Chapter one: In The Shadows

**WHITE**

The war within raged On, the battle between my last strand of humanity and succumbing to the cold hands of my beast. Torned between logic and instinct,  fear began to slowly dominate my thoughts and mind. My muscles become tense and veins bulge out as I try to keep the beast at bay, my claws, sharp and longer than any normal wolf, begin to claw on my prison ground. I knew I had lost the battle to my beast again, Canines sharp and fully elongated. Just like always, He won and I lost.

My beast and I are of one body but different souls, every werewolf had a wolf as it should be, but I, White Knight, is cursed with a beast, My family arrived at a decision to lock me down here, the far corner of the Castle, down where no-one  could see me. I was clearly an abomination to the werewolves and an embarrassment to my family. 

I was born with this curse. My parents, The royal family of the entire werewolf kingdom , had 5 sons. The curse evaded the first son, crown Prince Kael, evaded the second Prince  Gabriel  , the third,Thane and fourth, Prince Ryker. But, it decided to take refuge inside me. My parents King Theodore and Martha Knight did all they could to tame or permanently get rid of the beast but the plan failed miserably  every single time.

I missed lots of festivities, New years and Christmas, my entire childhood was spent in the cold hard walls of my dungeon. Yet, I still couldn't manage to control the  beast.

I have never known the luxury of a normal childhood. While my  brothers learned to hunt in the woods and explored the vast expanse of the Moonlight  Kingdom, I   remained hidden within the castle walls, locked away like a shameful secret. The reason? The beast.

It was always there, lurking just beneath the surface, a presence so powerful and feral that it gnawed at me  every waking moment. My beast was not like the wolves of my  brothers or the guards of the kingdom. It was something darker, wilder—a shadow of chaos that could never be fully tamed. Even when I  was a child, it reared its monstrous head in ways that terrified even the bravest of warriors.

It was not just the size of the beast that was terrifying , though I've heard the whispers of how massive and grotesque it was compared to the sleek wolves of my kin. It was the sheer violence that came with it. When the beast emerged, it did so with a hunger that knew no bounds, a bloodlust that couldn't be sated. There were times when I barely remembered the moments after it took control. Flashes of red, of screaming, of teeth tearing through flesh—these were the memories I carried, a sin I bore.

I was five when the beast first emerged fully. A simple tantrum turned into a storm of uncontrollable rage. I remembered feeling the swell of power inside of me , an untameable force that threatened to tear me apart. My body had shifted before I could understand what was happening. The claws sprouted from my very fingertips,  jaws snapped and elongated, and then—darkness. When I  awoke, the room was in ruins, furniture splintered, and blood spattered across the walls. My  mother, Queen Martha, had stood in the doorway, pale and trembling, her usually calm face marred with fear.

From that day forward, I was a prisoner. Chains became a constant presence in my  life. Iron, silver-lined shackles that bound not just my  wrists, but my  very spirit. The weight of them pressed and burned my  skin every second, a reminder that I could never be trusted with freedom. They said the chains were necessary to protect and keep me safe, but I  knew the truth—they were there to protect others from my beast. My  father, King Theodore, had spared no expense in ensuring that the beast could never fully escape again. Rune-carved locks, enchanted barriers, and guards who specialized in restraint. It was a fortress within a fortress, built around the fear of what lurked inside me.

The beast was more than just a part of me ; it was a separate entity, a violent twin that I shared my  soul with. When it stirred, it wasn't with reason or understanding—it was pure instinct. Raw and ferocious, it sought destruction and dominance. The smallest thing could set it off—a flicker of anger, a heartbeat too close, or the scent of prey. I had learned to suppress it, to bury the beast beneath layers of restraint, but it was always there, whispering to me  in the quiet moments. 

"let me in.....brother." In a cold venomous tone.

The worst part wasn't the loss of control; it was the isolation. The beast made me different, dangerous. My brothers, while close in age, had been raised with the understanding that I was never to be treated like them. I  was an outcast in my family, not because of anything I'd done, but because of what he could do. I wasn't allowed to spar with them or hunt, because the beast could wake at any moment. A childhood full of laughter and shared adventures was denied of me. Instead, I spent  my entire days in the castle's dungeons, learning to breathe through the rage, learning to pretend the beast wasn't a part of me.

And so, I grew up alone, with only the howling of my  own soul for company. The chains that held me were more than physical. They were the guilt that weighed heavy and gnawed at my heart, the shame of knowing that I was a threat to everyone I loved. I could never forget the look in my mother's eyes when she watched me  from a distance, the way my brothers avoided standing too close, as if proximity alone might awaken the monster within.

It wasn't that I didn't try. I fought for control, battling my  instincts every day, hoping to one day be like my brothers. But the beast was insidious, always waiting for a moment of weakness. Even in my sleep, it haunted me, twisting my dreams into nightmares of carnage and destruction. The harder I fought, the stronger it seemed to become, as if feeding on my desperation.

My father had once told me that the beast was a curse, a punishment for sins long forgotten. I didn't believe that. The beast wasn't a curse. It was me,  It was my power, my nature—just as much a part of  my  own blood. But where other wolves could find balance, I found only chaos. There was no middle ground. When the beast rose, there was only savagery.

I  hated it. I  hated the chains, the dungeons, and the fear written  in the eyes of those around me. But more than that, I  hated the way the beast made me feel—like a stranger in my  own skin, like a weapon instead of a person. I have  never known what it was like to live without that constant threat of violence. Even as a boy, before I understood what he was, the beast had been with me , festering in the dark corners of my mind. Making me unnecessarily angry and enraged.

There were moments, brief and fleeting, where I  could feel the beast stir even in my quietest thoughts. The primal urge to dominate, to destroy, was ever-present. It was this wildness that set me  apart, that made it impossible for me  to have what others took for granted. A normal childhood, filled with games and friendships, had never been my experience. Instead, I  grew up lonely  in the shadows, my every move watched, my every emotion scrutinized for signs of the monster beneath.

My brothers of course,  had their wolves. They were regal, majestic creatures that served as extensions of their strength and nobility. But my beast was a creature of nightmares, born from a darkness that even I couldn't comprehend. The worst part was, I  didn't know if I  wanted to kill it or become it. There was a part of me that longed for the freedom the beast offered—the power to break free of the chains, to stop hiding, to unleash everything within me.

But I knew, deep down, that if I  ever truly let the beast out, there would be no coming back.

Amidst all my sufferings and pain I had one saving Grace, one light that will shine through my darkest days, one anchor which I will seek and hold onto. I wasn't totally hopeless, an answer was out there, maybe outside the kingdom and in the wild. Does little to change the fact that I had a mate-----everyone Does, I'm certain she'll understand my dark side and love me regardless. My  father did all he could to help me control the beast, but nothing worked. My mother was never in the picture, she was the first to see my monstrous side and ever since then she avoided me like a plague. I 

 Pffft!  

Every 5 days, I was sedated and injected with a serum that would help me keep the beast asleep, those were the  days when my monster would go silent and let me think freely, days like that i would spend them fantasizing on how I was going to live my life free from this hell, free from this cold dungeon, free from these shackles that ate my skin right from when I five. But then something  happened 10 years ago, Either it was the wrong serum or it wasn't the adequate dose, all I remember is I went down after the dosage.

In no time, I charged up at an uncontrollable  speed,  I had no idea what was going on or why I felt so much anger and power. But I knew I unshackled the chains and burst through the doors in my beast form. Like every other time, I would Be unconscious when he took over. I was fully awake although I wasn't in control, it was as though I was watching myself move through those iron bars. The broken parts pierced through he's skin but he wasn't slowing down any time soon.

He threw  all the guards away and and broke all defences that held him down then. He surveyed his way to the grand floor where my parents were celebrating their wedding anniversary which was also my birthday. It was a very big ballroom he didn't directly crash into the floor but he maneuvered his way to the railings in the floor roof, it was dark so they couldn't make up the figure that was silently watching them as drool slowly dropped from it's mouths.

The guards entered alarmed and informedmy father of the  situation, the beast was staring at someone, he's gaze fixed on someone, I had no idea who but before I could clear my vision and take closer look, He fell and landed on the floor, evidently father's men hit him with another serum while he was distracted with whoever he was looking at in the ballroom.

The next day the dungeon was reinforced with steel and silver, impenetrable as he called on the Castle trusted Sorceress and warlocks to enchant my cell. He told his pack that an unknown creature tried to camouflage itself and was sent by his enemies that they were now safe as the creature has been killed. Just like that, the matter never came up and my family succeeded in hiding my true identity and I was the 5th forbidden son of King Theodore, I was forgotten by every one as I rot in my cell.

The old chains and iron were not as strong as the new ones but I knew deep down something greatly agitated my beast side to rebel that way. Till this day I have no idea what the reason is. But one day, I'll find out. Nothing stays hidden forever, Not even my identity .