Bloodbound Scallion

Twelve years ago

Ronan Duskbane knelt in the snow, bleeding out, while the wolves who once swore loyalty to him circled like vultures.

The high cliffs of Blackthorn Keep loomed behind him, the scent of burning wood and blood thick in the air. His father, the Alpha King, lay dead at his feet his throat ripped open by the very pack who had once sworn to protect him.

Betrayal.

The word burned through Ronan's skull as the elders stepped forward, their faces carved from ice.

"You have broken our laws, Ronan Duskbane." The High Elder's voice was cold, final. "Your blood is cursed. Your soul is damned. And from this night forward, you are no longer Alpha of the Bloodmoon Pack."

Ronan clenched his teeth, feeling the burn of the silver cuffs biting into his wrists. They thought they could break him. They were wrong.

He lifted his gaze, locking eyes with the wolves who had once been his brothers. "You think you can kill me?" His voice was raw, dark with something more than pain. Something ancient.

The High Elder sneered. "No. But we can banish you."

And then, under the full Blood Moon, the elders cursed him.