❝ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇᴡᴏʟꜰ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀɪᴇꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴜꜱᴜᴀʟʟʏ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴀɴ ᴀʟᴘʜᴀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴍᴇɢᴀ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡᴀꜱɴ'ᴛ?❞
For generations, the Blood Moon Pack and Grave Shadow Pack have been at war, the werewolves from each side bearing high tensions and malicious in...
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Jax has the ugliest bedroom in existence.
As Cyrus scrunches up his nose at the horrifying absence of colors and decor, he strides over to the nearest window to part the black curtains open. He hopes to get some moonlight in here, maybe brighten up this desolate void they're in, but Jax beats him to the chase by slapping his hand away.
"Don't touch anything."
Frowning, Cyrus shoots a glare at the ceiling, as if Luna is still there and watching over them somehow, and exclaims, "So what, he can't punch me, but he can still slap me? That doesn't seem fair. None of this seems fair, moon goddess!"
"What are you–" Scoffing, Jax stops himself and resorts to rolling his eyes instead. "She's not even watching right now. She can't hear you. And even if she can, do you really think she'd care after the hex?"
Instead of answering, Cyrus launches an open palm against his head and slams his face against the window. Or at least, he tries to anyway.
But no, the stupid magical barrier interferes. With a hard clink, his hand bounces off the icy exterior of the forcefield projection. It's almost as if he's digging into frozen plate armor. In the blink of an eye, the shield fades out of sight, leaving him baffled and with even more unresolved questions.
"I know." Scowling, Jax slides the curtains shut with a grating jolt, concealing a sliver of moonlight from peeping through. "I hate you too."
The urge to strangle him burns.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
The Trials were a right of passage hosted once every generation. As the current top alphas of their packs stepped down from their thrones, all teenage alphas were to partake in The Trials around this same time. To ensure their worth in life, they were pitted against their adolescent peers and expected to fight until their last breath.
Only the strongest prevailed. The higher their ranking, the better they were treated. Alphas vs alphas. Whoever came out as number one from their respective pack would win the title of their new leader.
With powerhouses like Blood Moon and Grave Shadow, they not only had to face their own peers, but also the other top alphas from their conquered colonies as well. If Lumare or Frosthide ever got their chance to beat the number one from Grave Shadow, Jax Sterling, then freedom would be their reward.
Jax still recalled the night he first met Leon.
The arena they were thrown in had been extra rowdy, swarming with lousy spectators from all walks of life. Chatter buzzed, shouts thundered, microphone tests ricocheted off the caged walls. Alphas, betas, and omegas alike gathered together. Naturally, they hailed from either Grave Shadow or Lumare, standing on opposite ends of their audience seats to reflect which pack they rooted for.
