Page 16

Hagan

Highclaw Draken stood near the edge of the longhouse, arms crossed as he watched the two figures sparring in the training grounds below. Hagan and Airlia. Again.

Lunara Astrid stood beside him, silent as she observed the way the boy instinctively protected the girl, how his stance shifted ever so slightly to keep himself between her and any perceived threat. It was not the behaviour of mere childhood friends.

"They are too close," Draken muttered, voicing the concern they had both been feeling. "It should be stopped."

Astrid tilted her head. "They are children."

Draken exhaled sharply. "They won't be for much longer."

Astrid exhaled softly. "Would you rather they be enemies?"

Draken's frown deepened. "I would rather they understand what is expected of them."

The pack had already taken notice. Whispers followed Airlia like a shadow. Some were curious, some dismissive, and others—like the more traditional elders—were wary.

"Her father was human," one tribe member had remarked recently, watching the girl with sharp, assessing eyes. "It happens, but it is uncommon. Wolves do not forget what we are, and we do not always welcome what is different."

Airlia had not reacted. That, more than anything, unsettled them. A child should care what the pack thought, should yearn for acceptance. But Airlia... she simply continued on, unbothered, as though she had long since decided their opinions did not matter .

"She does not behave like a pup seeking approval," Astrid murmured. "That is ...unnatural"

Draken's jaw tightened. That could be dangerous.

The Vargrheim tribe was a unit, every member interacting continuously. Isolation was equivalent to a death sentence to wolves.

There were bigger concerns than the growing bond between Airlia and Hagan. The borders had become restless, the neighbouring pack stirring like an unsettled beast. Skirmishes had started again—small tests of strength, of will. Messages sent through blood and bruises rather than words.

The tribe could not afford distractions.

And so, Draken made his decision.

Hagan entered the longhouse with a furrowed brow, uneasy at the rare summons. His father sat at the long wooden table, firelight casting shadows across his face. Astrid sat nearby, watching silently.

Draken studied Hagan for a long moment before speaking. His son had grown fast, tall, and strong—his frame filling out with the promise of a warrior. He was no longer a child, yet at that moment, Draken knew what he was about to say would shake him like one.

"There is something you must know."

Hagan frowned. "What is it, dad?"

Draken leaned forward, resting his forearms on the heavy wooden table. "About three years ago, I travelled to the eastern province. It was my third trip to the area. The oracle had sent me on a quest. I met with a young girl. "

Hagan felt his shoulders stiffen with tension. "What was the quest?"

Draken exhaled. "I had been searching for the Moon-Eyed female."

Hagan's frown deepened. The words were familiar. He knew the prophecy—every pup in the tribe had heard it whispered, spoken of in stories meant to shape their future. It always seemed like a story to him. Blood mates and such.

The Moon-Eyed one. The mate of the Alpha's heir. The girl who would stand beside him and secure the strength of the pack.

Draken's eyes flickered with something unreadable. "I found her."

Hagan's breath caught in his throat.

"After much searching," Draken continued, "she was found in the eastern province. She was just a child then. As part of the agreement, five of our wolves stayed behind, ensuring our bond with her people. And now, she is to come here. This year."

The words rang in Hagan's ears, each syllable hitting like a blow.

His jaw clenched. "You kept this from me."

Draken's expression didn't shift. "It was not the right time."

Hagan pushed to his feet, his chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor. His hands were fists at his sides. "I knew about the prophecy. I've spent my whole life being told it would happen one day. But you—" He sucked in a breath, furious. "You didn't think I should know when you found her?"

Draken's gaze remained steady. "Would it have changed anything? "

"Yes!" Hagan snapped. "It's my life! I should have known!"

Draken let out a slow breath as if preparing himself. "You were still young. We just wanted you to be unburdened as long as possible. But things have changed now."

Hagan's brows furrowed, but he didn't have to think long to understand what his father meant.

Airlia.

His fury flared hotter. "This is about Lia," he said, his voice shaking with anger.

"This is about duty," Draken corrected. "Your place in the tribe. In the world."

Hagan's heart pounded as he stared at his father, trying to make sense of the storm inside him.

The prophecy. The Moon-Eyed one.

His fated.

A girl he had never even met.

His mind whirled, and before he could stop himself, he said, "Lia has grey eyes."

Draken's expression didn't change. "She is not the one the prophecy speaks of."

Hagan's breath came faster. "Then why her? Why this girl I know nothing about?"

Draken's voice remained calm, immovable. "I have met her. She IS the one." He paused, letting the words settle. "There is no doubt in my mind."

The words burst from him before he could think.

"I don't care who she is. "

The silence that followed was heavy, stretching between them like a chasm.

Draken's expression darkened. "You should."

"Your relationship with Airlia," Draken continued, his voice lowering. "It is too close."

Silence fell between them.

Hagan stared at his father, barely able to process what he was hearing.

"You must maintain boundaries," Draken said, his expression unreadable. "She is practically human. You are not. The pack is watching, and you cannot—"

"Cannot what?" Hagan cut him off, his voice sharp with defiance. "Care about her?"

Draken did not answer.

That silence told Hagan everything.

His chest tightened, anger and hurt battling inside him. "This is ridiculous," he spat. Hagan shook his head, stepping back, his breath ragged. He couldn't listen to this. Couldn't accept it.

His father had sealed his fate. Had given his future away before he'd even had a chance to claim it for himself.

And worse—he expected Hagan to fall in line. To let go of the one person who had come to matter the most.

"I won't do this," Hagan said hoarsely, turning sharply.

Draken's voice followed him as he strode toward the door. "You will do what is best for the tribe."

Hagan didn't stop. Didn't look back.

If his father had spoken any more words, he didn't hear them .

Because in that moment, the only thing he knew for certain was that his future had just been stolen from him.

And he wasn't sure he could forgive it.

Astrid watched him disappear; her face unreadable. After a long moment, she turned back to Draken.

"Give him time," she said quietly. "He has had a shock."

Draken exhaled slowly, staring at the flickering flames in the fire pit.

Time...

He wasn't sure time would make this any easier.

It would only make the coming storm harder to face.