Chapter 1575: The Rise of a New Alpha
The final words that slipped from Roganâs mouth echoed inside Steveâs mind, looping again and again until they almost didnât sound real.
Be careful⊠of the one called Unzoku.
It was a name Steve had never heard before. The sound of it felt foreign, ancient, even. What was Unzoku? Who was Unzoku? And to go far to say that they werenât just hiding from humans, so what was Unzoku?
When Steve had joined Roganâs pack all those years ago, the camp in the mountains had already been established. Rogan often spoke about his distrust of humans, about their greed and the chaos they brought. He would rant for hours about how the Werewolves had no choice but to hide away from the world. Steve had believed it, had followed his lead. But now, hearing those dying words, a crack had formed in everything he thought he knew.
If Roganâs final thoughts werenât about humans, if they were instead about this single name, this one individual, then perhaps the true reason they had been hiding wasnât what any of them believed.
Was Rogan scared of him? Steve wondered. Was Unzoku powerful enough to terrify even him?
He wanted answers, but there was no one left to ask. The man who might have known was gone, and with him, the truth.
Steveâs chest felt hollow. There was an ache in his heart that no amount of strength could heal.
He looked down one last time at Roganâs lifeless form and whispered, âGoodbye, Rogan. You did a good job leading the pack⊠most of the time, anyway. There were just a few hiccups along the way.â
He tried to smile, but it came out broken.
Straightening his back, Steve stood there for a while, saying nothing. His shoulders were heavy, his eyes locked on the sky that stretched endlessly above the mountain peaks.
Jack, who had been standing behind him quietly, finally walked closer. He stopped beside his brother and placed a hand gently on his shoulder. For a second, Jack thought he was just offering comfort, but then, he felt it.
A strange jolt ran through his fingertips, a faint tremor that sent adrenaline rushing through his veins. His instincts screamed at him, the same way they did before a fight.
âSteve,â Jack said slowly, his tone sharpening. âTurn around.â
Steve didnât react. He stood motionless, his gaze distant, lost in thought.
âSteve,â Jack repeated, this time louder, more urgent. âTurn around!â
The shout broke through Steveâs haze. He blinked, snapping back to reality, and turned to face his brother. âWhat is it?â he asked, confused. âWhatâs wrong?â
Jackâs eyes narrowed as he took a step back. The moment their eyes met, Jackâs stomach sank. He could see it, the faint glow that wasnât there before.
âSteve⊠listen to me carefully.â Jack lifted his hand slowly, his voice steady but serious. âYour eyes. Theyâre red.â
He didnât need to finish the sentence. Steve knew exactly what that meant.
He had become an Alpha.
His breath caught in his throat. He raised his trembling hand as if hoping to see something on his skin that would explain what was happening. âHow? How did this happen?â he said. âIâm part of your pack. Things should be fine, right? I shouldnât⊠I shouldnât become one this fast. Thatâs not possible.â
Jack didnât answer right away, and Steve felt a creeping panic stir in his chest. His heart pounded, his body tingled with an itching energy that he couldnât control.
He needed to be sure. Without another word, Steve turned and rushed toward the remaining Werewolves who had gathered nearby. Their eyes were all fixed on him, nervous, uncertain, afraid.
When he looked closely, Steve froze. Every single one of them had blue eyes.
Not one, not two, all of them.
They werenât broken or lost. They hadnât become Omegas. Instead, they were bonded, to him.
Steve could feel it, the connection forming deep inside, the link that only an Alpha could sense.
âI donât understand,â Steve said, his voice unsteady. âI left this pack. I was part of yours, Jack. Even if I somehow became an Alpha, how could they still follow me? Even if I killed their leader, that shouldnât make me theirs. Thatâs⊠not how this works!â
He ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing. âAre the history books wrong? Is everything we know wrong? Or is this something else entirely?â
Panic began to rise in his chest, not from fear of power, but from what it might mean. If he was now an Alpha, and Jack was also an Alpha, then the two of themâŠ
Would they eventually be forced to fight each other?
Would the world itself push them into conflict?
His breathing quickened, his hands shaking as the thought took hold. He didnât want to believe it, but deep down, he knew how the laws of their kind worked. Two Alphas could never coexist peacefully, not for long.
âWhy are you panicking?â Jack said suddenly, his voice calm, grounding. He stepped closer, his usual confident grin slowly returning. âIsnât this actually the best outcome? Look at whatâs in front of you. Youâve become the leader of all these Werewolves.â
Steve stared at him in disbelief.
âThey know you, Steve,â Jack continued. âThey trust you. Theyâve seen what kind of person you are. Iâm an outsider to them. But you? Youâre the one who can guide them now. You can give them what Rogan couldnât.â
Jack clapped him gently on the arm. âAnd besides,â he said, his grin widening slightly, âwe donât have to accept every rule thatâs been forced on us. We can fight against it. If anyone can prove that two Alphas donât have to destroy each other, itâs us. You and me.â
Steve looked up, meeting his brotherâs gaze.
Jackâs tone softened. âWeâll show them, Steve. Weâll prove that blood, real blood, family, is stronger than whatever these laws say it has to be.â
The tension in Steveâs shoulders eased a little. Jackâs words had that effect, simple, direct, always cutting through the noise.
Steve let out a shaky breath, his heartbeat slowly calming. Jack had always been the one to face things head-on, to find the light even in the darkest moment. Maybe it was time for him to do the same.
He looked once more at the fallen Rogan, the pack that had gathered quietly around them, and then at his brother. The mountain wind carried the faint scent of ash and blood, but beneath it, there was something else, a feeling of change, of something beginning anew.
Still, even as he tried to take comfort in Jackâs words, a question lingered at the back of his mind, one that refused to fade.
Who was Unzoku?
And why had Rogan been so afraid of him?
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