Resentment

Rain lashed against the bloodstained earth, washing crimson into the roots of the old trees. Wolves stood in tense formation, their eyes glowing in the stormlight, while witches cloaked in shadow waited for the first strike. The war between them had torn families apart, left packs in ruins. And now, it had come to this—a single heartbeat deciding the fate of both. Alira Eden stood in the center, her chest heaving, magic pulsing like a second heartbeat beneath her skin. The storm was hers, the wind bending to her fury, the lightning dancing to her call. She could end this fight with a whisper. But then her eyes fell on him—Victor Eden, her mate—bleeding and kneeling in the mud. And beyond him, a young Alpha Layton Moon lay sprawled in the dirt, his chest barely rising. The boy she should have hated, the one destined to lead her enemies… dying because her kind had unleashed this chaos. She couldn’t let it happen. Not like this. The night smelled of blood and smoke. Lanterns flickered weakly in the storm, their light trembling across faces carved with rage. Wolves stood shoulder to shoulder on one side, magic sparking faintly from the cloaked figures on the other. Every muscle was coiled for war. And in the middle of it all stood Alira Eden—a vision of quiet strength. Chestnut hair streaked with silver framed her sharp cheekbones, and her emerald cloak shimmered faintly with the hum of restrained power. Her fingers curled at her sides, hiding the glow that burned beneath her skin. The war between wolves and witches had raged for years, but tonight was different. Tonight, someone had spilled Alpha Moon’s blood. Layton’s parents were dead—ripped apart so violently even the earth seemed to mourn. “They were murdered by witches!” Cece Moon’s voice thundered over the field, her white hair whipping like a flag of vengeance. Her eyes glowed with Alpha fire as she pointed a clawed finger at the coven. “We found no wolf scent. No tracks. Only your stench of power!” Gasps and snarls rippled through the air. Wolves shifted, bones cracking, fur bursting through skin. The witches answered in kind, their palms igniting with sigils, shadows curling at their feet like serpents. Alira stepped forward before chaos could break. “Enough!” Her voice rang like a blade striking steel, silencing the storm for one fragile heartbeat. “There has been enough blood. Enough death.” Cece’s lip curled. “You dare speak of death when your kind brought it to our door?” Alira’s green eyes locked on hers, unflinching. “My kind? We bled for this land just as you did. Do not pretend wolves are blameless.” “I can save him,” Alira said, voice raw and sharp as lightning. Her emerald cloak clung to her, heavy with rain and blood. “But when I do, this war ends. Tonight. Do you hear me?” The wolves hesitated. The witches stared in silence. And then Cece Moon’s voice, cold and venomous, split the air. “Peace with a witch? Never.” But Layton’s Beta—his voice broke—“If the Alpha dies, we all burn.” "Please help my mate, we have young children." their Luna begs. Alira’s magic rose like a wave, crackling violet against the storm. She pressed her palms to Layton’s chest, chanting words older than any treaty. The wind howled. The earth shook. And in a single, shattering surge of power, the boy’s body jerked—life flooding back into his veins. Layton Moon opened his eyes. When the storm stilled, every face turned to her. Fear. Awe. Hatred. She had saved his life—but in doing so, she had sealed her fate. “You have my word,” she said, voice low but steady. “There will be no more blood. I will give up my magic. I will give up everything. Just… let us live in peace.” Victor’s eyes widened in horror. “Alira—” Her fingers brushed his cheek, trembling, but her smile was soft. “If this is the price, I will pay it.” The elders whispered. The terms were struck. And so the treaty was written—sealed in blood and sacrifice. What Alira didn’t know—what none of them knew—was the truth: A witch who gives up her magic gives up her life. Slowly. Quietly. By the time the lanterns were lit and the packs feasted under a banner of fragile peace, Alira Eden was already dying and the real enemy was not defeated. THIRTEEN YEARS LATER The air shimmered with the golden glow of lanterns as twilight blanketed the open field between Eden and Moon territory. Long tables overflowed with food and drink, laughter mingled with the rhythm of drums, and flickering torches marked the fragile border that—for one night only—symbolized peace. Peace. What a joke. Ariah Eden stood at the edge of it all, her hands curled into fists so tight her nails bit into her skin. Eighteen now, of age to shift—yet still as human as the day she was born. That single fact made her a walking target. Whispers snaked through the crowd like poison, and every hushed giggle felt like a dagger in her back. Her bright chestnut hair tumbled down her back in soft curls, her emerald-green dress clinging to a body she no longer recognized. She’d dressed to blend in, to look like the Alpha’s daughter she was supposed to be. But under the stares, under the judgment, she felt like prey. Her gaze swept the celebration: her mother, Daniela, glowing like royalty; her father, Alpha David Eden, towering with silent strength; Aiden, her brother, tossing nuts at laughing pups. And at the center of it all, her grandfather Victor—eyes sharp as blades, guarding secrets older than these torches. Then there was them. The Moon Pack. Alpha Layton Moon, stiff with pride, Luna Clara by his side, face frozen into that mask of disdain Ariah knew too well. Cece Moon, the pack elder—ancient, cruel, eyes like a vulture’s—studied Ariah as if she were something vile stuck to her boot. And the twins. Tobias and Talia. Talia, the girl who once held her secrets like treasures, now a stranger hiding behind folded arms and ice. Tobias… Tobias was worse. Broad-shouldered, jaw carved from stone, every move radiating that quiet, lethal confidence that made the air feel thinner. The boy who had once been her refuge, her almost-first kiss. Now? He looked through her like she was nothing. She swallowed hard and took a sip of juice, hoping it would calm the knot in her throat. That’s when it happened. “Look at her.” The words sliced the night like glass. “Pretending like she belongs.” Leila. Tobias’s girlfriend. Slinky green dress, lips curved in a smile sharp enough to bleed. She stepped into Ariah’s path, her voice loud enough to turn heads. “You really thought you’d ever be part of this pack?” Leila sneered, her tone dripping with venom. “Tobias only ever looked at you out of pity. Everyone knows that.” The knot in Ariah’s throat snapped. Her eyes flicked to Talia—pleading, begging for the girl who once called her sister to say something. Talia’s gaze met hers… then slid away like she couldn’t bear the sight of her. Leila laughed, sweet and cruel. “Oh honey. Even your best friend won’t defend you.” Heat crawled up Ariah’s spine. “Talia,” she said, voice shaking, “You’re not going to say anything?” Talia’s arms folded tighter. “I’m tired of cleaning up your messes, Ariah. You’ve been… different. Everyone feels it.” Anger ignited like kindling. “Different? Because I haven’t shifted? Or because something in me scares you?” “You don’t know what you are,” Talia snapped, her voice loud enough to hush the drums. “And that makes you dangerous.” Gasps rippled through the crowd. A circle was forming now, whispers turning to a low buzz. And then Tobias moved—slow, deliberate—stepping into the tension like a blade sliding free of its sheath. His voice was cold, cutting her deeper than Leila ever could. “You should leave, Ariah.” She flinched as if struck. “And let her win?” Her glare snapped to Leila. “You think humiliating me makes you Luna material? You’re pathetic.” Leila’s hand flew up, ready to slap. But before she could land the blow, Talia grabbed Ariah’s arm. “Enough—” That’s when it happened. BOOM. The earth shuddered. The torches erupted in sudden flames, twisting like they were alive. Sparks danced along Ariah’s skin, crackling violet-blue. The bonfire roared sky-high, flames clawing at the night like a beast unleashed. Screams. Gasps. Chaos. “Thats why she hasn’t even shifted!” “She’s cursed!” “She’s not a wolf!” Ariah stood in the eye of the storm, chest heaving, magic spilling from her like blood from a wound. Her hands glowed. Her eyes burned with light. And for the first time in her life… she felt powerful. And then came the voices that broke her. Tobias’s voice—quiet, brutal. “You just proved what we’ve all feared.” Talia, whispering like a stranger. “I don’t know what you are anymore.” The world tilted. The whispers became screams. And Ariah Eden realized one truth, sharp and merciless: She wasn’t one of them. She never had been.