Blood and tears

In the shifter world, power is everything and power is ranked.

At the top sit the wolves, rulers by blood and birthright, crowned as kings and queens. Beneath them are the lesser shifters: smaller wolves, foxes. Then come the unshifted humans without animal forms, but gifted in magic, capable of healing wounds and bending there magic to there will And finally, there are people like me.

The ungifted.
The forgotten.

Ares Thorn was born to rule.

He is the next heir to Illoraeth, the Silver City, and the last living dragon shifter a secret his family guards with blood and fire. Arrogant, dangerously charming, and known for leaving broken hearts in his wake, Ares wears his perfection like armor. He knows his power. He knows the world will one day kneel. And he has never once doubted his place in it.

Nyx Vale was never meant to matter.

I was the black sheep of my family, born with beta blood in a lineage that valued strength above all else. My twin brother, Cael, and I stood out from the moment we were born white hair, piercing blue eyes, traits unheard of among shifters. Different enough to whisper about. Strange enough to fear.

But whispers turn cruel when fate takes too long.

On my fourteenth birthday the day I was meant to shift everything changed. Cael transformed into a massive, pure white wolf, powerful and rare, the kind of creature legends were written about. The village celebrated him as a miracle.

I never shifted.

My parents told me it would come with time. That I was only late. But days turned to months, and months into years. The longer I remained human, the louder the rumors grew. Pity became suspicion. Suspicion became hatred.

In a world where power defines your worth, I had none.

Or so they thought.