"Life has a way of slipping its shadows into the brightest moments, reminding us that even in our greatest triumphs, the weight of loss and struggle is never far behind."
And mine was no different. Being a direct descendant of the moon, I am Leo Caelan Silverthrone, prince of the Lycans. We were once worshipped for our strength and divinity and were regarded as gods. But even gods, in their glory, are not exempted from war, loss, and struggle. The Lycans were no different. Envy and greed festered among our kind, driven by the desire to be superior—to rule above all. This thirst for power sparked a war, and despite my young age of four, I too stood in the midst of it, my royal blood marking me as a target. I fought, determined to prove my strength even as a child, but ultimately; I was defeated
In the past, this belief was honoured and revered. But as time passed, pride, prejudice, and the desire for power tainted the hearts of many. Some Lycans began to dismiss the concept, viewing it as outdated. They sought superiority by seeing others as lesser, believing only pure Lycan blood mattered. Among our kind, the belief in fated mates—a sacred bond that transcends mere physical connection—was revered for centuries. My family held fast to the old ways, knowing that a true mate, regardless of their origin, was a gift from the moon itself. True mates were said to complete each other, creating a union of souls and bodies. But as time passed, pride and prejudice took root. Some of my people began to dismiss this sacred belief, deeming it outdated. They sought superiority through pure bloodlines, ignoring the deeper, ancient truths. My mother, an elemental, was one victim of their disdain. Despite being my father's true mate, her bloodline was seen as a weakness to the royal family. But they were wrong. They were blind to the fact that true mates were an incomparable force, their bond unbreakable, and they strengthened each other in ways that others could never fully appreciate.
After the war ended, we had prevailed, but I was lost and alone in the dark, terrifying woods. A barrier loomed before me, an invisible wall keeping me from my homeland. The bitter sting of betrayal gnawed at my mind. My cousin, of all people had turned against me. In the chaos of battle, he had knocked me unconscious and thrown me into the heart of the forbidden forest. To ensure I never returned, he cast a powerful barrier around me—a magical prison meant to drain me of strength until I succumbed to death.
When I woke, the world around me was a blur. My body felt heavy, and my mind was clouded with exhaustion. Staggering to my feet, I felt a gut-wrenching realization: this was no simple trap. It was a death sentence. They knew I wouldn't go down easily, not even as a young Lycan. The barrier was designed to slowly weaken me, ensuring I would die long before it finally wore off. But as I inhaled, I recognized the faint scent of magic in the air. My mind was made up—I would learn it. Magic, once foreign to me, would become my weapon.
My father had always said Lycans were creatures of vast potential, not bound by one path. "Never limit yourself," he'd said, "but don't be greedy. Choose your path wisely." We were not mere beasts—we were worshipped as gods once. Though we were difficult to destroy, we were not immortal. I clung to his words, knowing I could survive this if I could just figure out how.
The forbidden forest was dangerous, filled with ancient beings and wild magic. Yet I pressed on. The barrier tugged at my strength, draining me bit by bit, but I ignored the hunger gnawing at me. I had greater concerns. I needed to learn how to fight back and how to break free. As I ventured deeper into the woods, I could feel the life around me—the trees, creatures, and shifting shadows—all watching, waiting for me to falter. But I was no mere prey. I was a Lycan, and we do not die easily.
The forest, treacherous as it was, also held power. I could feel it calling to me—a force, old and formidable. Perhaps it was the very essence for which the forest was named. I would find it, and I would make it mine. This was no longer about survival; it was about unlocking the potential my father had always spoken of.
As I ran from the creatures stalking me, I stumbled upon a cave shrouded in a dark aura. Without thinking, I sprinted inside the barrier's grip, loosening. The creatures remained outside, wary of the cave's dark magic. I collapsed, exhausted but feeling safer than I had in days. When I awoke, a strange creature stood before me. Its body seemed translucent, as if I could see through it, yet I couldn't discern its form completely. Still, its presence was oddly comforting. It dropped a dead rabbit at my feet.
"Eat," it seemed to say, though it spoke no words. I looked up, but its face remained obscured.
"Who are you?" I asked, my voice hoarse.
It answered, echoing in my thoughts, "The master of this forest."
"How do you do that?" I asked, fascinated.
A sound like laughter filled the cave, though the creature's form only shimmered. "Telepathy, dear," it signed. "It's been ages since I spoke to anyone. A Lycan wandering here is rare."
"Why is that?" I pressed.
"They are prideful, powerful creatures. They fear little, and few dare to face them. I couldn't tell what you were until you entered my barrier."
"So that's what this was?" I muttered.
The creature laughed again. "Yes, all magic is nullified here, but even this barrier struggles to contain a Lycan."
Then it turned to me, studying me closely. "I can train you—to an extent. Don't misunderstand—you are far stronger than me. But I can help if you promise to take me with you when you leave."
Desperation flickered in my chest. Of course, I would agree. "I promise," I said. "As long as you follow me."
Without warning, I felt a sharp pain in my hand, like teeth sinking into my flesh. I cried out as a bond formed between us, the pain unlike anything I had ever known. It felt as though my soul was being torn apart, and then something else—a presence—settled inside me. I gasped, struggling to speak.
"What are you?" I managed.
"The shadow," my own voice called out to me. Before I could respond, the world went dark again.
It's been three years since that fateful encounter with Nyx, as I now call him. He's kept his word, guiding me through gruelling training. Over time, I discovered that Nyx commands many shadows, and while I too can control them, I choose not to. They are his people, and he understands them far better than I ever could.
During my training, I learned to command the creatures of the forest. Now, they avoid my path out of respect—or fear. I also met Danise, a human familiar in need of help. After tending to his injuries, I kept Nyx a secret. Denise asked if he could stay with me for a while, and I gladly welcomed his company.
One day, as we hunted together, I sensed a strange magic in the air. Before I could react, darkness swallowed me. When I regained consciousness, I was in a damp, unfamiliar place. The sun was nowhere to be seen. My senses adjusted to the shadows, and I heard a familiar voice.
"I brought you a familiar," Danise said. "He's strong. And human."
Confused, I whispered to Nyx, "What's happening?"
"Danise knocked you out and brought you to a witch's territory," Nyx replied calmly.
"Why is he calling me human?" I asked, wary.
"I concealed your true nature when he attacked. You never told him you're a Lycan."
True. I hadn't seen the need. Having concealed that aspect of myself, I felt an odd sense of relief. I would play along.
"Where am I? What is this place?" I asked, feigning fear.
The witch laughed, her voice sending shivers down my spine. "Good," she muttered, waving her hand. "I can tame him."
I felt a pull as if caught in a web of energy.
"What's happening?" I whispered to Nyx, my voice trembling.
"Stay calm. She can't control you. Just pretend to obey for now."
I nodded, though the growing darkness in my heart made me doubt how long I nodded, not sure how long I could sustain my pretense even as the darkness in my heart grew deeper.
After the witch finished her spell, she inhaled deeply and her eyes glowed with curiosity and doubt. "Come here," she commanded, her voice sharp.
I stood up, doing my best to act as though I were under her control, and approached her. The tension between us was palpable as she observed me intently, her suspicions lingering. "Tell me your name, boy," she demanded, her tone edged with authority.
"Leo," I replied in a monotone, suppressing the burning urge to defy her.
She nodded, her expression shifting to one of satisfaction. "Good. Now follow me. We have a stage waiting for us," she said, striding confidently ahead. I followed, heart pounding, but outwardly calm.
As we stepped out, the roar of cheers hit me like a tsunami. The crowd surged with excitement, the atmosphere crackling with energy. I felt an odd pull toward the stage's center—a magnetic force stronger than anything I'd ever experienced. It tugged at me, drawing me in and leading me toward my other half.
And then I saw her—a little girl in the center stage with a magical circle around her, her eyes clouded with despair. She was exhausted; it was shown clearly on her face like she was about to give up. Something in me shifted. I smiled and tried to comfort her as best I could, knowing that I could not keep her safe just yet.
But when she collapsed and was dragged away, panic surged within me. I sent Nyx after her, ensuring her safety.
I didn't know her, but one truth burned inside me: she was mine. My second half. My fated mate.