Chapter 5 THE ALLIANCE

The wilderness beyond the Crimson peake borders was very vast . Mountains that were so big and tall you would think they were touching the skin, forests so dense that sunlight could barely enter inside.

Somewhere deep in that wilderness, Marcus stone sta before a dying fire, his once golden eyes and handsome face dull from running, beards thick and unkept from days of not shaving it.

That was the least of his agendas right now.

Ash staineed his hands as he fed the flames with the lady batch of bark he had with him.

He stared at the fire and somehow he was reminded of the battle that had ended everything.

Once he had been future Alpha, the man that brought people's heads down whenever they saw him.

Now ,he was a nobody, a ghost exciled by decree , with a tag of traitor, and stripped of all the titles he had built alongside Her.

Aurora!.

Her name alone made his jaw clench.

She was the reason behind his every success, every deal that was closed successfully, every argument that was resolved amicably. Even the stars of admiration that was given to him by everyone, it was because she had decided to stand by his side.

Until she wasn’t.

Marcus stood up abruptly,the fire flaring due to his movement. His hand moved out, taking a half empty bottle of whiskey as he moved into the trees.

“She thinks she can take my pack,” he muttered, pacing. “My name. My father’s legacy.”

A low growl rumbled in his chest. “She doesn’t understand who she’s dealing with.”

He turned eastward, towards the faint glimmer of moonlight where the Crimson Moon pack lay miles away.

He smiled bitterly. He could almost picture her standing on the platform, basking in the praises of the crowd, pretending she hadn't used his downfall to rise .

She'll regret all her actions. She will.

Marcus was never born to accept defeat. He had built power once. He would build it again . And this time it would be forged in blood.

By the third week of being exiled, he had made contacts.

At a hidden outpost close to the border, two men waited for him by an abandoned watchtower.

Both wore the robes they used to wear as his old guards, But there was a symbol on their robes.

Insignias that showed they were old guards of an exiled Alpha to be.

“Alpha!” One of them exclaimed, bowing. “ We actually thought you were dead.”

Marcus lips curled. “Not yet.”

The other guard, stepped forward.

“Alpha,” one of the guards named Cole said. “ I don't think you should be here. If the council finds out..”

“They won't,” Marcus interrupted, raising his hand for emphasis.

“I know how to move unannounced.”

“Do you?” He asked, looking at both of them.

Cole looked up a little at him before speaking.

“We're loyal to you Alpha . But things have changed. They're not like the way they are anymore. The pack rallied behind the Luna.”

Marcus eyes flashed angrily. “Behind her?”

“Yes,” Cole replied.

“She's strong.Strategic. And Even Jaxson is backing her. Some people even believe that shes blessed by the moon.”

Marcus laughed ; sharp and coid of humour. “Blessed you say?,” he asked.

“She's just cunning,that's all . She waited for me to fall and she stepped into my shadow.”

He moved towrds them, the scent of dominance rolling off of him in waves.

“Tell me something, Cole. Do you hear the pack members whispering her name in fear; or in doubt?” He asked.

Cole exchanged a quick glance with the other men. “There are …doubts, Alpha.” Cole admitted.

“Some say she rose too fast. That her strength isn't normal. Others think she might be using some form of witchcraft.”

Marcus smile widened. “That's good. Let them doubt. Fear and doubt are the main things that tear an empire down.”

He bent down near the ashes of the old fire they had made, drawing a rough map in the dirt. “I need eyes inside the. Reports , schedules , and most importantly, weak spots. I want to know who's loyalty lies with her , who hesitates and who wishes that things were the way they are.”

Cole swallowed. “ You're planning something.”

“I’m building something,” Marcus corrected. “A new alliance.”

Over the next month, his tiny network began to grow. Rogues, mercenaries, soldiers who had lost promotions under Aurora's reign , came to him one by one , many drawn by promise ,some drawn by vengeance and few drawn by a familiar face.

Marcus became a shadow alpha, no longer ruling with a throne but ruling from the background with whispers and campfires . The wilderness was now his fort and palace .

He sent messages through hidden couriers, smuggle notes that were disguised as trade manifest, encrypted in the language of hunters. His name began to resurface but In hushed conversations.

The fallen Alpha , rightful heir , a storm , an alliance waiting for the right time to strike .

And in the weeks that followed, the anger that was burning within him began to morph into something sharper; purpose.

He would spend hours training, pushing his body until his muscles trembled. He would hunt at dawn , train at dusk and plot at night . Every drop of sweat he shed outside of the Crimson pack was a vow .

Yet even beneath all the rage and anger he felt, there was an unsettling emotion, the humiliation of losing to the woman he once thought he owned.

He could still remember that night in their room; the defiance in her eyes. She hadn't shed a single tear . She didn't even beg. She had looked at him like she had already worn.

That look haunted him till this very day.

By the early winter season, Marcus’s growing camp began drawing the attention of outsiders.

One evening, a cloaked stranger moved towards the fire he had made. Two guards immediately intercepted him. But Marcus gave them a signal.

“Let him through.”

The stranger bowed slightly. “Alpha Marcus Stone,” he greeted , voice smooth as oil. “I come bearing greetings form the Night fall park .”

At the name of the park, the guards tensed. Night fall park was a known pack full of rogue wolves and dangerous assassin's who lived beyond the laws of the council.

Marcus smirked. “ I didn't know that the Nightfall pack could send greetings. If my memory serves me right. You usually send corpses.”

The stranger smiled in return . “Only to those we dislike, Alpha . Fortunately for you. My Alpha is quite… intrigued

“By what?”

“By opportunity.” The stranger stepped closer, his eyes gleaming crimson in the firelight. “Crimson Moon grows restless under new leadership. Many suspect weakness. Nightfall believes alliances can be—restructured.”

Marcus studied him. “And what do you want in return?”

The stranger tilted his head. “Information. Routes. Access. We both want the same thing—the fall of Aurora Thorn.”

Marcus laughed softly. “ Then you'll have it. I know every secret corridor in that fortress, every dark spot in their patrols. I built their defenses , and I can unmake them.”

The stranger’s grin widened. “Then perhaps exile isn’t the end of your story, Alpha Stone. Perhaps it’s merely… rebirth.”

They shook hands. Marcus could feel it; a spark of new shared intent and alliance; cold, ruthless and patient .

When the stranger disappeared into his forest later, Marcus summoned his men.

“We strike when the moon wanes,” he said. “By the time the next full moon rises, Crimson Moon will be begging for mercy.”

Days turned into weeks. Snow blanketed the wilderness in silence. Muffling sound of howls. Inside Marcus camp, plans were taking shape.

Maps were everywhere around his tent; territory charts, guard rotations , names of loyalists that may or may not be turned. Weak points in the pack’s borders. On a seperate parchment, he made a list titled ‘ faithless wolves.’ The first name at the top was Aurora Thorne.

He would catch himself on some days looking at that name for hours, a blank expression on his face.

One night, Cole entered Marcus tent quietly. “ We've intercepted messages from the Crimson Moon.” He reported.

“It seems the Luna had implemented new training protocols. Increased border patrols.”.

Marcus kept looking at his hands. “She's preparing for war.”

“Do you think she suspects…”

“ Of course she does.” Marcus answered , cutting him off.

“Aurora has always had a wildfire instinct. But that instinct won't save her this time around.”

He drank from the bottle beside him . His voice was steady, low and lethal. “Let her keep buildinghigher walls. It would only make the fall louder .”

Rylan hesitated. “And Jaxson Thorn?”

Marcus’s grip tightened around the glass until it cracked. “He’ll die last.”

Later that night when the camp had grown quiet, Marcus stepped outside the tent. The moon was rising; big and white against the black sky.

He lifted his face to it, the cold biting his skin, and closed his eyes.

Once, I belonged to you too, he thought bitterly. Once, I led under your blessing.

But no light answered him now. Only the darkness did.

He inhaled deeply, scenting the wind. Pine. Smoke. And something else—something old and sharp, laced with faint magic. The presence of Aurora.

He could still feel her through the bond that hadn’t fully broken, a thread stretched thin across distance and hate. When he focused, he could almost taste her emotions—resolve, exhaustion, sorrow. She was adapting faster than he expected.

“She thinks she’s won,” he murmured. “She thinks she’s untouchable.”

His claws extended, slicing through the frost coating the nearby tree. “Let her. The best way to destroy a queen is to let her believe her crown is safe.”

At dawn, his scouts returned with new intelligence.

“Nightfall has begun moving,” Cole reported. “Their Alpha agreed to a preliminary alliance. They’ll supply manpower if we provide access to Crimson Moon’s northern pass.”

Marcus nodded. “Good. The northern pass is poorly guarded this time of year. Snowdrifts block half the routes—Aurora won’t expect an approach from there.”

Cole hesitated. “This means trusting rogues. Nightfall is dangerous, unpredictable.”

“So am I,” Marcus said quietly.

He turned his gaze toward the mountains, where the first rays of sunlight caught the peaks in pale gold. “Tell them to prepare. When the thaw comes, we move.”

That night, alone in his tent, Marcus sat by the dying fire again. The silence pressed heavy around him. For the first time in weeks, exhaustion crept in—not physical, but hollow, echoing through his bones.

He reached for a folded scrap of parchment in his coat pocket. A letter—creased, faded, the ink smudged from years of handling.

It was Aurora’s handwriting.

He’d found it the day she’d left him, hidden among her things.

‘Marcus, it began, there was a time I would have given you everything. Then I realized you wanted me to be nothing. I won’t disappear for you again.’

He read it until the words blurred. Then he tossed it into the fire.

The flames devoured it hungrily, curling the edges into ash. He watched until it was gone, then whispered, “Disappear for me or die by me. Either way, you’ll be mine again.”

The wind outside howled, carrying the echo of wolves across the valley—Crimson Moon’s patrols, loyal to his usurper. His jaw tightened.

“Enjoy your peace, Aurora,” he murmured. “When I return, I’ll bring your kingdom down stone by stone.”

He blew out the candle, leaving only the embers’ faint red glow.

In the darkness, the shadow of Marcus Stone smiled.