THE LAST HEIR OF VEILMOOR THRONE

Twenty Years Ago The battlefield was no place for a child. And yet, there she sat. Small. Helpless. A fragile thing surrounded by death and destruction. The scent of blood was thick in the air, mixing with smoke as fire consumed what remained of the once-mighty kingdom of Veilmoor. The ground, once strong beneath the feet of warriors, was now littered with bodies—some still gripping their weapons, others lying motionless, their unseeing eyes staring at nothing. She did not cry. She did not move. She did not yet understand the war that had stolen everything from her. And then, she saw shadows moving behind the smoke. A soft gasp of amusement escaped her lips as the ground trembled beneath the weight of something massive. Wolves. Not just any wolves—warriors. They were larger than any she had ever seen, their bodies stained with the blood of those who had dared to resist them. Their golden eyes flickered like burning embers, their growls low and menacing. They were not here to save her. One of them stepped forward, his dark fur streaked with red, his towering form radiating power and dominance. His name was Kazee the most strongest warrior in midnight pack. But as his sharp gaze locked onto her, she did not cower. Instead, she stretched out her small hands and touched his fur. A little smile crept onto her face—innocent, unknowing. She did not feel the pain around her because she was too young to understand what pain was, let alone death. Another soldier shifted uneasily behind Kazee “What do we do with the child?” The question sliced through the air like a blade. Would they kill her? Leave her to die? The warrior before her did not look away. His sharp eyes studied her—this fragile, cheerful girl who had done nothing to deserve this fate. She was small, barely a breath of life against the devastation around her. A child of war, yet untouched by it. He exhaled slowly, then turned to the other warriors. “I will take her.” “But Alpha Regan ordered every soul to be wiped out,” another warrior muttered. “She does not deserve to die for the sins of the world,” Kazee replied. A few other warriors murmured in agreement. And so, they took her. Without the Alpha's knowledge. The destruction of Veilmoor had not been a conquest. It had been a m******e. A prophecy, whispered through the ages, foretold the rise of a queen from Veilmoor’s Moonfire Pack—a ruler destined to bring balance to the supernatural realm. But Alpha Regan Draven, the most feared warlord of his time, did not believe in balance. He believed in domination. Under his rule, the Midnight Pack had become the strongest of all, their power unrivaled. But the prophecy threatened that power. It spoke of a queen whose bloodline would surpass all Alphas, a force of nature that could shift the balance of the supernatural world. Regan could not allow that. He led his army into Veilmoor like a storm of death, slaughtering the Moonfire Clan and burning their kingdom to the ground. He erased their existence from history. Every royal. Every warrior. Every child. All so that the Midnight Pack would remain the highest power. But fate is not so easily rewritten. Twenty years had passed. The war that had once drowned the land in blood was now nothing more than a tale. Under the rule of Alpha Kael Draven, the son of Alpha Regan Draven, the packs thrived. But nature remained unbalanced. Alliances crumbled. Not until Seraphina arrived. She claimed to restore peace. And for a time, it seemed as if she had. But peace did not reach everyone. Especially not for a slave like me. I moved like a ghost within the Midnight Pack, my presence barely acknowledged, my existence nothing more than an afterthought. From the moment I was brought to this place, I had learned one unshakable truth: I was nothing. A shadow. A nameless servant who knew nothing of warmth, kindness, or a life beyond the cold stone walls of the servant quarters. I had no past. No family. Only orders. Only punishment when I failed. I scrubbed floors until my fingers bled, carried trays of food I wasn’t allowed to eat, and never, ever raised my head when the pack walked by. I had seen others break. Slaves who collapsed under the cruelty, who vanished one day and were never spoken of again. I had learned early that crying changed nothing. That kindness had no place in this world. And so, I hardened myself. I tried not to cry. I only survived. But today… something was different. Warriors moved with hurried steps. I kept my head down, as I always did, but whispers thick with excitement and urgency curled through the corridors. “Did you hear?” a servant murmured nearby. “The Alpha is choosing a mate tonight.” A mate. Of course. It was expected. Alpha Kael was feared and admired, the strongest leader the packs had seen in decades. But strength alone was not enough. He needed a Luna. And tonight, under the full moon, the bond would decide. My hands trembled as I gripped the tray. I had dreamt of this moment three times before. Each time, I saw myself being mated to Alpha Kael. But every time he tried to mark me—his eyes turned blood-red. Each time, I woke up gasping for breath, the side of my neck burning as if it had been touched by fire. But I shrugged it off. I had always wanted a mate—a way to escape the Midnight Pack. Maybe that was why I had those dreams. Maybe it was nothing more than a desperate wish. I scoffed at my own thoughts. What does it matter to me? I was a servant. A wolf without a name. Without a future. The heavy bell rang, echoing through the grand halls. It was time for the mating ceremony. Wolves from all over the territory had gathered—warriors, nobles, leaders of powerful families. The mate ceremony was a sacred event, a night of fate, where the moon itself would guide an Alpha to his destined mate. The great hall of the Midnight Pack was transformed for this ritual, bathed in the silver glow of the full moon. Torches lined the towering stone walls, with a strange blue fire, a mystical flame that only burned during such ceremonies. The scent of burning incense, pine, and damp earth lingered in the air, mixing with the warmth of many bodies pressed together in anticipation. The wolves wore their finest garments—deep-colored robes of midnight blue, red, and silver, embroidered with the insignias of their lineages. The noble daughters, the highest-ranked females, stood at the front, their flowing silk dresses shining in the dim torchlight, adorned with golden thread work and delicate moonstone jewelry. Their hair was braided with wolf fangs and silver beads, marking them as warriors, as worthy mates of an Alpha. They stood tall, proud, waiting. Waiting to see who the moon would choose. I was only supposed to serve. To move unseen and make sure no guest is left without having their meal. But then… The first rays of moonlight spilled through the grand windows, touching Alpha Kael’s skin. The room fell into silence. The sacred bond began to weave through the air—a golden thread of fate, twisting and searching. It drifted past the noblewomen. Past the warriors. Past the daughters of Alphas who stood, breathless, waiting. It did not stop for them. It did not choose them. The golden thread glowed, twisting like a living thing, seeking… searching… Until it stopped. Until it pointed at the last person anyone expected