"Oh."
Just as Luna began to push the wheelchair, she heard Ravhiel let out a quiet, uneasy murmur.
There was something in his tone—tight, wary—that made her pause.
"Is there… something wrong?" she asked, not out of concern exactly, but more out of a sharp curiosity. Something about his shift unsettled her.
Ravhiel didn't answer right away.
Then Luna felt it too.
A suffocating weight in the air. An oppressive, visceral force that pressed down on her chest like an invisible hand. Her heart skipped. Her skin prickled. And her stomach turned cold.
It was bloodlust.
Feral. Raw. Angry.
When she looked up, her eyes landed on a figure she vaguely remembered from earlier. His presence was impossible to ignore, even from a distance.
Tall. Broad. Radiating rage like a furnace.
Bastiel.
'One of the five assholes,' she thought bitterly.
"I didn't expect to see him so soon," Ravhiel muttered, his voice low and strained. "I assumed he'd be at the training grounds…" He turned his head ever so slightly toward her, his tone quieting to a whisper so faint it was nearly drowned out by the surrounding noise.
"Luna… Bastiel, out of everyone, has the worst temper. He's not afraid to be violent. He's the one with the most bloodlust. I'm sure you can feel it too. So please… whatever he does—do not intervene."
'Do not intervene… what does that even—'
She didn't get to finish the thought.
In the blink of an eye, Bastiel vanished from where he stood—and suddenly appeared right in front of them.
Luna's breath hitched, her heart slammed against her ribs. Her body moved to freeze, driven by instinct. He hadn't just walked over. He had moved—like a phantom, a blur of power—and now he was here.
His hand clamped down on Ravhiel's shirt.
Before Luna could react, Bastiel yanked him out of the wheelchair like he weighed nothing.
"B-Bastiel," Ravhiel choked, struggling in his grip, legs dangling weakly.
"You've got a lot of nerve coming to this area, Silverweight," Bastiel sneered, his face twisted with cruel amusement. "But then again, I'm in the worst fuckin' mood. Maybe seeing you here was a blessing, eh?"
His arm twitched.
"So I can release some steam—"
And with that, Bastiel hurled Ravhiel to the ground.
Luna flinched at the sickening thud of his body hitting the earth, followed by a strained wince of pain from him.
"R-Ravhiel!" she cried out, instincts driving her a step forward.
But Bastiel was already turning his attention toward her.
"Well, well," he grinned, wicked and taunting. "If it isn't Miss She-Wolf. How does it feel, huh? Everyone's talkin' about ya."
He stomped his boot down on Ravhiel's stomach, forcing a strangled groan from him.
Luna's body locked in place.
'He's in pain. He's seriously hurt… and they're all just watching.'
"To think the fate of this pack depends on your womb is fucking hilarious," Bastiel snorted. "But hey, makes things easier for me. All I gotta do is fuck you, right?"
Then, as if Ravhiel's suffering was just background noise, he kicked him again—hard.
"I already have to share responsibilities with those bastards," he went on, "now I gotta share a woman too?"
"S-Stop…" Luna whispered, her voice shaking—not from fear this time, but from rage.
She didn't care what Bastiel was saying. His crude words barely registered anymore. Her eyes were locked on Ravhiel, who lay crumpled on the ground, coughing and gasping with every brutal hit.
She looked around.
And what she saw made her stomach twist.
Laughter.
Amused eyes.
No one flinched. No one looked remotely sympathetic. Some even looked entertained.
'Is everyone here just cruel?' her thoughts trembled in disbelief. 'Do they all think he deserves this?'
Why?
She hadn't even known Ravhiel that long.
But this?
This was too much.
"R-Ravhiel…" she said softly, stepping closer, heart aching. He turned his head weakly toward her, pain obvious in his expression.
Yet… he smiled.
A faint, broken smile. The kind meant to comfort someone else even when you're the one hurting.
'You fucking idiot.'
Something in her snapped.
Heat rushed through her limbs, strange and unrelenting. Her chest tightened, her breath grew shallow—and her vision sharpened unnaturally.
The air around her seemed to shift.
And Bastiel noticed.
His golden eyes widened, then lit up with excitement. "Oh? So, you can transform," he chuckled darkly. "I was wondering when you'd finally stop acting like a lamb."
'Transform?' The word echoed in her mind. 'What the hell is he talking about?'
It didn't matter.
Her body was already moving.
"S-Stop… Stop it. Stop hurting Ravhiel," Luna said, stepping closer, her voice low but firm.
Bastiel's smile grew wider. "Hm? Or else what, huh? What can a weak little lamb like you do?"
He pressed his dirty boot against Ravhiel's face now—grinding it in slowly.
"Luna… don't," Ravhiel rasped from beneath him.
But Luna wasn't listening anymore.
Luna's body was taut like a bowstring, her fingers curling into trembling fists, claws itching to rip into Bastiel. Rage boiled beneath her skin, something primal rising—something that begged for release.
She was going to pounce.
But before she could even take a step, a calm but commanding voice sliced through the tension.
"What is going on here?"
It was a voice laced with authority and effortless dominance.
The chief.
Tyrnhael.
Bastiel instantly straightened, stepping away from Ravhiel as if he'd been caught red-handed—which, in all honesty, he had. The cruel smirk that had twisted his face just moments ago vanished like smoke, replaced with a blank neutrality.
Luna turned toward the sound and froze.
Tyrnhael's gaze locked onto her, and something flickered behind his eyes—surprise, maybe even curiosity.
"Oh my," he said, voice deceptively gentle. "Luna, did anything happen?"
Her heart thudded. The question caught her off guard. Not because he was asking, but because of the way he was looking at her. Like she was the problem. Again.
"W-What?" she asked, her voice uncertain.
"You seem like… you're about to transform."
Luna's breath hitched. 'Transform?' She blinked and instinctively glanced down at herself.
Her eyes widened.
She hadn't noticed it in the chaos—but now she felt it.
Her fingers had sharpened into claws. Her teeth—longer, sharper—pressed awkwardly inside her mouth. And white hairs were beginning to sprout from her arms, soft but thick. Her skin felt hot, stretched. Her blood hummed.
'What… What is happening to me?'
She stumbled back a little, shocked.
She didn't even know she could do this.
Tyrnhael's gaze then drifted to Ravhiel, who was still groaning quietly as he tried to push himself upright from the dirt.
"And…" Tyrnhael's voice turned slightly colder, "what is this?"
Bastiel didn't answer.
In fact, he deliberately looked away, suddenly far more interested in the clouds above than the battered boy below.
But Luna wasn't going to let it slide.
"H-He… he was beating him," she said, forcing the tremble into her voice, her eyes wide, scared, vulnerable. "Ravhiel didn't even do anything… He was just giving me a tour. That guy just—just attacked him out of nowhere!"
She poured fear into her voice, just enough to elicit sympathy—anything to get someone to see Ravhiel.
Tyrnhael turned his gaze on Bastiel with a subtle, restrained disappointment.
"Bastiel," he said, his tone chastising but far too mild for the scene before them. "What have I told you about that temper of yours? You've scared Luna."
'Wait… that's his problem? That Bastiel scared me? What about Ravhiel? What about the one bleeding on the ground?'
"I was just letting off some steam, Chief," Bastiel replied nonchalantly, brushing dust from his shoulder. "And maybe showing off a little. Y'know… letting her see what real strength looks like."
He gave Luna a wink, and she felt her stomach twist in disgust.
Tyrnhael sighed, the weariness in it sounding more like annoyance than concern. "If you need to let off steam, don't take it out on Ravhiel. He still has to feed the humans and omegas, and… do whatever it is he does."
Luna's expression froze.
'Whatever it is he does? This chief is just as bad as everyone else.'
Her eyes drifted to Ravhiel again—head bowed, hands shaking. No one moved to help him. No one so much as flinched.
"And you, Ravhiel," Tyrnhael added, voice devoid of warmth, "fix yourself up. You're giving Luna a tour. Why must you act like you're pitiful?"
That was too much.
Luna opened her mouth, fury rising in her throat—but before she could speak, Ravhiel's quiet voice broke through the air.
"Of course, Father. My apologies."
Time stopped.
'Father?' Luna thought, the word crashing into her like cold water. Her eyes widened in disbelief. 'FATHER? Is he… is he saying that Tyrnhael is his father?'
Her head turned between the two, studying them. Ravhiel, still on the ground, bruised and quiet. Tyrnhael, tall and composed.
Now that she was looking closely, she saw it—same dark hair, similar jawlines. There was a resemblance.
'But… if Ravhiel is his son, then why adopt Vaelen? Why say the chief has no heir?' Her thoughts were spiraling. 'Why isn't Ravhiel the one set to be the next leader? Shouldn't he be the chief instead?'
None of it made sense.
So many questions clouded her mind. So many things didn't add up.
Tyrnhael's cold eyes flicked between Bastiel and Ravhiel before settling on her again.
"Come, Bastiel. I initially came here because I had something to discuss with you." Then, with a shift in tone so polite it made her stomach churn, he added, "And Luna, enjoy the rest of your tour."
He said it kindly.
Like he hadn't just let his own son be humiliated and beaten in front of her.
Bastiel scoffed, not even glancing at Ravhiel—or Luna—as he turned and followed Tyrnhael without a word.
And just like that, they were gone.
Ravhiel remained on the ground.
Luna was seething.
'Seriously, what the hell is wrong with everyone here?' she thought, fists trembling again. Her gaze fell back to Ravhiel, who was quietly trying to reach for his wheelchair, body shaking with effort.
"Let me help—" she started, stepping forward instinctively.
But someone beat her to it.
"I'll do it," came a calm voice from beside her.
She blinked in surprise, turning.
A tall figure knelt beside Ravhiel, helping him up with careful hands.
Oh.
'Isn't that…'
"Nohlan…?" Ravhiel murmured, his voice breathless and confused as he looked up.
Another one of the five assholes. Great.