Kei
Fire.
My home is on fire.
Flames tear through rooftops like starving beasts finally unleashed. Timber cracks. Sparks explode into the night sky. Smoke rolls thick and black, swallowing the stars above Ashen Vale.
Ashen Vale.
The name tastes bitter now.
Every structure I rebuilt with my own hands. Every wall reinforced. Every patrol route redrawn. Every training ground carved from stubborn earth.
Burning.
Wolves shout over one another. Some are half-shifted—claws out, fangs bared, fur bristling through skin as instinct battles discipline. The air reeks of smoke, blood, and panic.
And I know.
I f*****g know who did this.
My father.
The old Alpha who refused to die quietly.
He promised he’d return.
He waited. And he struck when I was gone.
“s**t,” I breathe, jaw tightening
