✦ Chapter 02 ✦
Elian had cried until there was nothing left in him to give. His throat was raw, his eyes swollen and red, but the tears refused to fall anymore. He lay sprawled over his father's chest, the once-familiar warmth replaced by the cold weight of death. Every few moments he would shake the lifeless body, whispering broken pleas into the silence.
"Please… please wake up. Don't leave me."
But the body beneath him didn't stir. The gash at his father's throat had long stopped bleeding, leaving a dark stain that clung to Elian's hands and clothes. The scent of iron filled the room, heavy and suffocating. The warmth that had once been his comfort was gone, replaced by the kind of stillness that eats at the soul.
He pressed his ear to his father's chest one last time, desperate for even the faintest heartbeat. There was none.
When he finally stood, his legs wobbled beneath him. Around him, the home that had once been filled with laughter and the scent of food now reeked of smoke and blood. Furniture was overturned, walls scorched. The pack that had once been a safe haven for Omegas had fallen to ruin.
Now there was nothing left — no warmth, no voices, no home. Only ashes.
Elian turned back to his father's body and sank to his knees. His trembling hands reached for the silver chain around his father's neck. The small yin-yang pendant glinted dully under the faint light. Only the yang half remained; his mother had worn the yin.
He held it tightly in his fist, pressing it to his lips.
"I promise… I'll find her," he whispered. His voice cracked, breaking the still air. "I'll bring her back, Father. I swear it. I won't rest until I do."
He slipped the necklace around his own neck, the metal cold against his skin, and stood slowly. His limbs felt like stone, his body hollow, but his heart pulsed with a fragile determination that kept him upright.
He found his coat hanging near the stairway — scorched at the edges, smelling faintly of smoke — and slipped it on. Then he turned toward the front door, gripping the handle with trembling fingers.
He looked back one last time at the home that had once held his entire world, now reduced to ruin.
"Goodbye," he whispered.
The hinges creaked softly as the door swung open, and the chill night air rushed in.
Elian stepped out and began to run.
He didn't know where he was going — he only knew he couldn't stay. He ran past shattered fences and burning homes, past the remains of his pack's territory. His lungs burned, his legs screamed for rest, but he didn't stop. He ran as though distance itself could drown his grief.
Eventually, the air began to change. The thick smoke gave way to the scent of grass and earth. The charred trees faded into green, and the ground beneath his feet softened with life again.
He slowed, chest heaving, and collapsed to his knees in a small meadow scattered with wild tulips. Their delicate scent drifted up to him — fresh, floral, achingly familiar. His mother's scent.
A sob tore from his throat. He pressed his face into the flowers, his fingers clutching at the stems until they bent beneath his grip. "I hate this," he whispered hoarsely. "I hate being alone."
The sky above him was soft with dawn light, pale pink against the lingering smoke. He didn't know how long he stayed there, crying into the earth. Eventually, the wind shifted. Something — someone — was watching him.
He froze.
Slowly, he lifted his head.
At the edge of the meadow, half-hidden by the shadows of the trees, stood a man. His eyes glowed red — not the red of blood, but something deeper, like garnets lit from within. His skin was pale as porcelain, untouched by the grime of the world, and his long black hair flowed like ink down his shoulders. He wore robes of deep black, stitched with faint silver threads that looked ancient and out of place.
The man said nothing. He simply watched Elian, his head tilting slightly, his expression unreadable.
Elian's heart pounded. He stumbled backward, grass crushing beneath his boots. "Who… who are you?" he stammered.
The man didn't answer immediately. Instead, his lips curved slightly — not quite a smile, not quite a sneer. "Such lovely ears you have," he murmured in a low voice that carried easily across the space between them.
Elian frowned, confused, until instinct made him reach up. His fingers brushed against something soft and furred. His blood ran cold.
His ears.
They were visible. The powder's effect was wearing off. His Omega traits were showing again.
His breath caught in panic. If the man before him was an Alpha, he would be as good as dead.
Elian's violet eyes darted up to meet the stranger's, but the man's expression hadn't changed. If anything, he looked almost amused — eyes glowing faintly in the light, like a predator who had just found something interesting.
Then, slowly, the stranger smiled.
The sight of it made Elian's stomach twist.
What was this creature?
✦ End of Chapter ✦