Chapter 2:
Her words struck harder than any accusation from the elders. As she turned and walked away, her absence left a gaping void in the clearing. For a moment, I almost called out to her, almost begged her to stay. But I didn’t. The damage was already done.
I left that night, each step heavy with the weight of everything I was giving up: the pack I’d grown up with, the home I’d known, and the future I’d dreamed of. And Elara…
Elara, who had been my constant, my anchor—the one wolf who had seen me for who I truly was and believed in me anyway.
I told myself I would be fine on my own, that leaving Talon Pack was a chance to find a new path. But deep down, a part of me knew that something had been left behind, something I could never truly recover. Talon Pack had been more than just a home—it had been my purpose, my future. And Elara… she had been my anchor, my constant. Even now, years later, her face haunted my memories, a reminder of everything I’d given up, everything I’d failed to protect.
(Elara’s POV)
After Dante left, Talon Pack was never quite the same. The pack felt quieter, the routines we’d once followed so naturally now feeling hollow. I told myself I didn’t miss him, that his absence was a blessing—that we were better off without the chaos he brought, without the constant tension of his ambitions clashing with the elders’ traditions. But that was a lie, and I knew it.
I missed him every day.
His departure was the beginning of my journey to becoming Alpha. As the council’s suspicions about Dante spread to the rest of the pack, I was left to step into the space he’d left behind. I took on more responsibilities, proving my loyalty, my commitment, to every wolf who needed reassurance that I would be a leader they could trust. I was quieter than Dante, steadier, the kind of wolf who didn’t threaten the stability they craved. The elders saw me as reliable, and I grew into that role because I had to.
But there were moments, late at night, when I would think about Dante—the way he’d looked at me that last night, the way he’d let me believe that leaving was his choice. I’d known him for too long, could read the pain in his eyes, the anger and hurt he was trying to bury. He hadn’t chosen to leave. He’d been forced, stripped of the place he’d always thought would be his.
A part of me wanted to hate him for leaving, to believe he’d abandoned us. But another part of me, the part that had grown up with him, that had fought alongside him, knew the truth. He was as loyal to Talon Pack as I was, but his loyalty had been too intense, too wild, for the pack to accept.
As I rose through the ranks, I made a promise to myself: I would lead differently. I would create a pack that would accept all wolves, that wouldn’t see strength or ambition as threats. I would be the Alpha that Dante could have believed in. And in some way, I was leading not just for Talon Pack, but for him, for the promise we had once shared before everything fell apart.
(Dante’s POV)
Flashback
The tension had been building long before that fateful night. The council of elders and I had clashed too many times, our visions for the pack colliding like stones in a torrent. They saw me as reckless, wild—a wolf who would destabilize everything they had spent years building.
One of the most heated moments came during a pack council meeting. A dispute had arisen over whether to renegotiate a territorial boundary with a neighboring pack. I’d argued that our strength lay in expanding our borders, showing the surrounding packs that Talon Pack was not to be underestimated.
“We’re stronger than we’ve ever been,” I said, my voice firm as I faced the council.
“Why should we settle for appeasing our neighbors when we could take what we need?”
Osric, one of the more traditional elders, shook his head.
“Strength isn’t just about force, Dante. It’s about knowing when to stand down. Expanding our borders risks war we don’t need.”
“That’s fear talking,” I countered, my frustration boiling over.
