Aaric Thorncrest

For centuries, an ancient belief existed among the packs. Pups born during an eclipse were not a blessing. They were an omen. The elders claimed that the darkness of that night marked their souls forever, bringing misfortune to those around them. No one questioned that tradition. No one dared. Until she was born. The night she opened her eyes, the sky was covered by a total eclipse. Hours later, her mother lost her life during childbirth. That was enough for the entire pack to find a culprit. It didn’t matter that she was only a newborn. From that day on, she ceased to be a daughter. She became a bad omen. Her father, the Alpha of the Crimson Fang Pack, never held her in his arms again. He never spoke her name with pride. To him, she was a mistake that the Moon Goddess should never have allowed. While her half-brother grew up surrounded by teachers, warriors, and praise as the future heir of the pack, she learned a different kind of lesson. She learned that silence avoided problems. That hunger could last for days. That the cold eventually felt normal. And that no one would come when she needed help. Over the years, the room where she slept stopped feeling like a bedroom and began to feel like a cell. It was a small stone room, set apart from the rest of the Alpha’s residence, with a single window too high to look outside. Whenever her father thought she had disobeyed an order or simply took out the frustration of a bad day on her, she would be locked in there for entire days. Sometimes she received a piece of bread and water. Other times, not even that. No one protested. The servants lowered their heads. The warriors pretended not to see her. Because defying the Alpha meant challenging the entire pack. As the years passed, she stopped asking for explanations. She also stopped wondering why no one loved her. She just sat by the window, imagining what it would be like to feel the wind beyond those walls. Her only companion was her wolf. Or rather, it had been. Because even she was beginning to weaken. —“Are you still with me...?” she would whisper some nights, hugging her knees as the cold swept through the room. At first, she always received an answer. A warm voice. A small comfort. As time went on... Silence took its place. Not because her wolf had decided to abandon her. But because both of them were too exhausted. Each passing day, the bond between them grew weaker. Like a flame struggling not to go out.

Updated September 6, 2026