The ruined kingdom stretched endlessly beneath the crimson sky. Broken towers, collapsed walls.Statues split in half.He walked slowly through it all, not like a conqueror or not like a king.
But like a man returning to a graveyard.Lyra followed a few steps behind him.
For the first time since his awakening
His arrogance was quiet.His shoulders, though still broad and powerful, carried something heavier than chains.
Memory.
He stopped before what had once been the throne hall.Only fragments remained.Wind passed through the broken arches like whispers of the dead.
"This is where she stood," he said suddenly.
His voice was calm.Too calm.
Lyra understood.... He is talking about his mate.
The air thickened around him.
"She believed peace was possible," he continued. "She believed I could become something other than what they feared."
A bitter smile curved his lips.
"She was wrong."
Lyra stepped closer.
"You don't know that," she said softly.
He didn't turn.
"They killed her in front of me."
The words weren't loud but they cut through the wind.Silence followed.
Lyra hesitated.
She had never comforted a king.Never comforted something ancient.But she stepped forward anyway.Her fingers brushed lightly against his arm.
"You lost more than a throne," she said quietly.
His body stilled at her touch.The crimson markings along his chest flickered faintly.
"You dare to pity me?" he asked.
There was no anger in it.Just tension.
"I don't pity you," Lyra replied. "I understand loss."
That made him turn.Slowly.His crimson eyes searched hers.Closer now...Too close.
She hadn't realized when the distance between them had vanished.
He was taller up close.Warmer.His presence overwhelming in a way that made her pulse quicken despite herself.
"You understand?" he repeated, stepping nearer.
She should have stepped back but she didn't.
The ruined kingdom faded into background.
All she could see was him.
The sharp line of his jaw.The faint glow beneath his skin.The way grief and fury coexisted in his eyes.Her breath grew uneven.
He noticed of course he did.A slow, knowing smirk touched his lips.
"So," he murmured, lowering his voice, "the fearless girl finally trembles."
"I am not trembling," she whispered.
"You are."
He leaned closer.Close enough that his breath brushed her cheek.The silver in her eyes shimmered faintly.The bracelet around her wrist hummed.
His gaze dropped briefly to her lips
To the faint mark where blood had dried earlier.
Something darker flickered in his expression.
Not hunger.Not cruelty.But awareness.
"You should not stand this close to me," he said softly.
"Why?" she challenged, though her voice was quieter now.
His hand lifted slowlyn ot grabbing or forcing.
Just hovering near her waist.
"Because I am not the gentle king she believed I could be."
Her heart pounded harder.
"And yet," she whispered, "you did not harm me."
That amused him.He brushed his fingers lightly against her waist this time.The contact sent a pulse of crimson and silver light through the broken hall.
Energy spiraled around them.The air crackled.Their powers reacting.Responding.
Drawn.
His expression shifted slightly.Less arrogance.More curiosity.
"You are dangerous," he murmured.
She swallowed.
"So are you."
For a moment Neither moved.The world felt suspended.
Then In the far distance, thunder rolled across the red sky. A reminder.War was not over.His hand dropped.The tension snapped but did not disappear.
It lingered.
He stepped back first.Control returning to his posture.
"This closeness," he said calmly, "is not weakness."
"It isn't," she agreed.
But neither of them looked entirely convinced.
High above the ruined kingdom Golden eyes watched from the edge of the forest shadows.
And they were not alone anymore.
BACK TO THE CLIFF OF THE MOUNTAIN:
The cliff was empty.Broken ritual symbols scarred the ground. Burned offerings lay scattered among cracked stone. The drums had been abandoned mid-beat, one split clean in half.
Wind moved freely now.No chanting.No villagers.Only silence and the faint scent of something ancient that had awakened.A shadow stretched across the ruined clearing.
Then....Footsteps.
Unhurried and measured.A tall figure emerged from the tree line.
He was dressed in dark fitted clothing, clean and precise, untouched by the chaos around him. His boots stopped at the edge of the shattered ritual circle.
Golden eyes scanned the damage.
Sharp...intelligent.
Amused.
His jawline was sculpted, expression composed, lips curved slightly as if the destruction entertained him. Dark hair fell neatly over his forehead, controlled unlike the wild aura he radiated beneath it.
He did not look like a beast.
He looked like a man who had already calculated the outcome.
The Alpha Werewolf.
He crouched slightly, brushing his fingers over the cracked rune carved into the earth.Still warm.Still humming with leftover magic.
His golden eyes flickered faintly.
"So," he murmured softly, voice smooth as silk, "you finally woke."
He stood again, gaze drifting toward the sealed cave doors.
They were open now.
Empty.
A slow smile spread across his face.
"I wondered how long it would take."
The wind shifted.
His eyes narrowed slightly as he inhaled.
And then....He froze.
There it was,
Faint and silver fair energy
His smile sharpened.
"Interesting."
He began walking toward the cave entrance, stepping over broken stone without hesitation.
Inside Only shattered chains remained.The prison was empty. He studied the marks left behind.Crimson scorch patterns.
Stone melted from pressure.No struggle.
No weakness.
"He's stronger," the Alpha whispered to himself.
He straightened slowly.Not worried.Not afraid.
Excited.Golden light flickered briefly in his irises.
After a moment, the air around him shimmered slightly.His pupils thinned.
For just a second
The beast beneath surfaced.Claws barely visible beneath human skin. Then gone.
Control restored instantly.He stepped back out of the cave and looked toward the distant horizon.Toward the ruined kingdom far beyond the mountains.
"I hoped," he said quietly, almost thoughtfully, "you would be angry."
His lips curved again.
"Anger makes you predictable."
His gaze shifted slightly.
"To awaken because of a sacrifice…"
A pause.
His expression darkened just a fraction.
"…means she exists."
The wind howled through the trees.
He closed his eyes briefly, sensing the faint silver pulse again.Then he chuckled.
"The game begins again."
He turned, hands sliding casually into his pockets.
"This time," he murmured, walking back toward the forest, "I will not need an army."
The trees swallowed him.And the broken cliff remained silent
Unaware that the true war had only just begun.