1. THE ALPHA’S DAUGHTER
SERAPHINA
“A woman cannot lead a pack,” my father, Alpha Darious Nightbane, declared coldly, standing before the gathered Council and warriors at the final trial of the Heir Selection Ceremony.
I stood, breathless and bloodied, having just defeated the last of the contenders in front of a crowd that expected a new leader to rise. I had won. Fairly. Decisively.
But it didn’t matter. Not to him.
In my wolf form, I had towered over the last fallen candidate, my claws pressed firmly to his throat, not enough to kill, but enough to make him submit. The crowd had fallen silent, every gaze locked onto me.
I stood at the center of the grand arena, still in my wolf form, tall, lean, and blood-smeared, my white coat streaked with dust and crimson. My breathing was steady, controlled, the silence around me heavy with judgment. Across the room, my father’s cold, commanding black eyes found mine. But I didn’t blink.
“Why?” My voice rang out, sharp and unwavering, “I defeated every candidate. I earned this.”
I was Seraphina Nightbane, the only child of the Alpha of the North. No one questioned him. No one dared. Although I always had.
My father’s jaw clenched, his expression hardening but there was a flicker in his eyes. Regret, maybe. Or something dangerously close to it.
“Because it’s tradition,” he said, quieter at first, then louder as if he needed the conviction to hold. “Only men can lead a pack. That is the law. Women…were born to follow. To obey. Not to rule.”
He looked away for the briefest second, then snapped his gaze back to mine. “This law has guided our kind for generations, and it will remain so. Tradition is not up for debate.”
I was born of his blood, Alpha blood, and still it was never enough. I knew it wouldn’t be. I could crush every opponent, prove myself a hundred times over, and it still wouldn’t matter. All because I was a woman.
That one truth had always been enough to cage me.
Around us, the pack Elders nodded in solemn agreement, their expressions passive. Compliant.
A low growl rumbled in my chest, deep and primal. My claws scraped against the stone floor, muscles coiling beneath my white fur as fury surged through me.
With a snarl, I launched forward, teeth bared as all my restraint nearly slipped away.
“What was the point of the Heiress Selection Ceremony then?” I demanded, voice cracking but loud enough to echo. “Why make me compete at all if you never intended to choose me?”
He didn’t blink. “It was never about naming you heir,” he said coldly, “It was a formality. Meant to remind our people that tradition still matters.”
My heart pounded. “So all this bloodshed, all this battle, me winning, it meant nothing?”
