CHAPTER 2

The streets of the city were unusually quiet, the life humming in the distance, as Lena made her way to the building site. The location of the artifact blazed in her mind, like a beacon. What she was going to find, she wasn’t sure, but deep inside, she knew that it called out to her.

The hunters would be on high alert. Danger was sewn into every seam of this city. But to Lena, it all did not matter.

Because for the first time in years, she had a reason to hope.

It loomed against the night sky like a skeleton, its steel beams stretching upward in jagged, unfinished defiance. The construction site felt abandoned—too quiet. No voices, no footsteps, just the faint whistle of wind slipping through empty corridors and metal scaffolding.

Lena crouched behind a stack of wooden crates, her breath steady and senses sharp. She had slipped past the chain-link fence and avoided the security cameras, moving like a shadow through the deserted site. Each step brought her closer to the artifact, the air around her growing heavier, charged with an inexplicable energy.

Her eyes locked onto a faint glow near the center of the site. A small object sat on a crate, pulsing softly like a heartbeat. As she crept closer, the hum grew louder—not a sound exactly, but a vibration in her chest, as though the object were alive.

It was an orb of polished stone, no larger than a grapefruit. Its surface was dark, veined with glowing symbols that seemed to shift and writhe if she stared too long. Ancient runes. Lena didn’t know their meaning, but they felt familiar, like a memory just out of reach.

Her fingers twitched as she reached out. Her instincts screamed at her to stop, to turn back, but something deeper urged her on.

The instant her fingers brushed its surface, the world fell away.

She wasn’t at the construction site anymore.

She stood in a forest—vast and wild—its towering trees dwarfing any skyscraper. Moonlight filtered through the canopy, painting the forest floor in silver. Wolves surrounded her, their shimmering fur like liquid starlight. They made no sound, no movement, but their golden eyes bore into her.

And then she saw him.

An alpha stood at the center of the circle. His presence was commanding, his form massive, his glowing eyes as bright and luminous as the moon itself. He said nothing, but Lena felt his voice resonate in her mind.

We are the beginning. The bloodline. The truth forgotten but never lost.

Images flooded her vision: packs running together under crimson skies, battles fought and won, the rise of something great. And then—the fall. Fire. Silver. Death. A relentless hunt. The wolves scattered, their howls swallowed by silence.

Lena stumbled back, her head spinning. The visions dissolved into chaos, the forest melting into darkness.

Her knees hit the ground as she gasped for air, clutching the orb as if it could tether her to reality. The hum was louder now, vibrating through her entire being. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, and her chest ached with the weight of the truth she had glimpsed.

This wasn’t just an artifact. It was a piece of their past—a key to understanding who they were and what had been stolen from them.

Before she could process further, a sharp sound shattered the stillness.

Footsteps.

Lena’s head snapped up. Shadows moved at the edge of the site, and the faint clink of metal sent a chill down her spine.

“Step away from the artifact,” a voice commanded, cold and unyielding.

Three figures emerged from the shadows. Hunters.

They wore black, their faces obscured by hoods, but the glint of silver weapons in their hands left no doubt about their intent. The leader stepped forward, his gaze locked on Lena.

“That doesn’t belong to you,” he said, his voice as sharp as the blade he carried.

Lena’s grip on the orb tightened, her mind racing. Her body screamed at her to run, but she held her ground.

“You have no idea what this is,” she said, her voice steady despite the fear clawing at her chest.

The hunter smirked. “Oh, we know exactly what it is. And we’re not leaving without it.”

The other two hunters began to fan out, cutting off her escape. The orb in Lena’s hand pulsed, as if it sensed the danger.

“Last chance,” the leader said, raising his weapon. “Hand it over, or we’ll take it from your corpse.”

Lena’s heart thundered, but she bared her teeth in a defiant snarl. She had seen the truth, felt the power of the wolves who came before her. This artifact wasn’t just a relic—it was hope.

“If you want it,” she growled, her voice low and dangerous, “you’ll have to fight me for it.”

The hunters lunged, their silver blades gleaming under the moonlight.

The hunter's leader stepped closer, his boots grinding onto the gravel-strewn ground; his blade flashed under the full moon, and a self-satisfied smile played on his lips. "You can't win this," he said, his voice as level as if he had already decided upon the outcome.

Lena stood her ground, the artifact clutched tightly in her hands. It pulsed against her palm, a steady rhythm that seemed to echo her own heartbeat. She bared her teeth, the sharp edge of a snarl breaking through her words. "I'm not giving it to you."

The hunter cocked his head to one side, his lips curling upward in amusement. "You really think that you can stop us? Alone?"

The defiance glinted in Lena's hazel eyes. She didn't say anything. Words were futile now.

The other hunters fanned out, their silver weapons glinting like moonlit fangs. One of them, wiry and quick, sprang forward, slashing with a silver dagger aimed at Lena's side.

She dodged, her movements quick and fluid, and countered with a sharp swipe of her claws. The hunter barely avoided her, stumbling back with a curse.

The leader chuckled. “Feisty. But we’ve killed stronger wolves than you.”

They attacked together this time, coordinated and precise. Lena ducked under one swing, sidestepped another, her claws and teeth flashing in the moonlight. Her movements were fueled by desperation and the instinct to survive.

But the hunters weren’t ordinary humans. They knew how to fight her kind. Their blades slashed close, their silver-tipped arrows slicing through the air, forcing her to stay on the defensive. Each movement cost her energy, and her breath came in sharp, ragged bursts.