Arranged To The Beast Alpha
Silver crystals

DAMIEN

I headed back to my private library, my thoughts swirling with questions I had no answers to. Leah's Foretelling power had shattered every belief I held about what was possible. I wasn't one to put stock in wild notions, but what I had seen couldn't be explained away.

As I walked to the familiar rows of shelves,I grabbed the book I had scoffed at just days before, mocking its contents with all the derision I could muster Legends of the Lycan. The title was stamped in wooden hard cover, new from restock and proper handling.

When I first read it, I thought it was nothing more than a collection of fanciful tales spun by humans who'd heard only fragments of our truths. Pages filled with myths about werewolves possessing powers that defied all logic, all reality. Foreseeing events, manipulating memories, even tampering with time itself.

But what had happened with Leah made me question everything I thought I knew.

I pulled the book off the shelf, my fingers lingering on its cover. Somewhere in these pages might be a clue-an explanation for what I had witnessed.

As I thumbed through it, my mind kept returning to the moment I had seen Leah in. I could still see her eyes, clouded with a strange fear like she was somewhere else entirely. And the things she drew... how her hands drew on their own while she screamed for it to stop. It was like she had crossed a boundary between reality and something else something.

But that was the least of my shock, the pendant, the hand of the woman I had met that night, handing me the pendant with her very last breath.

FLASHBACK (Ten years ago)

After the argument with my father, I found my way to the mountains that surrounded the pack, searching for some kind of peace. I needed it so badly, but tonight it seemed to evade me, slipping away when I was desperate for it. My chest still throbbed with the echoes of our words, the weight of them made me angry, vicious and full of hate for the bastard I called my father.

However,his view was something. The whole pack, spread out below, every building and winding street bathed in the soft glow of the moon. It was... calming.

Not enough to erase the anger, but enough to dull its edge. This mountain was my refuge, a place older than any werewolf pack, older than our stories. Standing here always felt sacred, like maybe even the gods came up here to hide from their problems. Silly thought, maybe, but it had always been my theory.

The night was quiet, the kind of quiet that wraps itself around you, deep and endless. The moon hung low, silver and steady, casting a cool light over the trees and rocks, shadows dancing in the places it didn't touch. I let myself get lost in it, let the world slip away while I listened to the wind whisper through the trees.

Then, suddenly, I heard it. A sniff, low and soft, followed by a pained groan. My senses kicked into overdrive, every distraction falling away in an instant. I tensed, ears straining to pick up the sound again.

I slid off the rock I had been sitting on, every movement slow and calculated as I headed toward the sound, ready for whatever-or whoever I might replace. My fists curled, my stance shifting automatically, muscles coiled and prepared to strike if it came to that.

"Who's there?" I called out, taking another step forward. My voice came out steady, controlled, the way I'd been trained. But in the back of my mind, a small part of me was still hoping it was nothing-a wild animal, maybe, or a branch creaking in the wind.

Then, I heard it a small, barely-there whisper. "H-Help me-me."

The voice was so weak, almost swallowed by the wind, but unmistakably the voice of a woman. I pushed forward, my strides longer now, and soon enough, I found her.

She was lying behind a thicket of shrubs, half-hidden by leaves and shadows. Blood soaked the ground around her, dark and thick, and I felt my heart jolt. A dagger was buried deep in her abdomen, the metal catching the moonlight in a way that made my stomach turn. Dropping to my knees, I reached out, instinctively trying to staunch the bleeding, to help somehow.

My hand brushed the dagger, and immediately I recognized the burn marks around the wound. Silver. This wasn't just any attack-this was targeted, deliberate. Whoever did this wanted her to die, and quickly.

"Hold on,” I said, squeezing her hand gently. "I've got my car nearby. We'll get to the hospital. You'll be fine."

She shook her head, her dark eyes glazed with pain, a faint, bitter smile flickering on her lips. She knew. She could feel it, the way her life was slipping away.

"You... can't save me," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Her breathing was shallow, labored. "Take this." She lifted her hand slowly, offering me something small, metallic-a pendant. For a second, I didn't know what to think, but I took it from her, the cool weight of it unfamiliar in my palm.

"Find them," she rasped, her grip tightening around my hand with surprising strength. Her eyes bore into mine, pleading, desperate.

"Find who?" I asked, leaning in closer, trying to keep her focus. Her breathing grew ragged, each breath a struggle, her body tensing as she fought to stay with me. "Ma'am, please, tell me who you mean. Stay with me." I was practically begging, my voice harsher, more frantic than I wanted it to be.

She managed a single word, barely a whisper, and yet it felt like it echoed through the night, rattling down into my bones. "C... Crystals."

Then her hand went limp, falling away from mine, her eyes fixed on something distant, something far beyond this world. And just like that, she was gone.

I just knelt there, stunned, the silence pressing in around me again, thicker and colder than before. I looked down at the pendant in my hand-a small, golden piece, intricately carved, catching the moonlight in a way that felt almost unnatural. Why had she given it to me?

FLASHBACK ENDS

Leah drew the exact moment the woman had given me the pendant. Dies she has a connection with.

I need to dig further into the pendant's history and origination.