In the beginning, there were no werewolves. Only wolves.
Born from the world's first breath: Fire wolves from volcanic fury, Water wolves from primordial oceans, Earth wolves from the bones of mountains, Wind wolves from the sky's wild heart. They were neither beasts nor gods, but something in between. The guardians of the natural order. For millennia, they kept the balance. Until it came.
The texts call it many names. The Devourer, the Unmaking. It is chaos. It reduces all things to nothing. The ancient wolves fought but it was undefeatable and they lost.
One by one, the great packs fell. Fire wolves extinguished. Earth wolves crumbled. The world itself began to fray at the edges, reality peeling away like skin from bone. In desperation, the surviving wolves made a choice that would reshape history. They turned to humanity.
Humans were weak, fragile and short-lived. But they had something the wolves did not—adaptability and Innovation. The reckless audacity to believe they could win even when all hope was gone.
The first bonds were forged in blood. Human and wolf, merged in body and soul. The wolves lent their power; the humans lent their cunning. Together, they became something new. Werewolves. And together, they drove the Void back.
It took a century. It cost millions of lives—human and wolf alike. But in the end, the great evil was sealed away, bound by magic and sacrifice in a prison beneath the earth. The ancient wolves who survived the war were too wounded to continue. They retreated into deep slumber, leaving their descendants—smaller, lesser wolves to guide the new world.
The age of werewolves had begun. Two thousand years later, the old ways have crystallized into tradition. Every werewolf pack is governed by hierarchy: Alphas at the top, Betas beneath them, Gammas, Deltas, and Omegas forming the foundation. Power flows through bloodlines. Alphas breed Alphas. Betas breed Betas. The strong lead; the weak follow.
But the true power that determines a werewolf's rank, their abilities, their very place in the world—comes from one sacred ritual called the Coming-of-Age Ceremony.
In their eighteenth year, every young werewolf enters the Hatchery—a vast, wild sanctuary where wolves of all ranks live freely, untamed and unchosen. Some of these wolves are mere cubs, no larger than dogs. Others are ancient, scarred veterans of forgotten battles.
The legends speak of a rare set of wolves, the only ones that can make an Alpha wolf bow. They usually keep to themselves and have never been seen since the war against The Void. These are the pure descendants of the first wolves, the ones who fought the Void itself. They carry elemental power in its purest form. They are known as Legendary Wolves.
A Legendary Wolf based on the legends, chooses based on something no werewolf can fake: true worth. A Legendary Wolf can reject a king's son and choose a nobody. The bond, once formed, is absolute. It cannot be broken, cannot be transferred, cannot be undone. Which is why, when the seers spoke their prophecy twenty years ago, the entire werewolf world held its breath.
"When the Void stirs once more,
When the seals begin to break,
A child born under the eclipsed moon
Raised in shadow,
Shall bind with the wolf of legends,
And stand alone against the dark."
The prophecy was clear: a male child, born during the lunar eclipse two decades past, raised under the watchful eyes of the Council and trained from infancy in combat, strategy, leadership, would save the world.
His name is Kael Stormborn, the son of one bonded to a Delta Wolf, and everyone knows he will bind with the Legendary Wolf when his time comes.
Everyone knows he will save the world.
But prophecies, like wolves, do not always choose as expected. And the Void, patient and eternal, has been waiting a very long time.
The seals are cracking.
The ancient evil stirs.
And in seven days, when Kael Stormborn enters the Hatchery expecting glory, the Legendary Wolf will make a choice that shatters everything.