everyone. Their struggles excited me."
Ah, I scream in anguish and lunge at him, but he just gives me a light shove and I fall to the ground, my ribs aching as if they have snapped in two.
"Why?! Why would you do this?! As a royal wolf, isn't your duty to protect the packs?!" I grit my teeth.
He crouches down like a wolf about to pounce on its prey, in my terrified gaze, he grabs my throat and says coldly, "Your parents, your brother, they all thought I wasn't fit to be the alpha king, so they refused to join my side. This is the price for their disobedience."
"You bastard! I swear I'll rip open your heart with my claws." I beat against his iron grip, his fingers tightening until my vision blurs. Am I going to die here?
"Avery, clean her memory, I need to make sure her memory is that the rogues killed her family." Through the haze, I hear alpha Jax's voice.
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7 years later
The crisp morning air nips at my skin as I stand in the training grounds, my leather armor creaking with each movement. Dawn's pale fingers stretch across the manor's stone walls, casting long shadows over the packed dirt where I've spent countless hours honing my skills. My fingers trace the worn grip of my sword, the familiar texture grounding me as memories threaten to surface.
In this world, female wolves are expected to bow their heads, to show deference to the males who claim to be our protectors. We're meant to tend to pups, maintain dens, and accept our "natural place" in the pack hierarchy. The thought makes my lip curl. I've seen what such protection is worth.
The other she-wolves at the manor watch me with barely concealed contempt, their whispered words carrying across the courtyard. "Pride comes before the fall," they say, smoothing their traditional long skirts and averting their eyes when males pass. But I stand tall in my fitted training garb, my shoulders back, my chin level. Let them talk.
My mind drifts to smoke-filled skies and desperate screams. The day the rogues came. Mother's final words, telling me to run. Father's roar cut short. I grip my sword tighter, forcing the memories down. They've made me what I am – a warrior who shows no mercy to those who deserve none.