As Kieran stared at the tall building in front of him, his chest tightened. This was once his home. A safe place, built by his people, a place filled with love, warmth, and memories.
He had walked those halls with Lysandra and shared it with his family—the Drakalons. They had laughed here, eaten together, and made plans for the future. But now, it felt cold. There were no welcoming lights, no laughter, and no sounds of his people.
It felt… hollow.
Everything was different and none of it felt like it was before. Someone else lived here now, someone who didn't belong and that felt wrong. Although it had been a decade since the massacre, it felt like hours to Kieran. The pain still clung to that place and he could feel it deep in his bones.
Who had done this? He wondered.
Thunder rolled in the sky and the rain continued to pour down as broken memories kept flashing through his mind—the witches, the werewolves, and the one who led them, the one who had destroyed everything—Maximus.
Kieran felt weak.
His body wasn't the same.
He was covered in mud, naked as the day he was born, and confused. He felt so vulnerable, so... exposed, having no strength or protection. He wasn't the King or Drakhaal he once was, not anymore. And that brought so many questions.
How did he get here? Why was he alive again? He didn't know.
Just then, a sudden flare from a torch cut through the storm, momentarily blinding him. Kieran raised his arm instinctively, shielding his eyes from the light.
What was that?
Turning his head toward the source, he saw figures emerging from the shadows. Men. They approached him wielding swords. When they got closer, their eyes widened in surprise and they hesitated for a moment, clearly taken aback by the sight of him, naked and covered in dirt.
"What the hell?" One of them muttered in disbelief. "Who are you?"
"How did you get here, dressed like—that?" Another asked and laughter erupted from amongst them.
Kieran watched them but didn't speak. They were not his people and didn't belong here.
"Did you fall from the skies?"
"He doesn't speak," One of the men said and stepped forward with a sword pointed at Kieran. "Do you need help with that? I could carve the answers right out of your mouth with my blade"
Still, Kieran didn't respond or try to run. That surprised the men. He was naked, scentless, and unarmed. Finally, Cassius, the leader of the pack's soldiers, approached cautiously and studied him. He was a powerful Gamma and one of the pack's most skilled warriors.
"You're not from around here, you do not have a scent," He said, circling him. "What are you? And what is your business in our land?"
Their land...
Kieran's jaw clenched and his hands curled into a fist as blood boiled in his veins. The nerves of them to call this their land. The same land where the blood of his people had been spilled.
"Speak!" Cassius commanded, baring his fangs and claws.
Werewolves. They were werewolves!
Kieran's heart burned with anger as the truth sank in. The werewolves had taken his land. His home. His people's legacy. He wanted nothing more than to rip them apart, limb from limb, to make them pay for everything they had done.
But he couldn't.
Without his cougar and dragon, he was just a man—weak, broken, and powerless.
Despite the fear, anger, and confusion that churned in his gut, he didn't run. He stood his ground, bracing himself for whatever was to come.
When Cassius saw this, he motioned for the men to grab him at once. "You will gladly share your pathetic story with the alpha. I'm quite certain he will find you... interesting"
•••
The men around him were silent as they dragged him through the familiar, but unfamiliar halls. Everything had changed. His entire world had been flipped upside down and the walls now felt cold and sterile.
The werewolves had not only taken over, but they asserted dominance over every nook and cranny of the building, wiping out everything that had to do with the Drakalons.
Kieran's eyes darted around, searching for anything that made sense—anything familiar. But all he found were reminders of what had been taken from him. The once warm, welcoming home had been transformed into something… alien.
Statues of the Drakalon ancestors, dragons, and mountain lions that were once positioned at the great entrance and halls had been removed and replaced by towering wolf effigies. Though people moved about, none of it felt right.
As they kept walking, he was yanked forward, and his legs nearly buckled beneath him. Finally, they reached the council chamber and Cassius exchanged words with one of the guards outside. The latter cast a curious glance at Kieran's naked form, and then he nodded and went inside.
It didn't take long before the door swung open, and Kieran was pushed inside, still too disoriented to resist fully. As he regained his stance and looked around, his eyes landed on the figure sitting behind a stone table in the middle of the room.
The Alpha of Alphas and his archenemy.
The recognition was instant.
He was the wolf who had orchestrated it all—the war, the destruction, the betrayal. And now, he dared to sit in his chair in his council room. Kieran's blood boiled with fury. It was hot and raw, coursing through his veins as he glared at his nemesis.
Maximus.
He bore the scars of the battle that nearly killed him. The left side of his face, which had been burned by Kieran's dragonfire, left deep scars from his jaw to his temple. Magic had healed him over the years, but it couldn't completely erase the damage.
His skin was rough and uneven where the fire had touched him, and his left eye, though still there, had a faint cloudy look. The fire had not blinded him, but it weakened his sight, including his once thick and dark hair which now had streaks of silver near the burned area.
His left hand didn't move as easily as before. The fire had damaged it, and even with magic, it wasn't fully the same. Sometimes, when he pushed himself too hard, the pain returned as a reminder of how close he had come to death.
The fire had also aged him and not even his wolf had been able to heal or recover from it.
But despite everything, Maximus was still powerful. His scars didn't make him weak, they made him more fearsome. He had survived the Dragonfire, and that only made him more dangerous than before.
As Kieran's anger surged, he tried to move, to charge forward and rip Maximus apart, but his legs wouldn't obey. His muscles felt as if they were made of lead and his energy drained to the bone. The men who had dragged him in held him tightly, keeping him rooted to the spot.
He was then shoved roughly by Cassius who stood beside him. The impact sent him down as he crashed to his knees before Maximus. His palms scraped against the cold floor, but he barely registered the pain. All he could focus on was the man before him, the one who had torn his world apart.
"What is this?" Maximus asked, looking down at Kieran with a cold and uninterested expression on his face. He didn't even have the faintest flicker of recognition in his eyes.
"We found him on our land, covered in dirt and without clothes"
"Well, well," Maximus said in a low and almost dismissive voice. "Another stray in my home? What do you want, pup?"
Pup?
Did he not recognize him? Kieran wondered, confused. He had anticipated a fight or maybe, another war to finish up what he started, but not this.
And did he just call this his home?
His chest heaved with rage, but he remained silent. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, and the words he longed to say stuck like stones in his throat. The desire for retribution was nearly overwhelming.
When he remained silent and didn't respond, Cassius sneered and kicked him hard, sending him tumbling to the ground. The loud and cruel laughter of the men filled the air, but Kieran barely noticed.
Maximus leaned back in his chair and narrowed his eyes slightly. He scanned Kieran's naked figure and was drawn to the man's perfectly sculpted body, still covered in dirt from the rainstorm. He took note of his muscles, the sharp lines of his physique, the powerful build that had been honed for war...
Cassius had told him how they found him unarmed and not attempting to flee and that sounded strange to Maximus. After all, no one just appeared from nowhere and stood around in the rain without purpose. But this man... he was different. He didn't act like a prey, and he didn't act like a hunter either.
He was an anomaly.
"What is your mission here?" Maximus finally asked with a mixture of disdain and amusement in his voice.
But Kieran remained silent with his fists clenched tight. His strength wasn't gone forever, he knew it. He just needed time and then, he would rise again.
For some reasons unknown to him, Maximus didn't know who he was. But Kieran knew exactly who Maximus was. And he wouldn't stop until he had his revenge.
"Take him away and teach him how to speak," Maximus ordered coldly. "Report back when he's ready."
"Yes, Alpha," The men replied quickly and bowed. Moving fast, they grabbed him by his arms and dragged him out of the chamber.
Kieran was too weak to fight back. He couldn't even resist as they took him down a dark corridor with his bare feet scraping the stone floor. When they reached a cold, damp cell with stone walls and a dirt-covered floor, they threw him in. The air smelled of blood, mold, and rusted metal.
Immediately after slamming the door shut, they began.