At the Groovesway Pack house, the main hall was brimming with excitement.
The pack was hosting a grand celebration for their heir, Hannah, who had passed her college entrance exams and was preparing to attend the most prestigious institution in the country, Gortgic University.
In the private family quarters upstairs, Hannah sat beside her father, Alpha Widweek, while her mother, Luna Gracio, occupied the seat to his right.
Downstairs, the hall erupted with music, laughter, and heavy festivities.
Hannah leaned toward her father.
“Father, you need to come downstairs and say a few words to the pack.” Alpha Widweek, clearly in no mood for forced pleasantries, waved a dismissive hand.
“They don’t need my presence to enjoy themselves.
Go on downstairs and join them; today is your day.” Luna Gracio adjusted her posture, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully.
“Speaking of the university…
I heard that useless girl attends classes there as well.
You must make sure you don’t cross paths with her, Hannah.
She is remarkably stubborn, lives among the humans, and might even conspire with them against you.” Hannah scoffed, crossing her arms.
“What could a shiftless girl possibly do to me anyway?
Those humans are weak.
Besides, Shadron will be there to protect me.” Shadron, her boyfriend and the Gamma’s son, was regarded as the strongest young male in the entire pack—a warrior adored by everyone.
Before the Alpha could respond, the booming music below suddenly cut off.
An eerie, heavy silence blanketed the house.
The family exchanged uneasy glances, wondering what could have killed the party so abruptly.
A moment later, Widweek’s head Gamma, Chadweek—who was also Shadron’s father—hurried into the room, looking thoroughly baffled and pale.
“Alpha,” Chadweek blurted out, “King Dronti is here.” Alpha Widweek snapped to his feet, his jaw tightening.
“What?
What is he doing here?
Is he looking to cause trouble for our pack again?” Chadweek swallowed nervously.
“He didn’t come alone, Alpha.
He brought that shiftless girl, Breena, with him.
He is demanding your immediate presence downstairs.” The Alpha’s body went rigid with tension, and Luna Gracio’s face paled.
Hannah remained still, though a flash of sharp irritation crossed her eyes; she despised the fact that Breena was back, especially accompanied by the Lycan King himself.
Not wanting to provoke the notoriously short-tempered King—a ruler who wouldn’t hesitate to burn the estate to the ground if kept waiting—Widweek, Gracio, and Hannah hurried downstairs.
Dronti sat at a table near the main entrance at the far end of the hall.
Breena sat directly opposite him, staring blankly ahead, while Dronti’s Beta, Neil, stood guard at his shoulder like a silent monolith.
The moment Dronti caught sight of the aging Alpha approaching, he stood up, his massive frame easily dominating the space.
He stroled forward, stopping right in front of Widweek, who instinctively flinched back a step.
“Widweek,” Dronti greeted, his deep voice smooth yet laced with underlying authority.
“It has been far too long.
You look well.
It seems the burden of playing Alpha suits you.” Alpha Widweek forced a deferential smile, lowering his gaze slightly.
“Greetings, Your Highness.
You flatter me.
To what do we owe the honor of your visit?” Dronti’s sharp eyes caught the glare Hannah was casting toward Breena.
The young heiress made no effort to conceal her disgust, her features twisted in open disdain.
Noticing the King’s watchful gaze, Widweek nudged his daughter’s arm, warning her with a stern glance to mask her attitude.
Quickly catching herself, Hannah plastered a sweet, artificial smile onto her face as she looked up at the striking ruler standing before them.
“Greetings, Your Highness.” Dronti ignored her greeting entirely.
He raised a single finger, pointing toward Breena, who was slumped in her chair, looking utterly detached.
“Do you know her?” Dronti asked bluntly.
Alpha Widweek offered a tense, nervous laugh.
“Well…
she used to be a member of our pack, Your Highness, until she decided to leave one day.” Hannah stepped forward, eager to interject.
“Your Highness, she is actually—” “I did not give you permission to speak,” Dronti cut in coldly, his icy tone dropping the temperature in the room.
Hannah snapped her mouth shut, her face burning with embarrassment.
Nearby pack members quickly averted their eyes, careful not to draw the King’s unpredictable wrath; Dronti was notorious for taking pleasure in terrifying lesser wolves.
Hannah’s chest heaved with suppressed rage.
She had wanted to humiliate Breena in front of the King and portray her as a pathetic outcast.
Being publicly silenced hurt her pride deeply.
Worse, she worried that the shiftless girl had begged the King to negotiate her return to the pack—something Hannah vowed never to allow.
She would not tolerate having the girl who had once held her boyfriend’s heart anywhere near her home.
Meanwhile, Breena remained trapped in her own thoughts, staring numbly at the tabletop.
She had never wanted to set foot in this pack house again.
This land had once belonged to her late parents.
After their tragic deaths, her father’s head Beta—Widweek—had assumed control.
By birthright, Breena possessed pure Alpha blood and should have inherited her father’s throne upon reaching adulthood.
However, her inability to shift had robbed her of her legacy; no pack would ever submit to a shiftless ruler.
Following her parents’ deaths, no one had cared for her.
Alpha Widweek, who had sworn to her dying father that he would protect her, turned heartless the moment he claimed the throne.
Luna Gracio had treated her with open malice, despising her existence.
When Breena failed to shift on her eighteenth birthday, the pack turned on her completely.
She was publicly mocked, humiliated, and abandoned.
Even Shadron, her boyfriend at the time, had cold-heartedly discarded her, breaking off their relationship to pursue Hannah instead.
She had lived as an unwanted stranger in her own birthright, betrayed by the Alpha sworn to guard her, heartbroken by the male she loved, and rejected by the people she should have led.
She refused to dwell on the agonizing day she was finally driven out.
Fleeing her kind, she had sought refuge in the human world, eventually meeting Jojo—her fiercely loyal best friend at the university.
Among humans, Breena didn’t feel like an alien or a broken monster.
She was treated simply as a human, finding a strange comfort in their fragile, simple lives.
A deep, commanding voice pulled her back from her painful memories.
“Did she leave on her own?” Dronti questioned Alpha Widweek, his voice cutting through the silent hall.
Widweek swallowed hard, his neck flushing red as he shifted uncomfortably under the King’s piercing glare.
“That…
Your Highness, involves internal pack laws.
She was required to leave.” Dronti casually strolled toward a nearby pillar, leaning his broad back against it and folding his arms across his chest.
“And what rule,” Dronti asked, his pale grey eyes narrowing dangerously, “did she break?”