The lost Alpha

Chapter 5: The Split

The stronghold didn’t sleep that night.

News traveled faster than wolves could run. By dawn, every corner of Moonfang knew three things:

Lucien had made a deal with vampires. Kael carried Lyra’s mercy mark. And the Alpha’s seat was soaked in lies.

Kael went straight to the crypts, intentionally avoiding the throne room.

The air underground was cold and still, heavy with the scent of stone and old herbs. His parents’ sarcophagi sat side by side. Alaric’s was black granite, carved with battle scenes. Lyra’s was white marble, simple, unadorned just how she’d wanted it.

He knelt in front of her.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should’ve been here.”

The silence answered him.

A hand touched his shoulder. Selene. She didn’t speak. She just stood beside him, bow slung across her back, eyes fixed on the marble.

“She saved the Vampire Lord,” Selene said finally. “Ten years ago. I heard the elders talk once. A raid went wrong. She found him dying in the snow. Dragged him back to the border and let him go. No one knew except her and Alaric.”

“So she left me a shield,” Kael said. “Even dead.”

“Lyra always planned three moves ahead,” Selene said. “Unlike your father. Unlike your brother.”

Footsteps echoed down the stairs.

Garrick appeared, torch in hand, face lined with exhaustion. “The pack’s splitting,” he said without preamble. “Half want Lucien dead for treason. Half still think he’s the only thing keeping us from being slaughtered.”

“And you?” Kael asked.

“I served your father for forty years,” Garrick said. “I don’t serve traitors.”

He placed a wolf pelt on the stone between them. The old Alpha’s mantle.

“The border wolves are with you,” Garrick said. “They saw you at Outpost Seven. They saw you fight and bleed for them. Lucien sent orders to abandon the eastern ridge. You held it anyway. That means something.”

Kael didn’t touch the pelt. “I’m not Alpha.”

“Not yet,” Garrick said. “But you will be. Unless Lucien kills you first.”

He left them alone with the dead.

Selene picked up the pelt, studying it. “He’s giving you the pack. Just like that.”

“He’s giving me a target,” Kael said. “Lucien won’t let me walk out of here alive now.”

As if summoned, a howl cut through the air. Sharp. Warning.

Not a wolf.

Vampire.

Kael was on his feet in a heartbeat. Selene was already moving up the stairs, arrow nocked.

They burst into the courtyard to chaos.

Torches were knocked over. Smoke rose from the armory. Wolves were shifting, fighting shadows that moved too fast to track. The Vampire Lord stood in the center of it all, untouched, watching.

And beside him, Lucien.

In human form. Arms crossed. Face blank.

Kael stopped dead.

“Brother,” Lucien called out over the noise. “I told you we could rule together. You refused. So I made another choice.”

“You sold them the armory,” Kael said. His voice was low, dangerous.

“I gave them what they needed to survive,” Lucien replied. “Just like I gave them you. They wanted the Blackthorne bloodline ended. I told them I’d handle it. But the Lord changed his mind when he sensed Mother’s mark.”

“So what’s this?” Kael gestured to the fighting.

“A test,” the Vampire Lord said. He stepped forward, ice-blue eyes locked on Kael. “Let’s see if the son of mercy is as ruthless as the son of war.”

He snapped his fingers.

Two vampires dragged a woman forward. Young. Maybe eighteen. A Moonfang healer’s apprentice. She was bleeding from a bite on her neck. Not dead yet. But close.

“Choose,” the Lord said to Kael. “Kill her before she turns. That’s mercy. Or let her change, and watch her s*******r your pack. That’s war.”

The girl’s eyes met Kael’s. Terrified. Begging.

Selene moved to fire an arrow, but Kael caught her wrist. “No.”

“He’s forcing your hand,” she said. “If you kill her, they’ll say you’re a monster. If you don’t, she kills them.”

“I know,” Kael said.

He walked forward, slow. The vampires holding her tightened their grip. The Lord smiled.

Kael stopped in front of the girl. He could see the change starting, pale skin, elongated teeth, nails sharpening.

“Lyra wouldn’t have killed her,” Kael said quietly.

“And Lyra’s dead,” the Lord replied. “You’re not her.”

Kael crouched, putting himself at eye level with the girl. He pressed his forehead to hers for one second. A wolf’s gesture. A promise.

Then he drove his claws into her chest.

Fast. Clean. Before the fear could become rage.

She died with his name on her lips.

Silence.

The Lord stared at him, something unreadable in his expression. “Ruthless,” he said. “Just like I thought.”

“No,” Kael said, standing, blood dripping from his claws. “Merciful.”

He turned his gaze on Lucien. “You thought I’d hesitate. You thought I’d break. But you forgot who raised me. Mother taught me that mercy isn’t weakness. It’s choosing who dies so more can live.”

Lucien’s mask cracked. Just for a second. “You enjoyed that.”

“I did what had to be done,” Kael said. “Something you’ve never been able to do without selling your soul.”

The Lord tilted his head. “Interesting. You have her eyes when you’re angry.”

He stepped closer to Kael, ignoring the wolves snarling around them. “The deal with Lucien is void. I don’t bargain with oathbreakers. But I’ll make you a new deal, Kael Blackthorne.”

“I’m not bargaining with you,” Kael said.

“You already did,” the Lord said. “When you chose to kill instead of let her turn. You chose the lesser death. That’s vampire logic. You’re more like us than you want to admit.”

He leaned in, voice dropping so only Kael could hear. “Your mother didn’t just save me. She asked for a favor. One day, when the Moonfang line was in danger, I would owe her a life. I’m calling that debt now. Leave with me tonight, and I’ll let this pack live. Stay, and I’ll take it all.”

Kael went still.

Behind him, Selene shifted closer. Garrick’s wolves circled the courtyard, but no one moved. Everyone was waiting.

Kael looked at Lucien. At the throne. At the wolves who were watching him like he was either their savior or their end.

Then he looked at the Lord.

“You don’t get to take her debt and twist it,” Kael said. “Mother didn’t save you so you could threaten her son. She saved you because even monsters deserve a chance to be better.”

He stepped back. “So here’s my answer. No deal. Moonfang doesn’t kneel. Not to you. Not to him.”

The Lord’s smile vanished. “Then you’ve chosen war.”

“I chose it ten years ago,” Kael said. “When my father exiled me for defending myself. When my brother sold our home for a crown. War’s all I’ve ever known.”

The Lord’s eyes flashed red. “So be it.”

He raised his hand, and the vampires attacked.

Wolves howled. Steel clashed. The courtyard became a blur of blood and fur and fangs.

Kael moved. No hesitation. No mercy. He fought like exile had taught him: fast, brutal, precise. He tore through the first line of vampires, claws ripping, teeth bared.

Selene fought beside him, arrows finding hearts. Garrick and his wolves held the line at the gates.

In the chaos, Kael caught Lucien’s eye across the courtyard.

His brother didn’t join the fight. He just watched. And in that look, Kael saw it, jealousy, rage, and something darker. Fear.

Lucien shifted and disappeared into the smoke, heading for the palace.

Not to fight. To run.

Kael let him go.

For now.

He had a pack to save first.

And a war to win.