The Alpha's God-blood

Untitled Episode

EPISODE 1: "The Boy With God in His Blood"

SCENE 1: THE LIE THEY TOLD ME

I wasn’t supposed to exist.

That’s the first thing I learned. Before my name. Before my age. Before I knew what a "pack" was.

The elders said it in whispers when they thought I was asleep on the floor of the great hall.

"He shouldn’t be here."

"An abomination."

"The moon’s mistake."

My name is Max.

I’m 17.

And I’m half wolf, half human, and all wrong.

My mom was Luna.

She wasn’t a wolf.

She wasn’t human.

She was a moon being. A goddess made of silver light and tides.

The kind of thing stories are told about at night to scare pups.

My dad was an alpha.

Strong. Respected. The kind of wolf that makes other wolves bow.

He broke every law in the book when he loved her.

Pack law is simple: Wolves mate with wolves.

Nothing else.

But he chose her.

And she chose him back.

The cave walls in the old territory still have the prophecy carved into them. I saw it once when I was 10 and snuck out.

"When the moon bleeds, the light will walk in new skin. The mother must break so the son can live."

She died the night I was born.

Not "complications."

Not an accident.

She chose to die.

The wolves think they killed her. They take credit for it at every full moon meeting. "We ended the goddess threat."

They don’t know she gave me everything before she went.

The moon stone.

It’s in my drawer right now. Wrapped in an old cloth.

I’m not supposed to have it.

When I was born, I came out clutching it in my fist.

It pulsed like a heart.

Like it was scared.

A year after she died, my dad did what alphas do. He took a new mate.

A wolf. Fertile. Perfect. Pack approved.

Nine months later they gave the pack Nyla.

Nyla.

Golden hair. Golden eyes. The daughter the pack actually wanted.

They carried her on their shoulders when she shifted for the first time.

They looked at me like I was the shadow she cast.

"Keep him away from her," my stepmom said the first time I met her.

"He’s tainted. Goddess blood."

So they sent me away.

Human school. Human city. Human life.

"Stay hidden," my dad told me at the bus stop. His eyes didn’t meet mine.

"Don’t shift. Don’t bleed. Don’t be noticed. Don’t be her."

I followed the rules.

For 17 years I followed the rules.

SCENE 2: HUMAN SCHOOL, GOD EYES.

First day of senior year. New school. New chance to be nobody.

I wore a hoodie. Kept my head down. Sat in the back.

The plan was simple: Graduate. Disappear. Don’t let the moon rise inside me.

"You look lost," a voice said.

I looked up.

Tom.

6’2. Football jacket. Smile like he owned the hallway.

"I’m Tom. You’re the new kid. Max, right? I saw your name on the roster."

I nodded. Didn’t talk.

"Cool, cool. Well, if you need anything, I’m the guy. Directions, lunch, how not to get killed in gym. I got you."

He walked away before I could answer.

Next period, English.

I felt it before I saw her.

Eyes.

Audrey.

Back row. Black hoodie. Hair covering half her face.

She wasn’t looking at me.

She was looking _through_ me.

Like she could see the stone in my backpack.

Like she could see the silver under my skin.

I ignored it.

Ignored the way my hands itched when the sun went down.

Ignored the dreams.

Every night the same dream.

A woman with silver hair, singing.

Sleep my little star, sleep my moonlight son.

I’d wake up with the taste of moonlight in my mouth.

Lunch. Tom sat with me.

"So what’s your story, Max? Transfer? Witness protection?"

"Something like that."

"Cool. Mysterious. Girls love that."

I almost smiled.

Then I saw Audrey across the cafeteria.

She was watching me again.

And this time, her shadow moved wrong.

It stretched up behind her like wings.

I blinked and it was gone.

Last period. The burn started.

Under my sleeve.

Slow. Then hot.

Like someone pressed a coin to my skin.

I gripped the desk.

Tom noticed. "Yo, you good? You’re pale."

"Fine."

The bell rang.

I bolted to the bathroom and locked the door.

Rolled up my sleeve.

Symbols.

Faint. Silver. Carving themselves into my skin.

God language.

The same symbols from the cave wall.

"Not yet," I whispered.

"Not here."

But the moon was already rising.

SCENE 3: THE ARGUMENT

I came home to an empty house.

Dad and Nyla were at a pack run.

Good.

I went straight to my room.

Opened the drawer.

The cloth was moving.

The moon stone was humming.

It used to be hers.

My mom’s.

It lived in her chest.

Now it lived in a drawer, and it sounded angry about it.

The door opened.

Nyla.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"You’re not supposed to be here. This is pack night."

"Dad said I could stay for school."

She stepped in. Closed the door.

Golden. Perfect. Furious.

"You’re wearing that?" She pointed at my hoodie. "You look human."

"I am human. Half."

"Don’t say that." She spat. "You’re not human. You’re not wolf. You’re nothing."

My hands started to burn.

I shoved them in my pockets.

"The pack still talks about her," Nyla said softly.

"About your mother."

"Don’t."

"They say she screamed. That the moon turned red. That dad held her while they—"

"SHUT UP!"

The lights flickered.

The stone in the drawer got hotter.

Nyla smiled. "See? You can’t even control it. That’s why they killed her. She couldn’t be controlled either."

"Get out."

"Make me, abomination."

I didn’t.

I walked out.

Because the rules.

Don’t shift. Don’t bleed. Don’t be noticed.

But in my room, the stone cracked.

Just a little.

SCENE 4: THE AWAKENING

Night.

I was alone.

The stone was screaming now.

Not with sound. With light.

Silver and gold pouring out of the cracks in the cloth.

I grabbed it.

Fire shot up my arm.

Not fire. Memory.

A woman’s hands.

Silver hair.

"Max," she said. "My light."

The pain wasn’t pain.

It was remembering her.

The stone cracked fully in my palm.

And the world broke.

Light poured into me.

Into the cuts on my hand.

Into my veins.

Into my bones.

"Max?!"

Tom.

How was Tom here?

He was shaking me. We were on the floor.

The lights were dead. My curtains were smoking.

"Get off me," I choked out.

I blinked.

And the world changed.

God Sight.

That’s what it felt like.

Like someone pulled a curtain off the world.

Tom glowed faint blue. Human. Safe.

The walls had cracks of energy running through them, like veins.

Outside, I could see them.

Wolves. Three of them. Circling the house.

And in my doorway.

Audrey.

She wasn’t scared.

She was standing there, in my burning room, and she was looking at me like she’d been waiting.

Her shadow had wings.

Big. Feathered. Folded behind her like she was trying to hide them.

"What are you?" she whispered.

"I don’t—"

Symbols carved themselves up my arms.

Across my chest.

God language.

It hurt and it felt like coming home.

Glass shattered downstairs.

A howl.

"Max!" Tom yelled. "We gotta go!"

But I couldn’t move.

Because Audrey stepped closer.

And when she did, I saw it.

Under her skin.

A mark.

A moon.

The same moon my mom used to have on her collarbone.

"Fated," Audrey said. Her voice was shaking.

"The moon marked me for you. For Luna’s son."

"I’m Max," I said.

"I know," she said. "That’s why I’m here."

Another crash. Closer.

And then she was there.

Nyla.

In my house.

Eyes completely black. No white. No soul.

"Found you, brother," she said. But her voice wasn’t hers.

It was deeper. Older. The Alpha’s voice.

"Father says the prophecy isn’t finished. The moon must die twice."

The stone in my hand pulsed.

And I felt it.

A memory left me.

The sound of my mom’s lullaby.

Gone.

Snatched away as payment for the power burning in my veins.

"Run," I told Tom.

But Audrey didn’t move.

She held out her hand.

"Or we fight."

"You’re human," I said.

"I am," she said. "And I’m yours. Whether you want it or not."

Nyla tilted her head.

"You think you can protect him, little bird?"

Little bird.

Audrey’s shadow wings flared behind her.

Outside, more howls.

The pack was here.

The stone pulsed again.

And I understood.

I wasn’t supposed to exist.

But I did.

I was Luna’s light.

And the hunt had started.

For the first time in 17 years,

I wasn’t running alone.