Sally's father, Robert, stood outside, his posture rigid with nervous energy, the cool night air clinging to his skin like leather. He adjusted the hem of his jacket for the third time, his fingers trembling slightly.
The rumble of the sleek black car's engine had barely died when the back door opened with a deliberate, measured grace.
Alpha Prince Caspian stepped out.
He was a vision of power wrapped in impeccable elegance. His tall frame seemed carved from stone, the sharp lines of his suit tailored to perfection, accentuating his broad shoulders and lean build.
His black hair gleamed under the moonlight, slicked back with a precision that seemed effortless, though every detail about him screamed control.
His face was almost too handsome to look at directly, angular cheekbones, a strong jaw, and lips was set in a neutral line that hinted at authority rather than kindness.
But it was his eyes that struck the hardest: dark piercing red, like blood on a black sheet, holding a predatory glint that made men avert their gaze and women's breaths catch.
Though his movements were graceful, almost human, there was no mistaking what he was.
A werewolf. The alpha prince of the only pack in Picmeria.
Everyone knew his name. Everyone knew his power.
"Welcome to our humble abode, Alpha Prince Caspian," Robert said, his voice thick with deference.
He offered a shallow bow, his head lowered just enough to show respect without appearing groveling.
Caspian didn't speak, his silence more commanding than words.
He inclined his head ever so slightly, a gesture that might have been acknowledgment or dismissal.
Behind him, two towering figures stepped forward from the shadows, the prince's brothers.
They were equally formidable, dressed in dark suits that whispered of wealth and strength.
Yet, they lingered near the car, their presence a silent promise of protection as Caspian followed Robert inside.
The older man cleared his throat, gesturing toward the house with a nervous smile. "Please, this way. My wife and daughter are eagerly awaiting your presence."
The alpha prince's steps were deliberate, his polished shoes barely making a sound against the gravel.
As he moved, the night seemed to bend around him, its quiet stillness crackling with an unspoken tension.
Even the breeze stilled, as if afraid to disturb him.
Robert pushed the door open and let the alpha prince step inside first.
Caspian took a deep breath, he couldn't believe it was time.
Inside, the warm glow of the house beckoned, a stark contrast to the cold, enigmatic aura of the man now stepping through its doors.
The night was still young, its air thick with possibilities and the weight of what might come.
——
In Picmeria, the seat of power was firmly held by the werewolves, a regal lineage that ruled with wealth, strength, and dominance.
At the head of this hierarchy stood the Lord Alpha, a fearsome leader with five sons, all heirs to the legacy of the only werewolf pack in the region.
Each of these sons held the right to choose a mate under the light of the full moon, a ritual steeped in both tradition and strategic purpose.
Every last full moon of every year, the air in Picmeria buzzed with anticipation.
Girls of age adorned themselves in their finest dresses, hair coiled in intricate styles, their faces glowing with the hope of catching the eye of one of the alpha princes.
Parents, driven by ambition and the lure of power, anxiously prepared their daughters, praying to see them picked as brides by the ruling family.
A match to one of the alpha's sons meant security, prestige, and influence that would elevate any human family to the heights of Picmerian society.
This night, marked the second prince's turn to seek his bride. Alpha Prince Caspian, the second in line, was as enigmatic as he was intimidating.
Known for his silence and his calculating ruby eyes, he was a man who chose with precision.
Unlike his older brother, Tristan, who had already taken a bride last year, Caspian showed no signs of sentimental inclinations.
Yet this only added to the allure, every girl in Picmeria fantasized about taming the untamable alpha prince.
However, the tradition of simply selecting any bride had changed in recent years. The werewolves had begun to marry humans.
Once, their pack thrived with strong wolf women, but tragedy struck when wolf hunters descended upon their mountains, burning a hundred wolf women alive in a single night.
The loss devastated the pack, leaving them bereft of mates and forcing them to forge alliances with humans.
What had once been a taboo now became a necessity?
They would marry human women.
By marrying humans, the werewolves not only aimed to repopulate their ranks but also to strengthen ties with the human townsfolk, increasing their influence and ensuring their survival in a changing world.
After all werewolf hunters generate amongst humans.
The town of Picmeria itself was nestled close to the mountains, its cobbled streets winded between towering pines that stretched toward the heavens.
And they're mountains stood as silent witnesses to the town's history, their snowy peaks guarding secrets both ancient and cruel.
By day, the town bustled with life, traders in the market square, children playing in the fields, but by night, under the watchful moon, the people whispered of werewolves.
For this full moon, all eyes were on Alpha Prince Caspian.
As the chosen prince for the month, he would walk among them, surveying the girls who had gathered or waiting in their homes, waiting for his gaze to linger, for his nod of approval that could change a life forever.
The night was still ahead, and for some, it promised the fulfillment of dreams.
For others, it whispered of heartbreak and the reminder of their place in the delicate hierarchy of Picmeria's society.