the alfa of four moons

The forest breathed like a living beast beneath the light of the moons. Four of them hung above the world — white, gold, crimson, and silver-blue — painting the sky in shades of desire and doom. The air trembled, heavy with prophecy. Kael stood at the edge of the ancient clearing, bare-chested, his breath misting in the cold night. His golden eyes glowed faintly in the darkness — a warning, a promise, and a curse. The wind howled through the trees, carrying the faint echo of howls far away, the sound of his pack restless under the call of the moons. He closed his eyes, feeling the pull of each light upon his skin. The white — gentle, pure, human. The gold — warm, radiant, devoted. The crimson — sharp, intoxicating, sinful. And the silver-blue — strong, faithful, silent. Four moons. Four paths. Four hearts that had touched his own — each leaving a mark deeper than claws. He should have felt powerful. He should have felt complete. Instead, he felt haunted. The prophecy whispered again in his mind, the same words that had followed him since his father’s death: > “When the Four Moons rise as one, the Alpha’s heart shall break or burn.” A shadow passed across the silver-blue moon. Kael’s wolf stirred inside him, a primal ache twisting through his chest. He tilted his head toward the heavens and let the beast’s growl rumble free — low, aching, filled with grief and rage. Because tonight, the moons had aligned. And Kael — son of the fallen king, heir of the Wolverines — knew that love and ruin were already on their way.