Prologue
(Ten-Years -Old Derick's POV)
"How's the food, sweetheart?" Mother asked, sitting beside me.
"Great." I responded, flashing her one of my usual smiles before turning my gaze to Father, who was seated across from me.
"So, tomorrow, you start training me, right, Father?" I asked eagerly.
"Yes, Son. Tomorrow, you will begin training with a real blade…"
A faint noise, like hurried footsteps, echoed from the hallway.
My father's smile faltered, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Do you hear that?" he muttered, glancing toward the door.
Mother tensed beside me, setting down her glass of wine. "The guards should be at their posts…"
Before she could finish, the dining room doors burst open.
Father's best friend, our Beta, stormed in with a group of unfamiliar men. My father furrowed his brows as he studied them.
"What is going on here? Who are these men?" Father asked, his voice firm and commanding.
Beta Steven chuckled darkly, taking slow, deliberate steps toward us. "They are rogues," he announced. "But soon, they will be my men… after I become Alpha."
My father abruptly stood, the legs of his chair scraping against the tiled floor. "What nonsense are you saying, Steven…" His words cut off, replaced by a harsh, choking sound.
His eyes widened in shock as blood spilled from his lips.
I gasped, instinctively trying to run to him, but the rogues grabbed me, their grips tight as they pinned my arms to my sides.
"Don't bother struggling, boy," Steven said smugly. "I paid the cook handsomely to poison you all. Your father's food… and your mother's… were laced with a powerful dose of wolfsbane."
I turned to my mother in horror, just in time to see her collapse onto the floor, blood dribbling from her lips.
Tears blurred my vision as I watched Father stagger, his body trembling violently as he fought to shift into his wolf. But the poison was too strong. He dropped to his knees, gasping for breath.
Steven crouched beside him, his smirk widening. "Dear friend," he taunted, "I'm sorry… but this is the end of the road for you."
Before I could scream, before I could beg, before I could barely have time to process his words, he swung his blade.
Father's head fell from his shoulders, rolling across the floor as blood splattered everywhere.
"No!" I screamed, thrashing against the rogues restraining me, but I was just a child, weak and helpless.
And then Steven turned to my mother.
I turned to her as well, my heart pounding in my chest. She lay trembling, her body wracked with the poison, life slowly slipping away from her.
Steven crouched beside her, grabbing her chin roughly.
"You've always been so beautiful," he murmured, stroking her pale cheek as she weakly tried to turn away. "I have always craved to have my cock buried inside you."
His eyes flickered up to me, a wicked smirk curling on his lips. "You should watch this, boy. This is what happens to the weak."
My mother's tear-filled gaze met mine. I saw the plea in her eyes, the silent cry for me to look away, to not witness the nightmare that was about to unfold.
But I couldn't move.
I couldn't close my eyes.
And as Steven forced himself on her, right there on the cold floor, I screamed. I screamed until my throat was raw, until my voice gave out, until the world around me blurred into nothing but agony.
When it was over, when her broken sobs had faded into silence, Steven rose to his feet.
He grabbed his bloodied blade once more and smiled down at her trembling form.
"Goodbye, my dear Luna."
And with one swift stroke, he took her head too.
"No!" I screamed, my voice filled with pain and desperation as I struggled against the men holding me.
Tears burned down my cheeks, my body trembling with rage and pain. My world had just crumbled before me. My parents, my strong, loving parents, were gone, slaughtered like they were nothing.
"What do we do with the boy?" one of the rogues gripping my arms asked.
Beta Steven smirked, wiping his bloodied hands on his tunic. "I've already sold him," he said casually. "The buyer is waiting outside."
Sold?
The words barely registered before the rogues yanked me forward, dragging me through the halls. My small feet stumbled, but they didn't care.
As we stepped out into the night, I realized the pack house guards were no longer at their posts. Rogues stood in their place, their eyes gleaming with triumph.
They had taken everything.
At the gates, a tall man in a long black coat stood waiting. His face was shadowed under the dim moonlight, but I could feel the coldness radiating from him. Without a word, he pulled open the trunk of a sleek black car.
"No—let me go!" I thrashed desperately, but it was useless.
The rogues shoved me inside the trunk like I was nothing more than cargo. The heavy lid slammed shut, sealing me in darkness.
The car roared to life. I felt every bump and turn as it sped away, taking me further and further from the home I once knew.
But then—
A sudden jolt.
Tires screeched.
The car jerked violently to a stop, and muffled shouting erupted from outside.
Something was happening.
I held my breath, my heart hammering in my chest. Then—gunfire.
Voices screamed. Metal clashed. I could hear the unmistakable sounds of a battle.
And then—silence.
The trunk suddenly burst open, and I flinched at the bright headlights flooding my vision. My blurry gaze slowly adjusted, and I saw them.
Three cars, blocking the road.
And in front of them stood warriors.
One of them stepped forward, his face becoming clearer.
It was Alpha Magnus. My mother's half-brother. I had only seen him once before, two years ago, when he came to visit.
"You're safe now, boy," he said, pulling me from the trunk.
But he was wrong.
I would never be safe again.
Because the boy who once sat at the dinner table, eager for training, no longer existed.
He had died with his parents.
I was something else now.
Something broken.
Something waiting for the day I could make them pay.