The Journey North
The nights grew colder as Henrik and I traveled farther from the de Martel lands. The forests thinned, giving way to stone and sea cliffs, where the wind howled like a beast and the salt stung the air.
Henrik walked at my side, his eyes faintly glowing even when he tried to keep them dim. They weren't golden anymore — they burned red, the mark of an Alpha. But his power was raw, unshaped, and it simmered under his skin like a storm waiting to break.
"Brother," he asked one night as we camped beneath the stars, "what does it mean to be a wolf? Truly? Is it only claws and fangs and the hunt?"
I stared into the fire, watching the flames twist. "No. A wolf is more than its bite. A wolf is part of a pack — a family. Bound by loyalty, by blood, by the moon itself. Alone, even the strongest wolf will falter. But together… they are unstoppable."
Henrik frowned. "And yet we left ours behind."
I smirked faintly. "Because sometimes, to protect the pack, you must leave it. Learn what you are, so you can return stronger."
He nodded, though doubt still lingered in his gaze.
Blood on the Road
Three nights later, danger found us. Bandits lurked along a forest path, blades glinting in the dark. They mistook us for wandering nobles — easy prey.
One rushed me. I caught his wrist and snapped it with a twist. His scream was drowned by Henrik's roar.
His body cracked and stretched as his face shifted, brows ridging, fangs sliding down, claws erupting from his hands. His eyes blazed bright crimson — red Alpha eyes. He wasn't a boy anymore, nor a man. He was a monster born in blood and moonlight.
The bandits screamed. Too late. Henrik tore through them like paper, his claws raking, his fangs ripping, his growls shaking the air. When it was over, their bodies lay broken in the snow.
Henrik staggered back, chest heaving, his monstrous features receding. His red Alpha eyes flickered before dimming again.
"I… I couldn't stop," he gasped, blood dripping from his claws.
I placed a hand on his shoulder. "That is the Alpha in you. The hunger to dominate, the fury in battle. Do not fear it. Control it. You are not a beast, Henrik — unless you choose to be."
He nodded shakily, though his eyes still glowed faintly, as though part of him relished the power.
The Lesson
Later that night, Henrik sat by the fire, still unsettled. "Brother… you said you understood. But how? You are not like me."
I smirked. "No, Henrik. I am more."
Closing my eyes, I let the wolf stir. My bones cracked, claws slid from my fingers, and my face shifted into the feral ridged form. My eyes burned red too — but brighter than Henrik's, glowing like molten fire.
Henrik's breath caught. "Your eyes… they're brighter than mine."
I growled low, the power radiating from me. My Alpha form matched his at first — but stronger, deeper, carrying the weight of witchcraft and vampiric strength with the wolf. Where Henrik was primal, I was overwhelming.
Henrik's red eyes shone defiantly, but even he lowered his gaze. "You're stronger."
"Not stronger," I said, my voice echoing with power. "Different. You are the first Alpha bitten werewolf. But I… I am the first and only Tribrid. Vampire. Witch. Wolf. A True Tribrid Alpha."
And then I shifted further. My body broke, fur burst across my skin, and I dropped onto four legs. A massive silver-grey wolf stood where I had been, its eyes burning red-gold fire in the night.
I padded around Henrik, growling deep, primal. He stared at me with awe, his Alpha eyes blazing red, but not as bright as mine.
When I shifted back to myself, Henrik's voice trembled with respect. "You can be both. You… you are everything."
I clasped his shoulder. "And you, Henrik, are the first of your kind. Do not diminish that. Together, brother, no wolf, no vampire, no witch can stand against us."
The Northern Atlantic Pack
Snow crunched beneath our boots as we crested the ridge. Below, a circle of stone and fire glowed in the night, filled with wolves. Their eyes glinted in the firelight, their growls low and wary. The air was thick with their scent — my blood's kin.
At the center stood a broad man, his beard streaked with silver, his presence commanding. This was their Alpha.
He stepped forward, eyes narrowing as he studied me. "I am Clayton, Alpha of the Northern Atlantic Pack. Stranger… I smell the wolf in you, but also something else. Who are you?"
I met his gaze, unflinching. "Niklaus. Son of Ansel. This is my birthright."
A ripple went through the pack — murmurs of Ansel's name, remembered loyalty stirring. Clayton's eyes widened, then lowered. Slowly, he stepped back, baring his neck.
"Then it is yours," he said. "The blood of Ansel runs true. The Alpha's place is yours to claim."
The wolves bowed, their voices falling silent in recognition. For the first time, I felt wolf bloodline settle firmly within me.
Henrik's Revelation
Henrik stepped forward, his eyes burning red. Gasps rang out as his body cracked and shifted, his claws sliding free, his face contorting into that half-beast Alpha form.
The pack recoiled, shock rippling through them. Clayton himself staggered back, eyes wide.
"What… what are you?" he whispered.
Henrik's voice was steady, his red Alpha eyes burning into theirs. "I am Henrik Mikaelson. I was bitten by wolves, torn apart beneath the full moon. I should have died. But I rose again. I am the first bitten. The first immortal werewolf."
The pack growled nervously, some in awe, some in fear. Henrik raised his clawed hand, his voice rising.
"I survived what no wolf has ever survived. And more — my blood is different. If you drink it, you will not die. You will rise. Immortal. Not cursed, not bound by the moon alone. You will be a new breed — a hybrid of the cursed and the bitten."
The pack went still. The words hung heavy, carried on the cold wind.
Clayton looked between us, his voice hushed. "If this is true… then no witch, no hunter, no enemy could ever destroy us."
Henrik bared his fangs in a grin, his red Alpha eyes burning bright. "Then choose. Stay as you are, bound to mortality… or rise, and become eternal."
And as their howls rose into the night, the ancient Northern Atlantic Pack stood on the edge of becoming something new.
I stood among them, my own red Tribrid Alpha eyes glowing brighter than Henrik's, and I knew: the world would never be the same again.