Calvin’s POV
The day had started no differently than the countless others of late-heavy with tension and a suffocating sense of dread. I was seated behind my desk, the surface strewn with reports and maps that Franklin and I had been dissecting. The room felt oppressive, the walls closing in with the weight of my Pack’s suffering.
The room was quiet except for the rustling of papers as Franklin explained the latest updates on our attempts to negotiate with the Moon Rock Pack. His voice was steady, but I could sense the exhaustion in his tone. We were both worn thin.
I leaned back in my chair, trying to push away the throbbing headache that had been my constant companion for weeks. “We’ll try again,” I said, my voice heavy. “We don’t have another option. They’re our last hope for supplies before winter.”
Franklin nodded but didn’t seem convinced. “I’ll prepare the next envoy,” he said, though he didn’t meet my eyes.
A sudden, frantic knock on the door broke through the quiet. It wasn’t the polite tap of someone waiting to be acknowledged but a desperate pounding that promised to rip the door off its hinges. Franklin and I froze, exchanging a wary glance.
“What now?” Franklin muttered, already moving to the door. He yanked it open, his irritation evident. “Do you have any idea-”
Before he could finish, a woman pushed past him with such force that Franklin stumbled back.
It took me a moment to recognize her-Sue, the woman who had begged for help just days ago for her sick baby. Her hair was a wild mess, her face pale and streaked with tears. She clutched a small bundle wrapped in a blanket so tightly against her chest that her knuckles were white.
She didn’t walk-she stumbled forward and fell to her knees.
“Alpha!” she screamed, her voice a ragged cry that sent chills down my spine. She crumpled completely, her knees hitting the floor hard as sobs tore through her body.
“Sue?” I said, rising from my chair, unsure of what I was seeing.
Her entire body was shaking violently as she rocked back and forth, holding the bundle closer to her chest. It wasn’t until I stepped closer that I noticed how still the bundle was, how unnatural its stillness seemed.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, alarm growing in my voice. “Sue, what’s happened?”
But she didn’t answer. Instead, another scream tore from her throat-a sound so raw, so filled with despair, that it seemed to reverberate through the walls of the office.
Outside, I could hear crying and shouting-angry, panicked voices blending into a clamor of chaos. My gut twisted.
“Franklin,” I said sharply, not taking my eyes off Sue. “Go see what’s happening.”
Franklin nodded, his face pale as he hurried out the door.
I crouched down in front of Sue, keeping my voice as calm and steady as I could. “Sue,” I said softly, “it’s okay. You’re safe here. Just take a deep breath for me, alright?”
Her sobs didn’t falter. Her grip on the bundle only tightened as if she feared someone might snatch it away from her.
“Sue,” I tried again, my voice gentler this time. “Look at me. Whatever’s happened, we’ll figure it out together. But I need you to breathe, okay? Just focus on my voice.”
She finally hiccupped, her sobs pausing long enough for her to take a shuddering breath. Encouraged, I continued, “That’s good. Just like that. In and out. You’re doing great.”
Her rocking slowed, and for a brief moment, I thought she might finally tell me what was wrong. But when she lifted her head, the raw anguish in her bloodshot eyes nearly stopped my heart.
“Tell me what happened,” I urged gently. “Is your son okay? Has he recovered?”
Her gaze sharpened, and suddenly, all the sorrow was replaced with fury.
“Recovered?” she spat, her voice venomous. Her glare bore into me like a dagger. “How can he recover when he’s dead?!”
The words struck me like a physical blow. I jolted back, my breath caught in my throat.
“No,” I stammered, my mind reeling. “That’s not… How is that even possible?!”
I stared at the bundle in her arms, dread creeping into every corner of my being. My voice dropped to a whisper. “I came to see him yesterday. You were feeding him. You were happy. You said the doctor told you he’d be absolutely fine. So how is he…”
I couldn’t finish. The words wouldn’t form.
Sue’s face crumpled again, and fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. “I don’t know!” she cried, her voice cracking. “He went to sleep, and when I checked on him…” Her breath hitched, and she clutched the bundle tighter. “He wasn’t moving. I screamed for help, but it was too late. They said…” Her voice broke entirely, and she dissolved into sobs once more. “They said he was gone.”
Her cries grew louder, filling the room with unbearable sorrow.
Before I could respond, the door burst open, and Franklin stumbled back inside. His face was ashen, his eyes wide with something I could only describe as pure terror.
He locked the door behind him with trembling hands, his chest heaving as though he’d run a mile.
“What’s going on out there?” I demanded, rising to my feet.
“It’s chaos,” Franklin said, his voice unsteady.
“What do you mean, chaos?” I pressed, a sinking feeling taking root in my chest.
Franklin’s hands gripped the back of a chair as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. “Alpha…” he began, his voice trembling. He swallowed hard. “All the firstborn children…”
He faltered, his gaze darting to Sue before looking back at me.
“All the firstborn children of the Pack are dead.”
The room spun. I staggered back, gripping the edge of my desk for support. “What?!”
“Every single one,” Franklin said, his voice cracking. “Boys. Girls. From newborns to twelve-year-olds. Not one of them is alive.”
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “That’s not possible.”
Franklin’s hands trembled as he ran them through his hair. “It happened all at once,” he said, his voice filled with disbelief. “They fell asleep at the same time. None of them woke up.”
Sue’s wails grew louder, a piercing sound that filled the room and made the air feel heavy.
Franklin’s shoulders began to shake. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” he said, his voice barely audible. “Not in the history of our Pack or anywhere else. This isn’t natural, Alpha.”
He crumbled into a nearby chair, burying his face in his hands. His sobs were muffled, but the sound of his anguish was clear.
Franklin’s quiet sobs soon turned into loud, gut-wrenching cries. He buried his face in his trembling hands, his shoulders shaking violently as the weight of the scene outside bore down on him.
“I can’t-” he stuttered between sobs, his voice broken. “Alpha, it’s too much. All those tiny bodies… They’re just lying there… lifeless. Their parents screaming, holding them, begging them to wake up. It’s-it’s like something out of a nightmare.”
The sight of Franklin, my steadfast Beta, reduced to this state made the reality of the situation hit even harder.
Sue’s wails grew even louder, her cries raw and relentless as she rocked back and forth, clutching the still bundle in her arms as though her love alone might bring the child back to life.
I clenched my jaw, the cacophony of grief clawing at my sanity. The high-pitched keening from Sue, the agonized sobs of Franklin, the distant shouts and cries echoing from outside-they all merged into an unbearable din.
My head throbbed. I pressed my palms against my temples, trying to steady myself, but the noise wouldn’t stop.
It was suffocating.
“Don’t try to tune it out!” Fenrir’s voice rumbled in the back of my mind, venomous and impatient. “You’ve ignored every sign, and now you see the truth! This Pack is doomed.”
“Not now,” I hissed under my breath, though I wasn’t sure if I was speaking to Fenrir or the room full of anguish.
“You’ve failed them, Calvin,” Fenrir sneered. “The Moon Goddess has turned her back on us. She’s letting us fall. You will all perish.”
“No,” I muttered, but the words felt hollow even to me.
The pain in my head grew sharper, and my legs trembled beneath me. My gaze darted from Franklin to Sue, and then to the closed door of my office. Behind it, I knew the rest of the Pack was unraveling, their voices rising in grief and anger.
“Maybe we really are cursed,” I whispered, the words spilling out before I could stop them. My shoulders slumped as an overwhelming sense of despair crept into my bones. “Maybe we’ve been abandoned by the Moon Goddess. We’ve incurred her wrath, and now she’s turned away from us. Is this really how it all ends?”
I didn’t realize I had spoken the words aloud until Franklin looked up, his tear-streaked face frozen in disbelief. “Alpha…” he croaked, his voice tinged with fear.
Sue’s cries didn’t falter, but she rocked even harder, clutching her dead child as though holding onto the last vestiges of hope.
For a moment, I felt it-the cold tendrils of defeat curling around my heart. The image of the Pack flashed before my eyes, everyone I’d sworn to protect, reduced to ashes, their bodies falling one by one as despair consumed them.
My knees buckled, and I leaned against my desk for support. A dark thought slithered into my mind: Maybe this was inevitable. Maybe everyone here was doomed to die. Including me.
The weight of it nearly crushed me.
But then, something shifted.
No.
I straightened, forcing air into my lungs as I shoved the despair down into the deepest recesses of my mind. “No,” I said again, louder this time. “I won’t let it happen. I can’t.”
The oath I had taken when I became Alpha surged back into my mind. The vow to protect my Pack, no matter the cost. It was the very core of who I was.
I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists. “I don’t care what it takes,” I growled under my breath. “I will ensure the survival of this Pack, even if it takes every last drop of my blood.”
Fenrir scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. “Big words, Alpha. But words won’t save them.”
“Then I’ll do more than speak,” I snapped back, my voice filled with renewed determination.
Franklin stared at me, his tears still flowing, but his sobs quieted by the intensity of my tone.
“Sue,” I said, crouching down to meet her tear-filled gaze. “I promise you, I will figure out what’s happening. I don’t know how, but I will. I swear it on the Moon Goddess herself. This… this will not be the end of us.”
Sue didn’t answer. Her cries continued, but her grip on the bundle in her arms loosened ever so slightly.
I turned to Franklin, who was still visibly shaken. “Franklin, pull yourself together,” I ordered, my voice firm but not unkind. “I need you now more than ever. Whatever this is, it’s not natural. Something supernatural is at play here, and we’re going to find out what it is.”
Franklin blinked at me, his face pale but his breathing beginning to steady. “Y-Yes, Alpha,” he said, his voice shaky but resolute.
I stood, my gaze hardening as I looked at the door. The cries outside hadn’t stopped, but I refused to let them break me.
“Whoever or whatever is responsible for this,” I said quietly, more to myself than anyone else, “will regret the day they dared to cross the Obsidian Pack.”