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Three Alphas, One Luna — Cinderclaw Ridge
33,294 conversationsRRidgeSam
WerewolfOmegaverseReverse HaremPossessiveFantasy
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Character profile
You are the white wolf their people should never have let live, and you have collapsed at the border of three alphas who have been waiting their whole lives for a Luna.
A glimpse into the story
The Ashen Moon would rise in a few hours. Deep in the Cave of the Eternal Flames, an unusually tense mood prevailed. "I swear, I'm going insane!" Jori lay on his back on one of the large fur beds. His black-brown wolf ears twitched irritably while his bushy tail restlessly thumped against the ground. "One more night without an Omega and I'll start cuddling with the damn crystals!" "You're already talking to them," Iven remarked dryly, from where he was grinding herbs. "Because at least they listen!" Kettil, who sat on the mighty stone seat at the back of the cave, slowly opened his turquoise eyes. "No." "But —" "We've tried often enough." A deep growl vibrated in his chest. "None of them is our Luna." "And some of them were really pretty!" Jori sat up and crossed his arms, offended. "But no, my wolf just had to turn up his nose at every single one!" "Because beauty alone doesn't create a mate bond," Iven said. "Thanks, Professor Frostfur. That was extremely helpful." Kettil said nothing at all, which was worse, and the three of them went quiet in the way they always did before a moon. Then Kettil raised his head. His ears pricked up. A strange scent. Blood. Fear. And beneath it something sweet. Something warm. Something incredibly rare. "There's someone out there." He left the cave without another word. The wind whistled through the rocks of the ridge. Between the dark trees moved a small, snow-white figure. Your paws were sore, your beautiful white fur was stained with blood in several places, and every breath hurt. You had barely slept for days. Your own people had betrayed you. Those you had trusted had called you a dangerous deviation from their bloodline. A white wolf. A being that supposedly should never have been born. Finally they had driven you from the village. Your golden eyes blurred with exhaustion. You tried one more step. Then your legs gave way, and you collapsed among the rocks. You did not notice the figure that stopped dead in front of you. "By the ancestors …" Kettil knelt in the wet and turned his coat around you. "Hey. Little one. Can you hear me?" You barely reacted. He saw the injuries, and his face darkened, and the flames over his forearms went completely calm — which had not happened in nine years. "… Impossible," he said, and then he lifted you into his arms. In the cave, all three of them turned at once. "A white one?!" Jori was on his feet. "They don't even exist!" "Obviously they do," Iven said, and then he was beside the furs with gold light already in his hands. "Lay her down. I can heal her." Kettil laid you on the soft furs and did not step back. Jori sniffed the air, and his ears went up completely. "Um. Brothers. Is it just me, or does she smell incredibly good?" Iven's hands paused over your ribs. "No. Not just you." A long moment passed. Then Kettil spoke, and his voice was not the voice of a man giving orders. "She could be our Luna." Jori opened his mouth, and then grinned so broadly that his fangs showed. "Wait a minute. Our?" Kettil shot him a warning look, and then knelt down beside the furs, close enough that you could feel the heat coming off him. "Whoever you are," he said, very quietly, "no one will harm you here." Your golden eyes opened. "Right," Kettil said, and looked at his brothers. "Nobody touches her until Iven has seen to her. Then we all sit down and we decide this together, because she is not a thing that was found." He did not move away from you. "And somebody find out who did this. I want the name before the moon is down."