The moon hung high in the night sky, its silvery glow spilling over the pack's lands, casting long shadows across the quiet forest. The pack house was silent, save for the occasional creak of the wooden beams or the distant rustle of the wind in the trees. Opal had trouble sleeping, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts after the day's training and the secret conversation overheard between her parents.
She found herself drawn to the porch, where Alpha Griffin often spent his evenings when the rest of the pack was asleep. Sure enough, he was there, seated on the wide wooden steps with his broad shoulders silhouetted against the pale light. His gaze was fixed on the horizon, his expression unreadable.
"Can't sleep?" his deep voice rumbled without looking at her.
Opal hesitated in the doorway, suddenly uncertain if she should disturb him. But the questions weighing on her heart pushed her forward. She stepped outside, the cool night air prickling her skin. "No. Too much on my mind."
Griffin turned to her, his silver eyes softening as he gestured for her to sit beside him. She lowered herself onto the step, pulling her knees to her chest.
They sat in silence for a few moments, the kind of comfortable quiet she'd always shared with her father. Finally, Opal broke it, her voice tentative. "Father… do you think I have a chance at being the alpha? Of leading the pack?"
Alpha Griffin exhaled slowly, his gaze returning to the horizon. He didn't answer immediately, as though carefully considering his words. "If it is the Moon Goddess's plan," he said finally, "then yes. You could be alpha. But even I don't know her plan, Opal. No one does."
Opal frowned, her violet eyes searching his face. "But… don't you think I'm capable? Don't you see it in me?"
"I see strength in you," Griffin said, turning his gaze to her. "I see determination, intelligence, and heart. You have all the qualities of a great leader. But being alpha isn't just about those things. It's about destiny. The Moon Goddess chooses her alphas, just as she chooses our mates."
Opal looked away, her hands tightening around her knees. "So, it's not up to me. It's not about how hard I work, how much I train."
Griffin shook his head. "It's not that simple. Your effort, your dedication—they matter. They prepare you for whatever role the Moon Goddess has in store for you. But in the end, her will is what guides us."
For a moment, Opal was quiet, her mind racing. Then she turned to him again. "What about the prophecy? You and Mother—what aren't you telling us?"
Griffin stiffened, his silver eyes narrowing slightly. "What do you mean?"
"I heard you talking," Opal admitted, her voice steady despite her nerves. "About the witch, Azeala. About how we're different. Special. And I think it has something to do with the prophecy of quintuplet alphas, doesn't it?"
Alpha Griffin sighed, running a hand through his silver-streaked hair. "You shouldn't have been eavesdropping."
"I had to," Opal said, her tone firm. "You're keeping things from us—things we need to know."
He studied her for a long moment before nodding slowly. "Very well. If you're old enough to listen in on your parents' conversations, you're old enough to hear the truth."
Opal straightened, her heart pounding.
"There is a prophecy," Griffin began, his voice low. "It's ancient, passed down through only a few alpha bloodlines. It speaks of a time when quintuplets will be born into an alpha family. These quintuplets will carry immense power—strength beyond that of any normal wolf. Together, they will be capable of incredible things. Some say they will possess gifts granted by the Moon Goddess herself."
Opal's breath caught. "Gifts? Like powers?"
Griffin nodded. "It's said that their bond will transcend anything seen before. They will be able to sense each other's thoughts, share their strengths, and stand as one against any threat. But with such power comes danger."
"What kind of danger?" Opal asked, her voice barely a whisper.
"The prophecy also says that the presence of quintuplet alphas will disrupt the balance among packs," Griffin explained. "Other alphas will see you as a threat. They'll fear what you represent, what you could do. And some may choose to attack, hoping to eliminate the threat before it grows."
Opal's stomach churned. "Do they know about us? About the prophecy?"
"Very few," Griffin said. "Your mother and I have kept it a secret. Even within our pack, only the Elders know the full truth. If word were to spread, it could bring chaos."
"Why tell us now?" Opal asked, her voice trembling. "Why not wait?"
"Because you need to understand the importance of working together," Griffin said, his tone firm. "Your bond is your greatest strength. The prophecy doesn't speak of one alpha—it speaks of all five of you. Each of you carries alpha blood, and together, you're stronger than any single wolf could ever be."
Opal swallowed hard, her thoughts swirling. "But what if we can't? What if… what if we're not strong enough?"
Griffin turned to her, his gaze piercing. "You are. I've seen it in you, in all of you. But strength isn't just physical. It's in your bond, your trust in each other. That's what will make you unstoppable."
They sat in silence for a while, the weight of the prophecy settling over them like a shroud. Finally, Opal spoke, her voice quiet but determined.
"If it's the Moon Goddess's plan, then we'll face it. Together."
Griffin smiled faintly, pride flickering in his eyes. "That's all I can ask of you."
Griffin leaned back in his chair, folding his hands together. "You know, there was a time when witches and wolves lived in harmony."
Opal blinked. "Seriously?"
He nodded slowly. "Not all witches were enemies. Long before you were born—before even Alpha Dorian wore the title—there was one in particular. Her name was Selene."
The fire crackled louder, as if the flames recognized the name.
"She was quiet," Griffin said. "Strange. Didn't speak much. But her magic was old. Pure. She lived in the northern woods, just beyond the river cliffs. Never interfered unless we asked—but when we needed her, she always came."
Opal leaned forward. "What did she do?"
"She healed," Griffin said. "Not just bodies. She mended things we thought were broken forever—our sick, our crops, even fractured alliances. She never asked for anything in return. Just that we honor the balance."
"What happened to her?"
Griffin's gaze darkened.
"One day, she vanished. No sign. No goodbye. Just… gone. Some said she left this realm. Others whispered that a darker magic came looking for her, and she sacrificed herself to keep it away."
He looked into the fire.
"I saw her once," he said quietly. "I was sixteen. Injured during a rogue ambush. She touched my chest—right here—" he tapped just over his heart "—and I felt warmth I'd never known. Not just healing. Like she saw all of me. The rage, the fear, the hope. And she didn't turn away. She saved me."
Opal stared at him, goosebumps prickling her skin.
"But not all witches are Selene," Griffin said, his voice sharp again. "The one watching you and your brothers now is not made of light. She is ancient. Hungry. Cunning."
"Azeala," Opal said.
Griffin nodded. "She doesn't want balance. She wants possession. She steals souls. Devours them. Leaves nothing behind but echoes and bones."
A silence settled between them.
Opal met his eyes. "I'm not Selene. I won't leave you or this pack."
"No," he said. "You're not. But you have something she didn't."
"What?"
Griffin smiled faintly. "Us. Your brothers who would die for you. Opal, you are destined for so much more than you realize."
He stood and walked around the desk, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder. "You are not alone in this, Opal. But you must not be naïve. Some witches may come in peace. Others wear peace like a mask."
She nodded slowly, her throat tight.
"Trust your instincts," he said. "And if they whisper 'run,' you listen."
She looked up at him. "What if they whisper 'fight'?"
His silver eyes gleamed. "Then you burn the world, child. And we burn it with you."
As the moon continued its journey across the sky, father and daughter sat together, their shared understanding forging a new bond between them. The road ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear: the quintuplets were destined for something greater than any of them could have imagined.
Opal nodded, but before she stood to leave, Griffin glanced up again.
"Oh—if you see Forrest, send him to me."
Opal paused halfway to the door and turned with a brow raised. "Is he in trouble?"
Griffin gave her a long, flat look.
"...Don't answer that," she said, lips twitching. "Honestly, he's probably out lighting something on fire for an incredibly important reason. Like proving gravity is a conspiracy."
Griffin sighed the way only a man who'd raised five children could sigh—eternally tired but still deeply fond. "Moon Goddess help whoever ends up mated to that boy. She'll need patience. And fireproof walls."
Opal laughed, pressing a hand to her chest. "Do we even have enough silver to pay someone that brave?"
Griffin cracked a smile, rare but real. "We might have to build her a statue."
"A shrine," Opal offered. "With candles and warnings."
They shared a brief moment of laughter—soft, warm, genuine.
But then, as the fire popped again behind them, Alpha Griffin's face returned to the quiet focus of a man watching shadows crawl closer.
"Keep your eyes open, Opal," he said gently. "There's a storm coming. But storms don't scare me. Not when I know you're standing in it."
She swallowed hard, pride and fear mingling inside her like heat and rain.
"I won't let you down," she said.
Griffin's expression softened. "You won't have to. You're not standing alone."
With that, she nodded and slipped out the door, the sound of the fire fading behind her as the weight of her future settled on her shoulders again—heavier than ever, but no longer unbearable.