The archives beneath the Obsidian Keep smelled like old blood and older secrets. Stone corridors twisted down into darkness, lit by torches that burned with greenish flame, fed by something that was not quite oil. I descended alone, my footsteps echoing against walls carved with runes that predated the empire itself.
Most Alphas avoided this place. The air down here felt wrong, heavy with the weight of forgotten things that perhaps should have stayed forgotten. But I had stopped fearing the past years ago. The past was just information waiting to be weaponized.
I found Mireth three levels down, surrounded by scrolls and ancient texts that crumbled at the edges. She did not look up when I entered, her fingers tracing symbols on a parchment so old it looked like it might disintegrate from her breath alone.
"You told Thorne you found something," I said.
"I found many things. Most of them are useless. Some of them are terrifying." She finally looked up, her gray eyes reflecting the green torchlight. "Did you know the first Alphas were not born? They were made."
"I know the legends. Human warriors who underwent blood rituals to gain strength and healing. Mythology to explain our origins."
"Not mythology. Fact." She gestured to the texts surrounding her. "These are records from the ritual masters who performed the transformations. Detailed instructions, ingredient lists, success rates. They were turning humans into weapons, creating the first Lycan bloodlines through sacrifice magic."
I moved closer, examining the scrolls without touching them. The symbols were primitive but recognizable, similar to the runes that had activated in my throne room. "Why does this matter now?"
"Because the mate bond was not part of the original design. It was added later, a modification meant to create pack cohesion and prevent the new Alphas from killing each other immediately." She pulled another scroll forward. "According to this, the first generation of Lycans were like you. Solitary, bonded to nothing, driven entirely by individual will. They were too dangerous, too unpredictable. So the ritual masters created the bond system to domesticate them."
The implications settled over me like cold water. "I am not an aberration. I am a throwback."
"Exactly. You are what Lycans were meant to be before someone decided we needed leashes." Mireth's voice carried something I rarely heard from her, excitement. "The resurrection magic your enemies are using, it is a corruption of the original transformation rituals. They are making new Alphas from dead flesh, but without the bond modifications. That is why the resurrected ones are so dangerous. They are operating on the original template."
I considered this carefully. "If bonds were added later, they can be removed."
"Theoretically, yes. But the cost would be catastrophic." She stood, pacing between the scattered texts. "The bond system is woven into every living Lycan now. Removing it would be like tearing out your own veins. Some would survive. Most would not."
"But those who survived would be stronger."
"Or they would be broken shells with nothing holding them together. The texts are not clear on outcomes. The ritual masters abandoned this line of research after too many subjects went mad."
I walked to the wall where the oldest runes were carved, running my fingers over symbols that had existed before my grandfather's grandfather was born. "The prophecy said I would fall to weakness from within. Everyone assumes it means betrayal, conspiracy, my own flaws. But what if it means the bond system itself is the weakness?"
Mireth went very still. "You are considering removing the bonds from your entire empire."
"I am considering options. If my enemies are using unbonded resurrection warriors, fighting them with bonded troops is a disadvantage. Every connection my warriors have is a vulnerability those dead things do not possess."
"You would destroy what defines us as a species to win a war."
"I would do whatever is necessary to survive. That has always been my method." I turned to face her. "Can it be done? Truthfully."
She was quiet for a long moment, her analytical mind working through possibilities. This was why I valued her. Mireth did not flinch from ugly truths. She calculated outcomes without sentiment clouding her judgment.
"The ritual would require massive sacrifice. Not just blood, but living essence. You would need to kill thousands to generate enough power. And there is no guarantee it would work. The texts suggest a fifty percent mortality rate among subjects, and that was with controlled individual transformations. Attempting it empire wide could kill half your population."
"Leaving the other half unbonded and stronger."
"Or leaving them traumatized and weakened, easy prey for human kingdoms and rogue packs who retained their bonds." She shook her head. "This is madness, Kaedor. Even for you."
"Madness is doing the same thing while expecting different outcomes. I have ruled through fear for fifteen years. It worked because I was the most dangerous thing in any room. But now I face enemies I cannot intimidate, warriors who do not fear death because they are already dead. Traditional strength is not enough."
I moved back to the texts, examining the ritual diagrams. The symbols showed circles within circles, bodies positioned at specific points, channels carved to direct flowing blood. It looked less like magic and more like engineering, precise and mechanical.
"How long would you need to prepare for the ritual?"
"Weeks. Maybe months. I would need to verify every symbol, cross reference with other sources, and test the power requirements." Mireth's voice had gone flat, the tone she used when describing necessary evils. "And we would need the sacrifices. Thousands of them, all killed in specific ways at specific times. It would be systematic slaughter on a scale the empire has never seen."
"Every war I have fought involved systematic slaughter. This would simply have a purpose beyond territory."
"The other Alphas would revolt the moment they understood what you were planning. No one would willingly give up their bonds."
"Then we would not tell them until it was too late to resist." I looked at her directly. "I am not asking for your approval, Mireth. I am asking for your assessment. Can this work?"
She met my gaze with her usual cold clarity. "Yes. It can work. Whether it should is a different question entirely."
"I have never cared about should. Only can." I gathered several of the most relevant texts. "Continue your research. I want complete ritual specifications, required resources, and optimal timing. And absolute secrecy. If anyone learns of this before I am ready, they die. Including you if you are the leak."
"Understood." She turned back to her scrolls without further comment.
I climbed back through the dark corridors, carrying texts that described how to unmake my entire species. The torches cast my shadow long against the stone walls, and for a moment I looked like something larger than myself, something monstrous and inevitable.
Perhaps the prophecy was right. Perhaps I would fall to weakness from within.
But I would take the entire world down with me if that fall came.