Alpha's Shadow

POV: Dante

The night I left Talon Pack still haunted me. It was a wound that had never fully healed, the scar of a choice I wasn't even sure had been mine to make. Betrayal had a way of warping everything, turning what was once familiar into something alien and unrecognizable. Leaving had felt like both the ultimate act of selfishness and a necessary sacrifice to protect the pack I'd once called family.

Even now, I couldn't decide if it was ambition or loyalty that had driven me away. For weeks, I'd battled the tension within the pack, the constant push and pull between my vision for its future and the council's devotion to tradition. The elders saw my instincts, my drive to lead, as dangerous. I told myself I wanted to protect Talon Pack, to guide it to a better future, but there were moments-quiet, biting moments-when I wondered if it was my pride whispering those promises, not my heart.

The tension had been building for weeks. The elders saw me as a threat, my drive and ambition at odds with the order they wanted to maintain. I was a wolf of instinct, of strength, and that didn't sit well with a council that prized obedience. I couldn't deny it-I wanted to lead, wanted to bring change to the pack. I'd thought my vision for the pack would resonate with them, that my loyalty would be enough.

But I'd been wrong. Instead of respect, I'd earned distrust, skepticism. And when accusations arose-whispers of recklessness, of challenging the Alpha's authority-I knew the path I'd wanted for myself was gone. The Alpha himself had pulled me aside, his face cold, his words harsher than I'd expected.

"You're too wild, Dante," he'd said, his voice a quiet snarl. "Too dangerous to be trusted with the future of Talon Pack."

Those words haunted me. I had always believed my strength was my gift to the pack, my willingness to challenge the status quo an asset. But the council saw it as recklessness, my ambition as a threat to their order. My loyalty was never in question-not to me. Yet, to them, my very presence had become a disruption. When the elders formally banished me, I didn't argue. I told myself I was leaving to protect them from the chaos I seemed to inspire. But deep down, I wondered if I was running, not for the pack's sake but for my own pride.

That doubt festered as I packed my meager belongings and prepared to leave. As the moon rose over the clearing that last night, Elara found me. Her eyes-those fierce, steady eyes-cut through me more deeply than any blade.

"Dante," she said, her voice trembling even as she tried to hold it steady. "What happened? Why are they forcing you to leave?"

I hesitated, the truth too raw to put into words. How could I tell her I wasn't sure if I was leaving out of love for the pack or spite for those who had rejected me? How could I explain that my ambition, which I'd once believed was born of loyalty, now felt tangled with pride?

"Elara," I said, my voice low, "this isn't my place anymore."

Her brows furrowed, and the anger flashing in her eyes was as sharp as her words. "That's not true, and you know it. The pack is your family. I'm your family."

The weight of her words broke something in me. A part of me wanted to believe her, to stay and fight for the home I'd always known. But another voice whispered, darker and crueler: You'll never be enough for them. If I stayed, I'd be nothing but a shadow of the leader I'd wanted to be, a reminder of division and mistrust.

"I have to go," I said, forcing the words through the knot in my throat. "If I stay, I'll only hurt the pack. This is the only way to protect it."

She stepped closer, her hand reaching out as if to tether me in place. "And what about us? Am I not enough to make you stay?"

The raw ache in her voice tore through me, and for a moment, I wanted to tell her the truth-that she was my anchor, the only thing that made leaving feel like dying. But the pack needed unity, and I had become a symbol of division. My pride wouldn't let me stay where I wasn't trusted. My loyalty wouldn't let me take the pack down with me.

"You'll understand someday," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm doing this for you. For them."

Her hand dropped, and the light in her eyes dimmed. "No, Dante. You're doing this for yourself."

Her words struck harder than any accusation from the elders. As she turned and walked away, her absence left a gaping void in the clearing. For a moment, I almost called out to her, almost begged her to stay. But I didn't. The damage was already done.

I left that night, each step heavy with the weight of everything I was giving up: the pack I'd grown up with, the home I'd known, and the future I'd dreamed of. And Elara... Elara, who had been my constant, my anchor. The one wolf who had seen me for who I truly was and believed in me anyway.

I told myself I would be fine on my own, that leaving Talon Pack was a chance to find a new path. But deep down, a part of me knew that something had been left behind, something I could never truly recover. Talon Pack had been more than just a home-it had been my purpose, my future.

And Elara... she had been my anchor, my constant. Even now, years later, her face haunted my memories, a reminder of everything I'd given up, everything I'd failed to protect.

________________________________________

(Elara's POV)

After Dante left, Talon Pack was never quite the same. The pack felt quieter, the routines we'd once followed so naturally now feeling hollow. I told myself I didn't miss him, that his absence was a blessing-that we were better off without the chaos he brought, without the constant tension of his ambitions clashing with the elders' traditions. But that was a lie, and I knew it.

I missed him every day.

His departure was the beginning of my journey to becoming Alpha. As the council's suspicions about Dante spread to the rest of the pack, I was left to step into the space he'd left behind. I took on more responsibilities, proving my loyalty, my commitment, to every wolf who needed reassurance that I would be a leader they could trust. I was quieter than Dante, steadier, the kind of wolf who didn't threaten the stability they craved. The elders saw me as reliable, and I grew into that role because I had to.

But there were moments, late at night, when I would think about Dante-the way he'd looked at me that last night, the way he'd let me believe that leaving was his choice. I'd known him for too long, could read the pain in his eyes, the anger and hurt he was trying to bury. He hadn't chosen to leave. He'd been forced, stripped of the place he'd always thought would be his.

A part of me wanted to hate him for leaving, to believe he'd abandoned us. But another part of me, the part that had grown up with him, that had fought alongside him, knew the truth. He was as loyal to Talon Pack as I was, but his loyalty had been too intense, too wild, for the pack to accept.

As I rose through the ranks, I made a promise to myself: I would lead differently. I would create a pack that would accept all wolves, that wouldn't see strength or ambition as threats. I would be the Alpha that Dante could have believed in. And in some way, I was leading not just for Talon Pack but for him, for the promise we had once shared before everything fell apart.

________________________________________

(Dante's POV)

Flashback

The tension had been building long before that fateful night. The council of elders and I had clashed too many times, our visions for the pack colliding like stones in a torrent. They saw me as reckless, wild-a wolf who would destabilize everything they had spent years building.

One of the most heated moments came during a pack council meeting. A dispute had arisen over whether to renegotiate a territorial boundary with a neighboring pack. I'd argued that our strength lay in expanding our borders, showing the surrounding packs that Talon Pack was not to be underestimated.

"We're stronger than we've ever been," I said, my voice firm as I faced the council. "Why should we settle for appeasing our neighbors when we could take what we need?"

Osric, one of the more traditional elders, shook his head. "Strength isn't just about force, Dante. It's about knowing when to stand down. Expanding our borders risks war we don't need."

"That's fear talking," I countered, my frustration boiling over. "If we don't show strength, we'll be seen as weak. And weakness invites attack."

The Alpha had intervened then, his tone as cold as the winter wind. "Enough, Dante. This isn't a challenge for dominance. We make decisions as a pack, not through force."

The sting of his words lingered long after the meeting. I had thought I was fighting for the pack's future, but to them, I was challenging the very foundation of our unity.

________________________________________

Through it all, Elara had been my anchor. Where the council saw recklessness, she saw potential. Where others doubted me, she believed. Her unwavering trust had been a lifeline, but it had also made leaving all the harder.

I remembered one night vividly-long before the council's final decision-when we had walked together under the light of the full moon. The tension in the pack had already begun to weigh on me, but Elara's presence was a balm.

"You're not reckless," she had said, her voice steady. "You see things others can't. You challenge them because you want more for the pack, not because you want to tear it apart."

Her words had touched something deep within me, a place I rarely let myself explore. But even then, doubt whispered in the back of my mind.

"And what if they're right?" I'd asked her. "What if I'm too much for this pack?"

Her hand had brushed against mine, a fleeting touch that carried more reassurance than words ever could. "You're not too much, Dante. They're just not enough to see it."

I had wanted to believe her, but as the days wore on, the weight of the council's distrust only grew heavier.

________________________________________

The night I was banished, I felt every emotion at once-anger, regret, shame, and a bitterness I couldn't fully explain. The Alpha had spoken with finality, his words leaving no room for argument.

"You're too wild, Dante," he had said, his eyes cold. "Your ambition blinds you to what this pack needs. You're a threat to its stability."

I had packed my belongings in silence, the sting of rejection overshadowing everything else. But as I stood in the clearing, preparing to leave, Elara found me.

"Dante," she said, her voice trembling. "What happened? Why are they forcing you to leave?"

Her gaze searched mine, desperate for answers, but I couldn't find the words. How could I tell her the truth? That I wasn't sure if I was leaving for the pack's sake or my own pride?

"Elara, this isn't my place anymore," I said finally, my voice heavy.

Her eyes flared with anger, her emotions spilling out in a way I rarely saw. "That's not true, and you know it. You belong here. The pack needs you. I need you."

Her words struck deeper than any blow. For a moment, I wavered. The thought of staying, of fighting for the pack and for her, tugged at me like a lifeline. But the council's judgment echoed in my mind: Too wild. Too dangerous. If I stayed, I would only deepen the divisions.

"I have to go," I said, my throat tight. "If I stay, I'll tear this pack apart."

Her hand reached out, brushing against my arm, and the raw ache in her voice nearly broke me. "And what about us? Am I not enough to make you stay?"

I wanted to tell her the truth-that she was everything to me, that leaving her felt like ripping away a piece of my soul. But my pride wouldn't let me. My loyalty wouldn't allow it.

"You'll understand someday," I said, forcing the words out. "I'm doing this for you. For the pack."

Her hand dropped, and her eyes dimmed with a hurt that would haunt me forever. "No, Dante. You're doing this for yourself."

She walked away, and with each step, the void she left behind grew larger. I stood frozen, torn between chasing after her and leaving. But the damage was already done. I turned and walked into the night, each step heavier than the last.

________________________________________

Present Day

Years later, her words still echoed in my mind. I had told myself leaving was the right thing, but the doubt never left me. Had I done it for the pack, or had I done it because I couldn't stand to be questioned, to be seen as less than the leader I believed I could be?

The rumors of Silas and his plans had stirred something I thought I'd buried. For the first time in years, I felt the pull of home, the pack I'd abandoned, and the wolf I'd left behind.

Elara had been my anchor, the one constant in my life. And now, Talon Pack needed me again. She needed me again.

I didn't have a choice.

I was going back.