The blood moon hung like a fiend over the Black Forest, dyeing the entire werewolf territory a sinister crimson.
The century-old inheritance ceremony of the Silver Flame Pack was underway at the center of the altar. The air reeked of pine resin and blood. A thick ancient werewolf carpet, embroidered with a silver flame totem that glinted coldly under the moonlight as if it would ignite into reality at any moment, lay on the frigid obsidian altar. Jackson Voss stood atop the altar, his silver hair fluttering in the night wind, and his jet-black eyes exuded the dominance of a top Alpha. Faint silver wolf patterns lingered around him, a testament to the purity and power of his bloodline.
A once-in-a-century prodigy of the Silver Flame Pack, he had claimed the Alpha throne at just twenty-five and built the Voss Global business empire into a legend in the human world. Now, he traded his expensive custom suit for traditional black animal-hide battle armor, his smooth yet explosive muscle lines on full display. His fingers brushed the Silver Flame Dagger at his waist—the heirloom of every pack leader, its blade carved with ancient runes that shimmered faintly.
"In the name of the Silver Flame Alpha, I hereby declare that from this day forth, the boundary between our pack and the human world shall be one of peace, with no trespass on either side," his deep, magnetic voice cut through the pack's chatter and echoed across the valley.
Below the altar, tens of thousands of werewolves stood or lay, most gazing up in reverence. But deep in the crowd, a pair of sinister eyes fixed on him—Kael Hale, an Alpha from a collateral branch. Kael's gaze raked Jackson's tall back, jealousy and ambition burning in his chest. They shared the Silver Flame bloodline, so why did Jackson have everything by birth? The Alpha throne, the Voss Empire, the pack's admiration—all of it should have been his!
The ceremony reached its climax, requiring the Alpha to awaken the silver flame totem below the altar with his blood to bless the pack. Without hesitation, Jackson sliced his palm, and drops of crimson blood fell onto the totem, instantly sending silver flames soaring into the sky, illuminating the entire night. But at that moment, disaster struck!
Several black figures darted out from the dense forest behind the altar, moving at blinding speed—Kael's loyal assassins, wielding poison-coated blades, lunged straight for Jackson.
"Protect the Alpha!" The loyal werewolf warriors reacted at once, shifting forms to meet the attack. Howls and the clash of steel shattered the solemnity in an instant.
Jackson's eyes sharpened, and he dodged the incoming blade with a flick of his body. The Silver Flame Dagger flashed, slitting an assassin's throat before he could even scream. But he never expected the real threat would not come from these foot soldiers.
"Jackson, you're too naive. Peace? It's worthless in the face of power!" Kael's voice rang out with cruel amusement as he stepped out of the crowd, holding a jet-black scepter topped with a blood-red crystal that emanated an eerie glow.
"You," Jackson narrowed his eyes, and the silver flames around him flared. He had never imagined betrayal from a clansman he trusted, not at a time like this.
"Me indeed," Kael sneered, waving the scepter. A beam of red light shot from the blood crystal, piercing straight for Jackson's heart. "This is a heart-devouring poison I brewed just for you, tailored to suppress the Silver Flame bloodline. Rest easy— I'll take good 'care' of your throne, your empire."
The red light tore through Jackson's armor and pierced his chest. Agonizing pain surged through his body, and he could feel his silver flame power fading rapidly, the wolf patterns fading from his skin, and the light in his jet-black eyes dimming. The heart-devouring poison was vicious, consuming not just his power but his very soul.
"Traitor!" Jackson roared, summoning his last strength to charge at Kael, dagger aimed at his heart. But just as the blade was about to strike, the poison erupted fully. His legs buckled, and he collapsed heavily onto the altar.
Kael stepped forward, crushing Jackson's wrist under his boot. The Silver Flame Dagger clattered to the ground. "You've lost, Jackson," he leaned down, his voice venomous in Jackson's ear. "I'll seal your body in an eternal ice coffin, letting you slumber in darkness forever as I claim your throne, rename Voss Group to Hale, and watch your pack grovel at my feet."
Jackson tried to struggle, but his body would not obey. Consciousness blurred, his last sight was Kael's triumphant face, the silver flame totem fading under the blood moon, and his loyal warriors falling in pools of blood. Unbearable resentment and rage welled up in him—if there was a next life, he would make Kael pay in blood!
Before his consciousness slipped into complete darkness, he seemed to hear his mother Elena's gentle voice: "My son, the Silver Flame bloodline never dies. One day, you will rise again from the ashes."
When he opened his eyes again, there was no pain, no battle—only endless cold.
Jackson felt trapped in a narrow space, surrounded by pitch blackness. Bone-chilling cold seeped through his skin into his marrow, numbing his mind. He tried to lift his hand, only to find his limbs encased in thick ice, even rolling his eyes a struggle.
Where was he? Had he not died? Struck down by Kael's poison, his body sealed in an eternal ice coffin… Memories flooded back, and the phantom pain in his chest reignited a blaze of hatred in his long-dormant soul.
He was Jackson Voss—the Silver Flame Alpha, the Voss CEO. He would not be trapped here forever!
He strained to summon the last vestiges of his power, determined to break free even if it cost him everything. The Silver Flame blood flowed sluggishly in his veins, faint silver light flickering under his skin. But the eternal ice coffin, forged from a special material and sealed with spells, held fast no matter how hard he fought.
Time lost all meaning in the dark ice realm—days, years, perhaps centuries passed. Jackson clung to consciousness by replaying Kael's face, his pack, his empire over and over in his mind; they were his only anchor.
Then, three years later, a faint glimmer of light pierced the darkness outside the coffin, followed by soft footsteps and a woman's murmured voice.
Amelia Reed gripped her geological survey device, picking her way carefully through this uninhabited polar ice field. A brilliant young biologist in the human world, she had come to study rare cold-tolerant creatures deep in the poles. She had stumbled upon references to this ice field in ancient texts, said to hold ancient secrets, but all she had found so far was endless glaciers and ice.
"That's strange," she frowned, her delicate face etched with confusion. Her light brown hair was tied in a ponytail, and her bulky white down jacket could not hide her slender figure. Her fair skin and clear light gray eyes shone with earnestness and perseverance. "The texts mentioned special biological energy fluctuations here—why is there nothing?"
As she walked, her survey device suddenly beeped urgently, its screen showing intense energy surges. Amelia's eyes lit up, and she hurried toward the signal. Beyond a cluster of low ice pillars, a massive ice coffin loomed before her.
The coffin was completely transparent, encasing a man in black animal-hide armor, his silver hair spread out. His features were sharp and chiseled, exuding unruly arrogance even with his eyes closed, as if a faint aura of dominance still surrounded him.
Amelia had never seen such a striking man. She stepped forward instinctively, reaching out to touch the coffin, wondering if it was an ancient relic. The moment her fingertips brushed the ice, a warm current flowed from her hand, activating a latent special power within her. Faint golden light seeped from her palm into the coffin.
Inside the coffin, Jackson hovered on the edge of unconsciousness when a warm, familiar power surged into him—gentle yet strong, dispelling the bone-chilling cold and slowly mending his damaged soul and bloodline.
He snapped his eyes open, jet-black orbs blazing with ferocity and the confusion of a new awakening. The silver flame power within him erupted instantly, spiderweb cracks spreading across the ice with a sharp crackling sound.
Amelia jumped back in shock, her heart pounding as she watched the cracks multiply. She had no idea what her touch had awakened, but the man's gaze when he opened his eyes was so overwhelming it left her breathless.
Crack!
A deafening crash echoed as the eternal ice coffin shattered into shards that scattered everywhere. Jackson stood slowly, the remaining ice melting away from him. His silver hair fluttered in the frigid air, and his jet-black eyes locked onto the woman before him.
He could sense she had awakened him, and her aura soothed his restless bloodline—a rare and special bond.
Amelia stared at the man who had seemingly risen from the dead, too stunned to speak. Tall and imposing, he radiated such coldness that the air around them seemed to drop several degrees. His scrutinizing gaze left her rigid with tension.
Jackson flexed his wrists, the joints cracking softly as his power rapidly returned—not yet at its peak, but more than enough to handle ordinary foes. He glanced around, taking in the unfamiliar scents in the air. Three years had passed; the world outside must have changed drastically. Kael was likely firmly seated on the Alpha throne, and Voss Group probably in enemy hands.
At the thought, his aura turned even colder, silver wolf patterns flickering faintly on his skin as the pressure of an Alpha spread outward. Amelia gasped, hugging her survey device tightly to her chest.
Jackson's gaze returned to the flustered Amelia. This woman had awakened him, and her unique aura made her too valuable to let go. He strode toward her, each step exuding the aura of a returning king, leaving no room for escape.
Amelia stepped back until her back hit a cold ice wall, nowhere left to run.
Just then, the distant roar of a helicopter echoed, and several familiar auras drew near—Kael's men! It seemed Kael had never stopped monitoring this ice field, sending his men the moment he detected energy fluctuations here.
Jackson's eyes darkened. This place was no longer safe. He grabbed Amelia's wrist firmly, his grip tight enough to make her wince.
"Come with me," his voice brooked no argument, leaving no room for negotiation.
Amelia struggled futilely, unable to break free as he dragged her toward the dense forest. The helicopter's roar grew louder, searchlights illuminating the ice field, and the shouts of Kael's men rang out behind them.
Jackson glanced over his shoulder, a flash of ruthlessness in his jet-black eyes. Kael, the three-year wait is over. What you owe me, I will make you repay a hundredfold!
Amelia, clutching tightly to his hand, was filled with confusion and unease. Who was this mysterious, domineering man? Why was he taking her? And who were the men chasing them?
The night deepened, and the polar wind howled, carrying unknown dangers and thrills into the distance. Jackson vanished into the forest with Amelia, leaving only shattered ice shards, closing pursuers, and a world on the brink of upheaval.