Ryan's knees buckled beneath him. The world spun, voices blurred, and the cold wind of the mountain sliced through his new skin.
He wasn't sure if he was breathing—or if he even remembered how to.
His hands trembled as he tried to rise. He stared down at them—now covered in fur, claws where fingers had been. He didn't recognize what he'd become.
The glowing mark on his arm pulsed—bright, alive, almost breathing. With every heartbeat, it burned brighter.
The werewolves around him finally began to stir, blinking out of their trance. Then the whispers began, sharp and uneasy.
"What is he?"
"Why did we bow to him?"
"What's that on his hand?"
"He's not even one of us…"
Ryan's enhanced hearing caught every word, every doubt. It all swirled around him, dizzying.
Then—
"Silence."
The voice was old, shaky, but carried weight. It sliced through the noise, and the wolves fell quiet at once.
An elder stepped forward—tall, robed, his fur streaked with silver. He raised his arms and spoke in a tongue older than any Ryan had heard:
"Ecce, sub oculo sanguineo noctis, puer ignotus surgit,
Formatus ex ungue et spiritu, solutus a sanguine et carne,
Per ignem lunarem, caelestes cicatrices in manibus ardebunt."
Then, in perfect English:
"Lo, beneath the crimson eye of night shall stir a babe unknown,
Wrought of claw and spirit, unbound by blood or bone,
By moon's divine fire, celestial scars shall blaze upon his hands alone."
The old man bowed deeply—hands to heart, forehead nearly touching the earth.
"My lord… I never believed I would live to see this day.
You are the Alpha. The True Alpha. The only one who can lead our kind to destiny."
Ryan's mind spun.
Alpha?
He staggered back, heart thundering. His clawed hands shook at his sides. In the shattered mirror nearby, he saw the beast staring back—fur-lined arms, glowing gold eyes, fangs glinting in the firelight.
He couldn't look away.
His voice finally tore from his throat, shaky, raw.
"What do you mean, lead us?"
The old man didn't blink.
"You were chosen. Not born of werewolf blood… but called by the wild itself."
Ryan shook his head, voice rising.
"No. This is wrong. My parents are human. I'm human! I was—until tonight. What did you do to me?!"
His voice cracked—fear wrapped in fury.
A heavy silence fell again. Even the trees seemed to listen.
Then the old wolf began to speak once more, voice rasping like dry leaves in the wind.
"Long before our time, under the first Blood Moon, a nameless child rose from the ashes of war. He bore no pack, no lineage. But under the moon's divine fire, the stars carved signs into his hands—not wounds, but prophecy."
His eyes glowed as they locked with Ryan's.
"They called him Kael—the First. The Pure One. The True Alpha. Power didn't make him. Power bent to him."
He stepped closer.
"And the legends say more shall come… when the world begins to bleed again. Marked by light. Bound to fire."
A final whisper, almost to himself:
"And now… the scars have returned."
Ryan stood frozen, heart racing.
Just minutes ago, he was just a kid from the city.
Now he had fur for skin, fangs for teeth... and a glowing crest on his arm no one could explain.
He opened his mouth to speak—
But then, a thick mist swallowed the air around him and the elder.
When it cleared—
Only the old Alpha remained.