I let out a low breath, trying my hardest to absorb the information I just read.

There had been an obvious time between the last two journal entries. Not only was the ink scarcer, but the writing was uneven, and more italicised. He was rushing, or full of emotion, and judging by the entry, I'd say the latter.

His arranged mate-ship had up and left, and from then on, he set up his plans to get his mate. I wonder why he was suddenly adamant about getting his mate after so many years. He said he was angry; had his wolf finally snapped? Was his arranged mate running away, the push he needed?

Why did she run without telling him anything?

Did Asra know the true story? Did he know his brother was not his full blood?

A slight tension pulsated behind my eyes, and I pinched the bridge of my nose in effect. This was a lot to handle, and the more I read, the more unhinged his beast felt.

He found Serena, and true to Asra's belief, she stubbornly refused to leave her parents. His entry was brief, describing his torment and his lust to have her by his side. But then it changed, and the last line was a complete switch of emotion.

'She was worth waiting for.'

Why?

Why would he say that when, just three pages ago, he was adamant about dragging her to his pack house?

Turning the page, I faltered when I found the entire layout had changed. Where each page had been pretty or written in haste, there was always a star somewhere on the page. However, this time, the writing was more square, with a longer sentence structure.

He must've got his thoughts together here. Less choppy and more well-planned.

'I finally have her.

It has been a while.

My mate is finally mine, but it was difficult.

My mate is not as gentle as she seems. The Italian blood in her veins shines through. She is proud and stubborn, but passionate and dedicated. For her to even bear my mark, she made me deal with her.

It was as feisty as it was enthralling.

So, I caved in, because having my mate was all I cared about.

And now she carries my pup.

It was a love I never felt before. My dear son Azriel, I love, but something is different this time. Perhaps it is because this is my mate, perhaps the bond is stronger.

She was near the end now, and like I said, it has been a while. An entire year has passed, and I thought this journal was long since gone.

But I am back because I have to be.

Because things are happening in places that they shouldn't be.

Wolves are conspiring again. They are planning experiments.

I am unsure what experiments, but I am not keen.

Although the council has since been abolished, the alphas still converse. Every prideful male has their contacts, and the rumour going around is they are setting up private civilisations. The idea is to raise half-bred children separately from humans, to see if the environment can strengthen them.

It was peculiar and downright absurd.

That is why I didn't believe it.

Separating half-breeds from their families would never happen. We as wolves cared too much about family to make them live apart. Family was what they found every pack on. Pack was family.

I needed to listen. I needed to find out what they were planning because I feared it was something greater than this. There are secrets within the houses of continents, and if walls could talk, I was certain ears would bleed.'

Secret civilisations?

This was... when Asra was not even born yet. Which meant it was some time thirty-four years ago. Evermore... I was certain Evermore was sixty-one years old, so the two couldn't possibly be linked. Unless Asra's father was just later to the rumour party.

Perhaps they already had their civilisations on the go, and perhaps Evermore was part of it.

I don't recall the entire history of Evermore, as my schooling stopped when I worked. They didn't teach you much as a youth, going into more detail in the high school. Arabella, however... She had entire three years more than me, surely she learnt something? I would have to speak to her.

I needed to, anyway, to get the details of her first few days at school.

Glancing at the time, I allowed myself a few more minutes before I would go seek my sister. School should finish soon.

'It has been nearly one hundred years since the Great War, and my how things have changed. I lived a happy life with my mate and my son, Asra. He was a powerful wolf, already shifted at such a young age. His fur was, as I feared however, a replica of his grandfather's. Di Capo's blood ran through his veins, and I knew that this world would never be big enough.

Shifting at only five was something that was unheard of, and so I concentrated all of my time on protecting him. I subdued his wolf with silver and hoped that he would not remember the brief occurrence of his beast. I would let it reappear at normal age, perhaps a little earlier to prove his dominance to the pack, but until then, we kept it secret.

Even his mother did not understand the genuine fear of her bloodline. I would have to tell her someday, to explain how she came to be.

But for now, we started the training. Asra was'

Asra was?

They had cut the script off. The once blocky, neater letters returned with the old scrawly script on the next line.

'Azriel had returned.

My eldest son was back.

He was fourteen and came to stake his alpha title.

Little did he realise; he did not carry the alpha blood. His mother must've not taught him the way of the alpha wolf. In the years that had passed since they ran away, I wondered what she had taught him. Apparently, his mother had passed, and with only my name, he came back to me.

I tried to be welcoming, but he was not the alpha, and the training sessions I controlled were more for young Asra than Azriel. He was shifty and quiet. Always frowning and guarded, he watched our sessions with a grimace.

A year after his return, the tension grew. I had weaned Asra from the silver, and his beast would soon shine. I feared what his brother may believe, but he did not carry the gene. His mother was not my true mate; therefore, he was not a true alpha.'

The next page.

'Asra's beast was as wicked as it once was.

Fur as dark as di Capo himself, his canines were sharp and his paws were huge. He was just a tween, at a mere ten years old, but his wolf was as large as some of the omega. The moment the pack saw him, I knew there would be questions.

It was time I told Serena who she was. She was quiet and subdue. The perfect luna counterpart to my beast. The pack did not know why she did not shift, still taking her silver tablets. Her beast may as well be dead. She may as well be a human, and to them, she was.

So, for her son to be such a grand beast with such dark, historical fur, was new.

But I could not hide it. He was an alpha pup, and not shifting would be a shame to my pack.

Azriel did not come to dinner that evening, and upon brief investigation, I found he had fled.

Like mother, like son.

A coward.

I turn my cheek. I dismiss him. A man too prideful to stand by and bow to his brother, his alpha. Too cowardice to stay around.

I wondered for the smallest of moments if I would see him again, but even so, I did not know the boy anymore. He would soon be a man with a mate of his own, and perhaps I would be a grandfather, but he may as well not be my brood.'

'Asra was strong, and training was easy. I brought out the big ones, and trained him like an older male, even bringing neighbouring warriors to train him, to spar with him.

Over the course of five years, his beast was magnificent. There were whispers of a beast so large, and I already had many alphas propose a visit. Once they met him, his power astonished them, and I puffed my chest with pride.

Serena was not pleased. She nervously nibbled on her nails as her only son battled with some of the neighbouring alphas. He would always be her child, and never a man. I had told her of her blood, and I saw in her eyes she did not want to believe me.

She would scoff, throwing her hands in the air before backhanding my shoulder. But then once she calmed down, she would go silent, peering down at the kitchen counter with a thousand thoughts. Her eyes shifted, narrowed slightly as she glanced at her son eating his breakfast.

Even without a beast, she still had some instincts, and she knew I was telling the truth. Because the same evening that I told her about her parent's demise, she refused to let Asra leave the house.

I had maidens coming to meet with him, the almost sixteen-year-old getting closer to finding his mate. My continental alpha has just lost his luna and son, and many packs were searching for a beast for their daughter to rule over us all.

It would be battle to the death, and Asra was the top contender. My naïve child, even as he sits reading a book, he did not know the power behind those hands of his. As a man, he would be great, he would be historical. If his mother didn't hold him back, of course.

Only time will tell.'

I turned the page and paused at what I saw.

Chaos.

Words were hastily written, with bloodied fingerprints and dried water droplets. I knew they were tears, and I knew these words would not be coherent. They crossed some out, others were bold. Others were backwards, and some were not even words at all. Numbers, words, blotches, blood...

It was eery.

The more I tried to make sense of the book, the more confusing I felt.

Words such as

Death.

Kill.

Blood.

Her.

Mine.

Gone.

Child.

Lost.

Alpha.

Attack.

Serena.

They wrote 'Serena' a lot. Her name crossed out, covered in dried blood or water drops.

I could only assume this was when she died.

I flipped the page and saw only a small paragraph left. Reading it, I felt saddened. My heart ached for him, and I sighed as my fingers ran down the last page of a broken man's thoughts.

'They found her. She was gone, and now I am too.'

He had so little time with her.

There was nothing else to this book, and despite the sad ending of the loss of his wife, it made me question why I was even holding this book.

What did this book teach me?

It was nothing about me, but more about Asra.

He was a powerful bloodline and, by the sounds of it, his father put a lot of pressure on his shoulders. His brother had run away, his mother murdered, and his father was heartbroken.

Most mates died after their counterpart's passing, so how was he still alive? I have never met the man, and Asra barely spoke of him.

Was he still around like the rumours said so?

Who put this book here?

Curious, I flickered through the last pages just to see if there was anything left.

Dull beige pages feathered past me and if I wasn't moving them so slowly, I would've never noticed a page with blank ink. I was searching for them, but I was now, and turned the last three pages back to where I saw the dark print of the script.

It was fresh. I was certain of it.

Touching the ink with my finger, it came away black. The ink was still sticky, smeared across the page beside it. Somebody had written this in a haste, and slammed the book closed before it was too late. I wouldn't have exactly cared if it wasn't for how this book came to me.

And also, how eerily similar this penmanship was to that of Asra's fathers.

It was simple.

A sentence as short as the one pages ago.

'Protect him. It is in your blood, Ailia.'