Chapter 4: Crimson Reign
1012 Words
The penthouse suite atop Blackwood’s tallest skyscraper was a monument to Viktor’s ambition. Marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and panoramic views of the city - all paid for in blood and bone. But tonight, the luxury did little to soothe the Southfang alpha’s fury.
Viktor paced, his bare feet silent on the polished stone. The full moon cast long shadows across his face, highlighting the jagged scar that bisected his left eye - a souvenir from a Northwood skirmish decades ago. His fists clenched, nails carving crescents into his palms. The She-Wolf had slipped through his fingers again.
“They underestimate me,” he snarled, his voice a low growl that echoed through the suite. “They think they can hide her forever.”
Beside him, his beta, Serena, stood rigid, her amber eyes reflecting his rage. “We’ll find her, Alpha. The city belongs to us.”
“Does it?” Viktor rounded on her, his voice like a whip c***k. “Then why does Alaric still breathe? Why does that b***h carry the key to our dominion?”
Serena flinched. The Southfangs ruled the streets, controlled the drug trade, and held the city’s politicians in their pockets. But the Northwoods held something more valuable: tradition. And now, Ylva.
Viktor stalked to the window, gazing out at the twinkling lights of Blackwood. He remembered a time before the skyscrapers, before the concrete canyons, when the city was just a forest, ruled by wolves. His ancestors had roamed free, their power unchallenged.
Then came the Northwoods. With their ancient rituals and self-righteous code, they claimed dominion, pushing the Southfangs to the fringes. Viktor’s father had fought them, bled for them, and died cursing Alaric’s grandfather.
Viktor would not repeat his father’s mistakes. He would not be relegated to the shadows. He would seize what was rightfully his.
He turned to Serena, his eyes blazing. “The bloodline’s power… it belongs to us. It’s our birthright.”
“But the first She-Wolf chose the Northwoods,” Serena said quietly. “The pact-”
Viktor silenced her with a snarl. “Pacts can be broken. Blood can be spilled. And with the She-Wolf’s blood, our pack will rise.”
He thought of his own oracle, a twisted crone who dwelled in the city’s sewers, her prophecies fueled by blood and madness. She’d foretold the coming of the She-Wolf, a woman who would either save or destroy them all.
“The child… it amplifies her power,” Serena murmured. “The Northwoods are protecting it fiercely.”
“Then we’ll tear them apart,” Viktor hissed. “We’ll make them beg for mercy. We’ll show them what happens when you defy the Southfang alpha.”
He thought of Alaric, his old rival. They’d fought countless times, their battles carving scars onto the city’s landscape. But Alaric had always held back, bound by his precious code.
Viktor had no such restraints.
He summoned his lieutenant, a hulking brute named Kaelen, whose loyalty was bought with promises of power. “Find the She-Wolf,” Viktor ordered. “I don’t care how you do it. Turn the city upside down. Gut every Northwood spy. Bring her to me.”
Kaelen bowed, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “It will be done, Alpha.”
As Kaelen departed, Viktor turned back to the window, his gaze hardening. He saw the city as a web, its threads connecting every street corner, every back alley, every hidden sanctuary. And he was the spider, waiting patiently for his prey to stumble.
A flicker of doubt crossed his mind. The first She-Wolf’s blood was volatile, unpredictable. What if the oracle was wrong? What if claiming her power unleashed something he couldn’t control?
He banished the thought. Fear was a weakness, a luxury he couldn’t afford. He would seize the power, bend it to his will, and crush any who stood in his way.
He summoned a young woman, barely more than a girl, her eyes wide with fear. “Bring me the Northwood pup we captured,” he ordered, his voice deceptively gentle.
The girl trembled but obeyed. Minutes later, she returned, dragging a Northwood scout by his hair. The scout’s face was bruised and bloody, his eyes pleading.
“Tell me where they’re hiding the She-Wolf,” Viktor purred, circling the scout like a wolf. “Tell me, and I’ll make your death quick.”
The scout spat in his face.
Viktor smiled. “Very well.”
He signaled to Serena, who produced a silver blade, its edge gleaming in the moonlight. Viktor took the blade, his eyes never leaving the scout’s.
“You know the Northwood code,” he murmured. “Loyalty above all else. But loyalty can be broken. Flesh can be torn. And secrets… they always spill.”
He pressed the blade to the scout’s throat, drawing a thin line of blood. The scout screamed, his body writhing.
“Where is she?” Viktor hissed.
The scout gasped, his eyes darting to Serena. He knew the Southfang beta’s methods. He knew what Viktor was capable of.
“I… I can’t,” he choked.
Viktor pressed harder, the blade sinking deeper. “Then die with your secrets.”
He plunged the blade into the scout’s heart, silencing his screams forever.
Viktor wiped the blood from his hands, his eyes cold and empty. “Dispose of the body,” he ordered. “And remind the pack: defiance will be met with pain.”
He stared out at the city, his hunger growing. He wanted power, dominion, the She-Wolf’s blood coursing through his veins. He wanted to crush Alaric, to see the Northwoods crumble, to claim his rightful place as Blackwood’s ruler.
The bloodline’s power was within his reach. He could taste it, feel it humming beneath the surface. He would not be denied.
Viktor raised his head, his nostrils flaring as a distant howl echoed through the night. The Northwoods were challenging him, daring him to strike. He smirked. They had no idea what he was truly capable of.
The hunt was on.
- Writer
