Chapter 1 - Articus

Articus White made a beeline for his friends as he entered the Full Moon bar that night.

The pressure from the elders to produce an heir still echoed in his ears. It was a constant refrain, growing louder with each passing day. Articus felt the weight of expectation pressing down on him, threatening to suffocate his own desires and plans.

As if it's that simple. As if I can just snap my fingers and produce one.

The impending trip to see his cousin Cassius also weighed heavily on his mind, a reminder of other duties he'd rather forget.

Sigh.

The scent of pine and hops washed over him as he approached the corner table where his fellow Alphas sat. Their faces were a mix of surprise and concern, no doubt picking up on his tense mood.

Another night, another gathering.

"Articus!" Rowan called out, raising his glass in greeting. "We were just talking about you. Didn't think you'd grace us with your presence tonight."

Articus slid into an empty chair, his blue eyes scanning the group. "Yeah, well, I needed a drink. Or ten. I have a lot on my mind," he admitted, running a hand through his white hair.

Blake leaned forward, his auburn hair catching the dim bar light. "Trouble in paradise? Don't tell me the elders are still on your case about—"

"An heir?" Articus cut him off, his voice low. "Yeah, they are. But that's not even the half of it."

The table fell silent, each Alpha sensing there was more to the story. Articus took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead.

"I got a call today," he said, his fingers drumming nervously on the table. "From the Annex pack."

The reaction was immediate. Rowan's eyes darkened, Fannar's icy gaze sharpened, while Callahan's usual sunny demeanor dimmed. Even Xander, normally brooding and quiet, leaned in with interest.

"The Annex pack?" Asher's voice was barely above a whisper. "But they never reach out unless—"

"Unless there's a change in leadership," Articus finished for him. "Yeah. It’s time for a new Alpha to take over."

Blake, with his easygoing smile, raised an eyebrow. "The Annex pack? That’s quite the trek."

"It's a very important trek," Articus explained, rubbing the back of his neck. "The tradition is that the main pack sends a representative when there's a change in leadership over there."

Xander, leaning back in his chair, crossed his arms. "That tradition is a relic. Why does it still matter so much?"

Articus nodded. "It’s not just about tradition. The Annex pack was created to manage rogues and keep the peace between the two sides of the mountain. It’s crucial to maintain that balance. Our presence during the change of leadership shows our commitment to the stability between the packs."

Callahan, ever the warm-hearted one, chimed in, "And you’re the one who has to go because you’re the Alpha now?"

"Exactly, sometimes the heir goes, but unless I have Xander's luck, I don't have one," Articus said, a hint of frustration in his voice.

"It's my duty as the Alpha of the White Moon pack. I need to be there to ensure a smooth transition. It’s more than just showing up; it’s about reinforcing the bond between us and them."

The implications hung heavy in the air. Each of them knew what this meant, the weight of history, and the responsibility that came with it.

"So you have to go," Blake said, his diplomatic mind already spinning. "To oversee the transition."

Articus nodded, feeling the weight of his pack's legacy pressing down on him. "I leave in three days. And let me tell you, the timing couldn't be worse. And the elders continue to push for an heir," he said, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. "With everything happening with the Annex pack... it's just a lot to handle."

The atmosphere around the table shifted, a mix of understanding and curiosity settling over the group.

Fannar, ever the logical one, spoke up again. "I feel you, Articus, about the Annex Pack. But about an heir, I don't think it is an unreasonable request, considering our positions." His icy eyes fixed on Articus, analytical and unwavering.

Articus felt a flare of irritation. "Easy for you to say," he retorted. "You've all got your lives sorted out. I'm the only one still flying solo here."

A round of chuckles rippled through the group, and Asher raised an eyebrow. "Is that what's really bothering you? Being the last lone wolf standing?"

"Come on, Art," Rowan chimed in, a teasing glint in his eye. "We can't help it if we're more irresistible than you."

Articus rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips. "Please, I could have my pick if I wanted. I'm just... selective."

"Selective?" Xander snorted, breaking his usual brooding silence. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

"Hey, watch it," Articus shot back. "You only left the singles club recently. You shouldn't be talking."

Xander's eyes flashed with amusement. "Excuse me, but in case you need reminding, my child is the oldest. They say the patient dog eats the fattest bone. It appears I am the ‘fabled’ dog since I got a mate and heir in one move, so what does that say about you?"

Everyone laughed as the server brought over another round of drinks. Articus took a long gulp, hoping to drown out the unrelenting voice of the elders. The bar's dim light flickered, casting shadows across his face, mirroring the turmoil within him.

The table fell silent for a moment, with each Alpha lost in their own thoughts. Articus knew he'd have to explain everything soon, but for now, he was content to let the conversation flow naturally.

Blake, ever the peacekeeper, steered the discussion in a new direction. "Speaking of family situations, how's everyone doing? Callahan, I heard your little one just started shifting?"

Callahan's face lit up with pride. "Oh man, you should see him! He’s got this beautiful golden coat, just like his old man. It scared the living daylights out of us the first time, though. Thought he was having a seizure or something."

The group laughed, and Articus felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. This was why he loved these gatherings—the easy camaraderie, the shared experiences of leadership and pack life.

"What about you, Rowan?" Fannar asked. "How's the tech empire treating you these days?"

Rowan grinned, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "It's booming, actually. We've just launched a new app that's revolutionizing the way packs communicate across territories. You guys should check it out."

"Always the innovator," Asher remarked, a rare smile gracing his usually somber features. "Meanwhile, I'm still trying to convince my pack that email isn't witchcraft."

Another round of laughter echoed through the bar, drawing curious glances from other patrons. Articus looked around at his friends, a warmth spreading through his chest. Despite the weight of his responsibilities and the looming trip to the Annex Pack, he was grateful for these moments.

As the conversation continued, touching on Blake's diplomatic efforts to maintain pack unity and Fannar's latest expedition into the frozen peaks, Articus found himself relaxing. The worries about heirs and elders' expectations faded into the background, replaced by the comfort of friendship and shared experiences.

But he knew he couldn't avoid the topic forever. Taking a deep breath, Articus cleared his throat, drawing the attention of his fellow Alphas.

"Listen, guys," he began, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "There's something I need to tell you about. It's about the Annex pack. They aren’t just another pack. It’s a legacy from a time when things were... different.”

A heavy silence fell over the group. They all knew the history and the reasons behind the Annex Pack's existence, but it was rarely discussed. It was a part of their past that they preferred to keep in the shadows.

"The Annex pack," Callahan murmured, his usual cheerfulness subdued. "It's been years since any of us have even mentioned them."

Articus nodded, feeling the weight of history pressing down on him. "I know. But I think it's time we talked about it. About why they're there and what it means for all of us."

He took a deep breath, preparing to delve into a story that stretched back generations. "Long ago, before any of us were born, our packs faced a problem. Rogues—wolves who had broken pack law or turned feral—were becoming a growing threat. The decision was made to banish them, to send them over the mountains to what we called 'the Dark Side'."

The others listened intently, even though they knew parts of this history. It was different hearing it now, as adults, as Alphas responsible for their own packs. Articus knew more than the rest of them since his pack was in charge of keeping the rogues out.

"The Dark Side of the mountain," Asher mused, his black eyes reflecting the dim light of the bar. "Where the sun doesn't shine. A fitting place for the outcasts. Harsh, snowy, cold, and isolated. So, the Dark Side of the mountain still serves its purpose. What’s the impact of having an Alpha over there?""

"Well, at first, it was just a place to send the rogues, to keep them away from our territories,” Articus continued, his voice low but steady. “But as time went on, their numbers grew. They became more organized and more dangerous. That's when my ancestors made a decision that would change everything."

He paused, looking around at his friends. Their faces were a mix of curiosity and apprehension, knowing that this story was leading to something significant.

"My pack, the White Moon, has always lived on the border of the mountains. We were the first line of defense against any threats from the Dark Side. But it wasn't enough. The rogues were getting bolder, finding ways to slip past our defenses."

Rowan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and Articus felt a pang of guilt. He knew this part of the story touched on a painful memory for his friend.

I wish it didn’t happen to you, my friend.

"So, my great-great-grandfather made a choice. He sent his second son, along with a group of our strongest warriors, over the mountain. Not as exiles but as guardians. They formed what we now call the Annex pack."

The revelation hung in the air, each Alpha processing what this meant. It was a part of their shared history that had been glossed over, simplified in the stories they'd been told as pups.

"So the Annex Pack," Fannar said slowly, his logical mind piecing things together, "they're not rogues themselves, but descendants of your family? Guardians on the other side?"

Articus nodded. "Exactly. They're the second line of defense, keeping the rogues in check on their side of the mountain. Over time, they've developed their own culture, their own way of life. But they're still connected to us—to my pack specifically."

"And now you have to go there," Blake said, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Because there's been a change in leadership."

"Yes," Articus confirmed. "My cousin, Cassius—well, cousin many times removed at this point—is taking over as Alpha. His father passed away recently, and as the Alpha of the main pack, it's my responsibility to oversee the transition."

The group fell silent again, each lost in their own thoughts. Articus could see them processing this information, reconciling it with what they'd always believed about the world beyond their territories.

The fact that they knew so little about it meant the White Moon and Annex packs were doing their jobs properly with the rest able to rest. Although that one error, that blight on their history remained.

Finally, Rowan spoke up, his voice quiet but steady. "This rogue... the one that came through years ago..." He didn't need to finish the sentence. They all knew what he was referring to.

Articus felt a wave of shame and regret wash over him. "I'm so sorry, Rowan. It was a failure on our part, on my pack's part. We should have stopped it before it ever reached your territory."

Rowan shook his head, a sad smile on his face. "It's not your fault, Art. We've been over this. Rogues are unpredictable, and even the best defenses can fail sometimes."

The others murmured in agreement, but Articus could still feel the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. It was moments like these that reminded him of the true burden of being an Alpha—not just leading a pack, but being accountable for their safety and the safety of others.

Articus’s pack possessed unique abilities that set them apart. Their wolves, with their striking white coats and piercing blue eyes, were not only symbols of their purity but also had specialized skills suited for their role.

They could navigate the treacherous terrains of the divide with ease, their senses finely tuned to detect any disturbances or breaches. This heightened perception was crucial for identifying any rogue threats before they could cause harm.

The pack’s primary responsibility was to maintain the boundary, ensuring that no rogue or unwelcome entity crossed from the Dark Side to the light side of the mountain. They patrolled the borders constantly, their vigilance a constant reminder of the delicate balance they were sworn to protect.

This duty was particularly important because of the rogue history associated with the Dark Side of the mountain. Rogues, once banished, often harbored deep-seated grudges and could be incredibly dangerous.

The divide itself was a natural barrier, marked by its rugged terrain and harsh weather. Snow and ice cloaked the Dark Side, making it a formidable landscape. Yet, it was the White Moon pack’s role to not only monitor but also to engage directly if any rogue managed to slip past the natural defenses.

The tragic incident that had cemented their role as guardians was a stark reminder of the pack’s significance. Years ago, a rogue had breached their defenses and crossed into Rowan’s territory, leading to a devastating attack.

The rogue’s actions had resulted in the death of Rowan’s parents, a loss that had rippled through the packs and underscored the gravity of the White Moon Pack’s duty.

This incident had a profound effect on the pack dynamics. Articus, as the leader, had always felt the weight of that failure deeply. Despite the rigorous training and vigilance of his pack, the breach had exposed a flaw in their defenses, leading to the death of innocents.

Articus’s feelings about the incident were complex. On one hand, there was a deep-seated regret over the loss of life and the impact it had on Rowan and his pack. On the other hand, there was a fierce determination to prevent such a tragedy from happening again.

This duality drove Articus to push his pack to their limits, ensuring they were always prepared for the unexpected.

Never again,

"So what happens now?" Callahan asked, breaking the somber mood. "You go to this Annex Pack, oversee the change of leadership, and then what?"

Articus shrugged, feeling the uncertainty of the situation. "I'm not entirely sure. It's been years since I've been there—not since I was a pup, really. I know things have changed, but I don't know how much."

"Will you be safe?" Asher asked, his normally stoic face showing a hint of concern.

"I should be," Articus assured them. "They're still family, after all. Distant family, but family nonetheless. And they respect the old traditions."

Blake leaned forward, his diplomatic instincts kicking in. "This could be an opportunity, you know. To strengthen ties, maybe even improve communication between our side and theirs."

Articus nodded thoughtfully. "That's what I'm hoping for. It's been too long since we've had any real contact. Maybe it's time to change that."

His friends nodded in understanding, their expressions a mix of empathy and encouragement. Rowan, who had been listening intently, placed a reassuring hand on Articus’s shoulder. “You’re doing more than just attending a ceremony. You’re upholding a legacy and showing your commitment to the pack’s traditions. That’s something to be proud of.”

Articus offered a grateful smile, feeling a sense of relief from the support of his friends, especially Rowan's. The upcoming trip would be challenging, but knowing that his friends believed in him made the task seem a bit more manageable.

As the night wore on and the conversation drifted to lighter topics, Articus found himself lost in thought. The upcoming journey to the Annex pack loomed large in his mind, bringing with it a swirl of emotions and responsibilities.

He thought about Cassius, the cousin he barely knew, now stepping into the role of Alpha. What challenges would he face, leading a pack that straddled two worlds? And what would it mean for the future of both their packs?

The pressure from the elders to produce an heir suddenly seemed trivial in comparison to the weight of this responsibility. Yet Articus knew it was all connected, the continuity of leadership, the preservation of their traditions, and the protection of their people.