Stealing the Alpha’s Heritage

Chapter 13

POV Thorne

"Keep your guard up, Kael. A wolf who drops his defense is a wolf who bleeds."

My son circles me in the training yard, his small fists raised in perfect mimicry of my stance. Morning fog clings to the grass, but sweat already beads on his forehead. We've been at this for an hour.

"Like this, Papa?" Kael shifts his weight, executing the defensive position I've drilled into him for days.

"Better. Now attack me."

He launches forward with surprising speed, his tiny fist aimed at my knee—the only target he can reach. I sidestep easily, but something changes at that moment. Kael's eyes flash from green to burning red, and his next strike carries force that shouldn't exist in a child's body.

The impact sends vibrations up my leg. I stumble, caught off guard.

"Did I hurt you, Papa?" The red fades from his eyes as quickly as it appeared, leaving my son looking confused and slightly frightened.

"No, little wolf." I kneel to his level, studying his face. "Where did you learn to hit like that?"

"I don't know. Sometimes I feel hot inside, and then I'm stronger." He flexes his small fingers. "Is that bad?"

"That's your Alpha blood waking up." I ruffle his dark hair.

"Papa, why does Finn talk to no one?" Kael's question surprises me.

"What do you mean?"

"He says he has shadow friends." Kael's nose wrinkles. "But I never see anyone."

"Show me where."

Kael leads me through the pack house to the library, where we find Finn sitting in the darkest corner, his lips moving in animated conversation with empty air. His gray eyes track something invisible.

"Finn." I keep my voice gentle. "Who are you talking to?"

He looks up, those unsettling eyes focusing on me with difficulty. "The shadow wolves. They tell me secrets."

"What kind of secrets?"

"About what's coming." His voice drops to barely a whisper. "They say one of us has to go away. They keep asking which one should stay."

"Finn, there's no one there—"

"They don't like when people say that." He turns back to his corner, dismissing me entirely. "They get angry when no one believes."

"Thorne, we need to discuss the boys."

Serena's voice cuts through my concern. She stands in the doorway wearing another desperate dress, her face painted with false worry.

"Not now, Serena."

"Yes, now." She steps into the library, her heels clicking against hardwood. "Kael's showing signs of advanced aggression, and Finn is clearly disturbed. They need professional help."

"They need training—"

"They need boarding school. Mountain Ridge Academy specializes in problematic Alpha children. They could help normalize—"

My hand closes around her throat before she finishes. I lift her off the ground, her feet dangling as she claws at my grip.

"You want to send my heirs away?" Each word comes out as a snarl.

"Thorne—can't—breathe—"

"Good." I squeeze harder, watching her face turn purple. "Maybe lack of oxygen will fix your defective brain that thinks it can make decisions about MY sons."

"Papa?"

Finn's voice breaks through my rage. I drop Serena. She collapses gasping, crawling toward the door on her hands and knees.

"If you ever suggest separating me from my sons again," I tell her retreating form, "I'll mount your head on the pack house gates."

She flees. The boys remain, watching me with different expressions—Kael with awe, Finn with something unreadable.

"Boys, go to your room. I'll be there soon."

They obey without argument. Once they're gone, I slump against the wall, trying to process what I've witnessed.

"You always did have a temper."

My mother materializes from the connecting doorway.

"You were listening?"

"I'm always listening when it comes to my grandsons." She moves into the room with careful steps. "The curse is manifesting early."

"There is no curse—"

"Kael's eyes turned red, didn't they? And Finn sees the shadow wolves—the spirits of dead Blackwood twins who never got to grow up." Her words hit like physical blows. "The curse is not only real, Thorne. It's accelerating."

"You're trying to scare me with ghost stories—"

"I'm trying to save your sons." She offers me an ancient leather journal, its pages yellowed with age. "Every Blackwood twin pair for three hundred years. Look at the pattern."

I snatch the journal, scanning entries written in various hands across generations. The pattern is undeniable. Twin births every third generation. One twin dead before their sixth birthday. Always.

"This proves nothing—"

"Page seventy-three."

I flip to the marked page. The entry is in my great-grandmother's handwriting, describing her sons. One showed early Alpha traits—eyes that flashed red, strength beyond his years. The other saw shadows, heard voices. On their fifth birthday, during the Blood Moon, the stronger twin killed the weaker in what witnesses called a trance state.

"No." The journal falls from my numb fingers.

"The curse demands a sacrifice." Rowena retrieves the journal with steady hands. "One twin must die for the other to become Supreme Alpha—a wolf of unprecedented power. It happens on their fifth birthday, under the Blood Moon."

"There has to be another way—"

"There is." She leans forward, her eyes blazing with desperate hope. "A ritual that could break the curse entirely. But it requires both boys, willing participation, and perfect timing."

"What kind of ritual?"

"Blood magic. Ancient, dangerous, but documented to work." She opens the journal to another page covered in symbols and carefully drawn diagrams. "Three other Blackwood twins survived past five using this method. Both twins lived full lives, though neither became Supreme Alpha."

"You're suggesting I deny them their birthright—"

"I'm suggesting you save both their lives." Her voice cracks for the first time. "The Blood Moon rises in eighteen months. If we don't break the curse before then, you'll watch one son murder the other."

"And if I refuse this ritual?"

"Then you better start choosing which son you prefer." Her words cut deep. "Because only one will survive to see six, and he'll carry his brother's blood on his hands forever."

My fingers curl around the edge of my desk, knuckles blanching white against the dark wood. The room seems to shrink around me, walls pressing inward as the weight of her prophecy settles across my shoulders like a burial shroud.

"I won't let that happen to my sons."

"You think you have a choice?" A hollow laugh escapes her throat. "The curse doesn't care about your intentions, Thorne."

Kill one to save the other. Save one and watch him become a murderer.

The thoughts spiral through my mind, each option more impossible than the last. My chest constricts until breathing becomes a conscious effort, until rage becomes the only emotion that makes sense.

"Get out."

"Thorne—"

"GET OUT!" My roar shakes the windows.

She leaves the journal on the table, a silent reminder of the death sentence hanging over my boys. Through the window, I watch storm clouds gather on the horizon, dark and ominous.

"Papa?" Kael stands in the doorway, Finn beside him. "The shadow wolves want to know why Grandmother is crying."

"She's worried about you both." The truth tastes like ash.

"The shadows say we should be worried too." Finn's gray eyes seem to look through me. "They say the red moon is coming, and only one of us gets to stay when it leaves."

Kael takes his brother's hand, their fingers interlocking with practiced ease. "We'll both stay. We're together forever, right, Papa?"

The lie sticks in my throat, but I force it out anyway. "Forever, my princes."