The Gift chronicles novel Chapter 2

Book 2 Prologue

When things had settled down, Ares has been immersed in the pain of losing her pup. Cain said he did not need an heir, but Ares knew how much he wanted to have his own pup.

But we know, time can help, making Ares better emerge from her shadows with Cain's love.

One morning after three months, a knock came to Cain's house.

"Thane?" Cain felt surprised as he saw him.

"I've got some information about Wilson's trail." Thane nodded.

"So you ready to go?" Cain raised his eyebrow.

"Yes, something must be solved, or else our pack will be in danger again." Said Thane.

"I should go with you, but you know, I swore to the Moon Goddess." Cain looked apologetically at Thane and patted him on the shoulder. "Anyway, take care. Recently we found the rouge's trail around the forests. I don't want you to get hurt."

Thane nodded, and he left the pack after three days.

What he did not know was that fate was waiting for him.

Onyx's pov

I killed my mother.

Inadvertently, of course. I'm not a monster.

My mother died shortly after giving birth to me. As per my Gift given to me by the Moon Goddess, I drained the life out of her as I took my first breath.

I was given the Gift of black magic. Magic meaning I can manipulate the physical world around me in various ways, black meaning that I have to drain energy from other life forms in order to have the power to make the magic work.

What should have been a blessing was a curse.

Not only did I drain the life out of my mother while she birthed me, but my father killed himself shortly after his mate perished.

My Gift didn't resurface for six more years after the death of my mother. At the time, my mother's death was attributed to natural causes. People die. It happens, and the rest of the pack moved on with their lives.

My grandmother assumed responsibility of me, and took care of me in our pack, Crimson Shadow. Six years after my cursed birth, I was playing with the Alpha's son, the future Alpha of Crimson Shadow, Killian.

We were playing tag, and I was it. He was fast, and as an unranked wolf, I was unable to keep up with him. I reached an arm out to him, willing for him to slow down.

I suddenly felt a huge influx of power. It ran through my blood like electricity, cackling, and begging to be exerted on to something.

My own fascination with the feeling was quickly replaced with fear as I heard the young Alpha to be cry out in pain. To my shock, his whole arm had blackened, and turned to dust right in front of my eyes.

I screamed, as did he.

Traumatic story short, the Alpha blamed me for his son's missing arm, and kicked me out of the pack, stating that I was too much of a hazard to be allowed around the pack members.

So, at six years old, I became a rogue. Luckily, my grandmother didn't hesitate to leave the pack with me, abandoning everything she had ever known.

That same grandmother, 10 years later, is currently on her deathbed.