Chapter 3: The Heartstone’s Last Stand

But all she got in response was my claws, slicing through the air.

I raised my hand, claws flashing in the moonlight. The air between us shimmered with tension—love turned to fear in an instant.

The necklace at her throat flared, wrapping her in red light.

The charm flared to life, casting a warm red glow over her face. It was the same necklace her father had given her on our wedding night—a piece of old magic, meant to keep her safe from everything, even me.

It was the only keepsake her father left her—the Heartstone. True to its name, this charm can’t hurt anyone, but its defense is legendary. Even with one foot past mortal limits, I couldn’t break through it.

The shield pulsed with every heartbeat, holding my claws at bay. For a second, I almost respected her for it. But I snarled in frustration, the taste of failure bitter on my tongue. The Heartstone was old magic, and tonight, it was the only thing standing between her and oblivion.

Clutching Jamie’s corpse, she dashed toward the main gate, shouting as she ran, "Everyone, run! The Alpha’s lost his mind!"

She moved with a speed born of terror. Jamie’s body was cradled in her arms. Her voice rang out, desperate and commanding, cutting through the chaos. The pack scattered, panic overtaking loyalty.

The moment she crossed the threshold, a bolt of lightning struck her from above.

The sky split open with a deafening crack, lightning arcing down like the world itself was ending. The scent of ozone and burning flesh filled the air. For a heartbeat, everything went blindingly white.

The Heartstone’s glow winked out, and where my wife had stood, there was nothing but ash and the faint smell of roses. Jamie’s body fell to the ground, lifeless and alone.

The barrier. Our last defense.

For a thousand years, countless enemies had attacked Silver Hollow, but as long as this barrier stood, the pack had never fallen.

I remembered the stories—hunters turned to ash, rival packs broken on the threshold. The barrier was legend, a symbol of our strength. Now, it was just another weapon in my hands.

That had never happened before.

There was a sick irony in it. The thing meant to protect us had become the instrument of our destruction. I wondered, for a moment, if the old gods were laughing.

Generations ago, my father-in-law had been one of the most powerful werewolves of his time. The charm he left was truly remarkable.

He’d been a legend, a force of nature. The Heartstone was his legacy—a final act of love for his daughter. Tonight, it wasn’t enough.

But after a thousand years, even the greatest treasures lose their invincibility.

Everything fades, in the end.

Even magic, even love.

One lightning strike—nothing left.

The sky rumbled, echoing my loss. The world felt emptier, colder.

"Alpha, what the hell just happened?"

"Dad, did that old hunter show up again? Where’s Mom?"

"Alpha, why did you kill my mentor?"

...

Their voices blurred together, a cacophony of confusion and fear. The pack pressed in, searching for answers, clinging to the last shreds of order. Their faces were masks of grief and disbelief.

I walked through the main gate, and the pack swarmed me.

They looked to me for guidance, for hope. Some reached out, desperate for reassurance. Others shrank back, fear in their eyes. The bond we’d shared was broken, replaced by a cold, deadly certainty.

Some were my sons and grandsons, some were the Betas’ kin, but most were just ordinary pack wolves who had no idea what was happening.

I saw familiar faces—nieces, nephews, friends I’d known for centuries. Their trust was a blade twisting in my gut. But I was past the point of mercy.