The wind howled like a wounded beast as they soared through the endless sea of clouds. Alpha stood on the shimmering jade sword, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. Even though Xiao Alya had secured him to her waist with a spiritual rope, the sheer height made his head spin, and the ground below looked like a distant, blurry painting.
"Can you... can you fly a bit slower?" Alpha stammered, his hand instinctively gripping the rope tighter. "I know I'm tied to you, but I'm feeling a little... just a little bit scared. Okay?"
Alya didn't even turn around. Her silver hair whipped in the wind, occasionally grazing Alpha's face with the scent of sandalwood. "Would you prefer I tie the rope around your ankles and let you dangle beneath the sword? If not, shut up and stay still."
Alpha immediately went silent. He wasn't about to argue with a woman who could drop him from ten thousand feet without blinking. Besides, as terrifying as the height was, being this close to Alya—feeling the warmth of her presence—wasn't exactly a punishment. He decided it was better to be quiet than to be hung like a piece of dry meat.
After what felt like hours, the landscape below shifted. They descended toward a hidden valley guarded by two colossal mountain peaks. As they landed, Alpha's jaw dropped. Standing before them were two Giant Werewolf Statues, carved from ancient obsidian. They stood like silent titans, their stone eyes seemingly watching every movement of the intruders.
"These are our Ancient Guards," Alya said, noticing Alpha's stunned expression. "If you're this shocked just by the entrance, I can't even imagine your reaction once we are truly inside."
As they approached the massive gates, a guard in human form stepped forward. He looked strong, his eyes glowing with a faint, predatory yellow hue. "Princess Alya, forgive my intrusion," he said, bowing low. "But may I ask who this... outsider is?"
Alya didn't say a word. She simply gave the guard a look so cold it felt like the temperature had dropped by twenty degrees. She gestured toward Alpha's empty sleeve—the jagged, missing arm. The guard's face went pale; he understood the silent command and retreated instantly.
"Our clan exists within a folded space," Alya explained to Alpha. "Outsiders cannot enter without a special token. Stay here."
She vanished into a flash of light and returned moments later with a silver medallion. "Hold this. Face it forward."
As Alpha obeyed, a ripple appeared in the air—a shimmering portal that hummed with ancient energy. Alpha hesitated, his modern mind screaming that stepping into a hole in the air was a bad idea. Alya saw his fear and, for the first time, a tiny, almost invisible smile touched her lips. "It's safe. Come."
Stepping through was like walking through a curtain of cold water. On the other side, Alpha gasped. It was a different world entirely. The sky was a deeper shade of blue, and the air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers and ancient trees.
As they walked, Alpha saw people. Thousands of them. They looked like humans, but their auras were different—heavy and wild. "Are they... all werewolves?" he whispered.
"Yes," Alya replied. "They have reached a high level of cultivation, allowing them to maintain human forms. Just as I have."
But as they moved deeper into the city, the atmosphere grew heavy. Hundreds of eyes turned toward Alpha. Some looked at him with curiosity, others with blatant disgust, and many with a predatory hunger that made his skin crawl. He saw groups of werewolves who hadn't reached the higher levels yet—their features were more beast-like, their growls audible as he passed.
"This is only the beginning," Alya muttered. "The inner city is where the real power lies."
They passed through a second, even larger gate. Inside, the architecture was breathtaking—massive stone manors and floating pavilions. But suddenly, Alpha's feet turned to lead. His breath hitched, and his entire body began to tremble violently.
There, standing near a fountain, was a werewolf with a familiar, cruel sneer. Those eyes... that fur...
It was him. The beast that had torn his arm off in the cave.
Alpha couldn't move. The trauma came crashing back like a tidal wave. His vision blurred, and the world seemed to tilt.
"What happened?" Alya asked, sensing his sudden terror. Alpha couldn't answer. He was paralyzed by pure, unadulterated khauf. Alya followed his gaze and her eyes narrowed as they landed on the werewolf.
"You..." Alya whispered, her voice trembling with rage. "You broke the Sacred Rules, Xiao Mu."
She reached out and pinched Alpha's cheek sharply. The sudden sting snapped him out of his trance, but the fear was too great. In a moment of pure, desperate instinct, Alpha lunged forward and hugged Alya, clinging to her like a lifeline.
Alya froze. Her first instinct was to throw him across the courtyard. But then she felt him shaking—really shaking. She realized that for a mortal from another world, seeing his executioner again was a nightmare come to life. Surprisingly, she didn't push him away.
She turned her cold gaze toward the werewolf. "Xiao Mu! You will face judgment for breaking the agreement. You dared to hunt a human for sport?"
"Xiao Mu" laughed, a guttural, hollow sound. "He was just a stray dog, Princess. Why do you care about a one-armed insect?"
Alya didn't dignify him with a response. She grabbed Alpha's hand, her grip firm, and led him away to her personal manor. She gave him water, forced him to lie down on a bed of soft furs, and left him to rest while she went to face the High Council.
The Next Morning: The Hall of Elders
When Alpha woke up, he felt better, but the fear was still a dull ache in his chest. Alya appeared at the door. "It's time. The Council is waiting."
"Thank you, Alya," Alpha said softly. "For yesterday."
"It was our clan's mistake," she said, her voice regaining its icy edge. "Don't thank me for someone else's crime."
She led him to the Great Hall. It was a cavernous room filled with rows of stone chairs where the Elders sat—old, powerful men and women whose eyes glowed like embers. At the far end, on a throne of moonstone, sat the Clan Leader.
Alpha was shocked. The Leader didn't look old; he looked like a man in his late twenties, handsome and radiating a terrifyingly calm power.
Alpha bowed deeply. "Greetings, Great Leader. If I have made any mistake in my ignorance, please forgive me."
"There is no need for such politeness," the Leader said, his voice echoing through the hall. "Tell me, boy... how did you lose your arm?"
Alpha looked at the Elders, his heart racing. He saw one Elder in particular—a man with a sharp nose and cold eyes—staring at him with pure hatred. That was the Great Elder, the grandfather of Xiao Mu.
"Speak freely," the Leader encouraged. "No one will harm you here."
Alpha took a deep breath. "I was attacked... by a werewolf. Not in a fair fight, but a slaughter. He took my arm and left me for dead."
Alya stepped forward, her voice ringing clear. "I can confirm this. The attacker was Xiao Mu. He defied the peace agreement with the Seven Human Clans. He hunted this man for sport, bringing shame to the Great Werewolf Clan. If the Human Clans find out we are breaking the treaty, it will mean war. I demand justice."
A heavy silence fell over the hall. The Elders began to whisper fervently. On the side, the Great Elder gripped the armrest of his chair so hard the stone cracked. His eyes were fixed on Alpha, burning with a silent, vengeful promise. You dare accuse my bloodline for the sake of a cripple? You won't leave this mountain alive.
The Clan Leader leaned forward, his eyes locking on Alpha. "Justice will be served. But first... we must see if you are worthy of the Lunar Pool."