Lunar Legacies: The Eleven

2.

Nightsteel Pack

The sun bathed the training field in golden light, casting long shadows as the day began to wane. Seth stood in the center of the clearing, his body moving with fluid precision as he practiced with his pack members. Shadow tendrils flickered and swirled around him, responding to his every command. His concentration was absolute, focused on refining his control.

He barely noticed the figure approaching until a familiar voice broke through his focus.

"Seth."

His father’s voice, calm and commanding as always, carried across the field. Seth straightened, the shadows retreating as he turned to face the Alpha of their pack. His father,Dean Cooper, tall and broad-shouldered, exuded authority with every step.

"Join me in my office," his father said, his expression unreadable.

Seth nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow. Without hesitation, he fell into step beside his father, the pack members watching in respectful silence as they left the training grounds.

Inside the office, the atmosphere shifted. It was quieter here, more private. The weight of the Alpha’s mantle seemed to linger in the air, a reminder of the responsibility Seth would one day inherit.

His father took his seat behind the large oak desk, gesturing for Seth to sit as well. The older wolf’s eyes, sharp and calculating, met Seth’s with an intensity that made the young wolf straighten his back.

"I have something important to discuss with you," his father began, folding his hands in front of him.

Dean leaned back in his chair, his expression serious. "We don’t know when, and we don’t know where," he began, his voice low and steady. "But the ancient evil could return at any time."

Seth’s eyes narrowed, his mind racing. He had heard the stories, the warnings, but his father’s tone now carried an urgency he hadn’t felt before.

"We've come to an agreement, the Alphas and I," Dean continued. "You and the others with unique abilities—you're going to a specialized training camp. You’ll improve your control and sharpen your combat skills. This is bigger than any one pack."

Seth nodded, trying to mask his unease. He had always known he’d be part of something greater, but hearing it now, the weight of it settled over him like a heavy cloak. "How many are going?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Ten," his father replied, his gaze steady. "There should be eleven, but… the Stellar Crescent Pack. Twelve years ago."

Seth didn’t need the reminder. The tragedy was spoken of in whispers, a scar on their world. The pack was wiped out by the followers of the ancient evil.

Dean sighed, leaning forward. "I need you to be ready. This camp will push you beyond what you’ve ever faced. But you’ll be with the others. It’s time you all stand together."

Seth was silent for a moment, processing the news. Part of him was eager—this was a chance to prove himself, to grow stronger, but another part… "I want to go," he said finally, his voice firm but quiet. "But I’m not sure what this will mean for us. For me."

His father gave him a measured look, understanding the weight of his hesitation. "You’ll figure it out," Dean said softly. "You were born for this."

Seth stood in his room, staring at the half-packed duffel bag sprawled open on the floor. His clothes were piled haphazardly, a mix of T-shirts, sweatpants, and the worn hoodie that had been a staple of his wardrobe for years. He swallowed hard, trying to push away the knot forming in his stomach.