Book 1 – The Lycan’s Curse A glimpse to the present past

In a remote and tranquil area, there lay a quaint little village, now reduced to ashes after being ravaged by strange and ferocious creatures. These monstrous beings slaughtered the innocent villagers without a trace of mercy, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake. Amidst the chaos, a mysterious man stood watching the horrifying scene unfold, trapped in his own helplessness, he simply lacked the power to combat such malevolent creatures.  As the creatures, resembling wolves yet moving with the eerie grace of humans, departed one by one, he patiently waited for them to flee.

Continuing his journey down a treacherous path, he encountered grotesque sights—the lifeless bodies of the villagers, their intestines spilled, faces unrecognizable due to their horrific fates. Each step weighed heavy on his heart until a piercing cry broke through the grim silence. Instinctively, he searched for the source and soon discovered a small cave not far from the smoldering ruins of the village. There, swaddled in delicate white cloth, lay a baby, cradled in the arms of a strikingly beautiful woman who had tragically succumbed to death.

Days later

As Blaze gazed upon the sleeping child, a wave of tenderness washed over him. He felt an overwhelming sense of compassion for this innocent soul.

“Blaze, how long will you nurse that baby? Are you considering adopting him? What’s his name?” Marco, his butler, inquired, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“Can you stop pretending you don’t know anything?” Blaze replied sharply, a serious expression settling on his face.

“I’m just kidding Blaze,” Marco said with a light chuckle.

“We know this was bound to happen anway,” Blaze said to which Marco nodded knowingly.

“I know.”

9 months later

As Blaze observed Alastair’s rapid growth—faster than most children—he felt a strange blend of nostalgia and wonder. It seemed like just yesterday that Alastair had needed assistance to walk, and now, after just nine months, he could already move about independently and run back and forth.

After 587 years of solitude, vivid nightmares of his tragic past haunted him: the deaths of his parents, his wife, and children, as well as his dear friends.

“Papa!” Alastair exclaimed, leaping into his arms. Blaze snapped out of his dark thoughts, a smile breaking through as Alastair’s innocent embrace filled him with warmth. It was as if years of sorrow had been momentarily lifted.

“Alastair, you need to eat now,” Blaze said gently, but the little boy shook his head defiantly.

“I want to play more,” Alastair insisted, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Alastair, don’t be so stubborn you haven’t eaten since earlier,” Blaze pressed, his tone firm yet caring.

Suddenly, Alastair dashed toward the terrace, startling Blaze. “Alastair! Noooo!” he shouted in alarm. Rushing to the edge, he peered down and was relieved to see that Alastair had landed safely, easing the anxiety that had gripped him moments before. Alastair giggled up at him, guilt etched across his cherubic face.

“You know, he’s done that several times while you’ve been away, and I’ve had to chase after him each time,” Marco remarked, approaching Blaze with a smirk.

“I just worry,” Blaze sighed, shaking his head.

“You don’t need to. Alastair isn’t a normal child,” Marco reassured, keeping an eye on Alastair as he busily collected leaves and stones.

“I know….Good thing we’re still far from the neighbors,” Blaze said.

“You know, I feel sorry for Alastair,” Marco mentioned as he sipped his wine. Blaze raised an eyebrow. “It’s just that he’s growing up without parents,” Marco continued.

“We are his parents,” Blaze responded.

“It’s funny. It’s like we’re an old married couple living with our retirement plans,” Marco teased, eliciting a glare from Blaze.

“Shut up,” Blaze muttered, though a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Marco’s laughter echoed, and it was a sound Blaze hadn’t heard in ages.

“Did you just laugh?” Blaze asked in disbelief.

“You made me laugh, my majesty,” Marco replied, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Go get Alastair and feed him,” Blaze ordered, and Marco promptly obeyed.

Years slipped by, and before Blaze knew it, Alastair seemed to be maturing into a young boy, even at just five years old.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Alastair burst in.

“Papa, Uncle Marco, you need to explain something to me,” he said, his expression serious. Blaze and Marco exchanged knowing glances.

“Didn’t I explain everything already?” Blaze replied.

“Who ate the chocolate cake in the refrigerator?” Alastair demanded, catching them off guard.

“Guilty!” Marco shouted, raising his hand in mock surrender.

“Why did you eat it, Uncle? I was going to have that later,” Alastair pouted, eyes wide with disappointment.

“Just buy him another one, Marco. You’re such a glutton,” Blaze said, shaking his head.

“Papa…” Alastair cleared his throat, a hint of worry in his voice.

“What is it, son?” Blaze asked, suddenly anxious.

“Can I go with uncle Marco to town?” Alastair pleaded, his eyes bright with hope.

Blaze and Marco exchanged glances again, a silent conversation passing between them.

“Sure,” Blaze finally replied, and Alastair’s face lit up with joy.

“Thank you, Papa!” Alastair exclaimed, radiating happiness.

Alastair was growing into a calm and respectful young boy, just as they had hoped… but Blaze couldn’t shake the fear that Alastair might uncover his true identity at such a young age. Though Blaze yearned for Alastair to enjoy a normal childhood, he knew the truth would eventually surface, and there would be no hiding it from Alastair forever.

“Alastair!” Michele called out, finding him engrossed in reviewing his notes, pretending to be busy to avoid talking with anyone. Alastair glanced at Michele.

“Aren’t you coming with us to eat?” Michele asked.

“No, I don’t want to. My uncle is picking me up later, I’ll eat at home,” Alastair insisted, reaching for his phone on the bench to call Marco.

“ Marco where are you?” Alastair asked on the other end of the line.

After finishing the call, Alastair quickly tucked his phone away.

“You really don’t want to join us?” Michele asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Alright, I’ll head out then. See you later.” Michele waved goodbye before leaving.

As Alastair sat there, he noticed five tall senior students approaching him, their intentions cloaked in a sinister air that made him uneasy.

He stood to face them, feeling a strange surge of heat coursing through his body. Although still just 15, his stature made him appear much older, much taller, amd bigger, and the senior students was taken aback.

“I can smell the alpha blood in your veins,” one of the boys remarked, causing Alastair to furrow his brow in confusion.

“Alpha? What does that mean?” he asked, genuinely perplexed.

“Oh… I see,” the boy replied, clearly taken aback.

“What are you trying to say?” Alastair questioned, frustration creeping into his voice.

“Alastair!” Marco called, striding up to him with an authoritative glare, prompting the seniors to disperse.

“Wait, what’s your name?!” Alastair shouted after the boy.

“Rio,” he heard in his mind, surprising him. Alastair instinctively grabbed his head, feeling as if a sharp knife had pierced his temple.

“Are you alright, Alastair?” Marco asked, concern etching his features as he pulled Alastair away from the school gate. Marco flinched as if burned by Alastair’s intense heat, quickly handing him a piece of chocolate cake to calm him down.

“What happened? Were they bothering you?” Marco broke the silence.

“Not really. I can handle myself, but there was something I couldn’t explain. My entire body felt like it was on fire,” Alastair confessed.

“You probably just have a high fever,” Marco replied, eyeing him suspiciously.

“I’m confused about what Rio said about alpha blood or whatever,” Alastair admitted, watching Marco pause, contemplating how to respond.

“I think… it’s time you learned the truth about yourself,” Marco finally said, causing Alastair’s eyes to widen in anticipation.

“What about me?” Alastair asked, his curiosity piqued.

“You are a—” Marco paused, assessing Alastair’s rapt attention, “a shifter, Alastair.” He whispered the last part. “Your bloodline descends from humans who can shift into wolves,” Marco explained.

“Don’t joke at me like that!” Alastair replied, disbelief lacing his voice as he chuckled nervously.

“It’s true. And tonight, there’s a full moon, and Blaze and I decided to teach you how to shift into your wolf form,” Marco stated seriously. Alastair fell silent, absorbing the weight of Marco’s words as the car engine purred to life.

Arriving at the manor, Blaze greeted Alastair with a warm embrace, which he reciprocated tightly.

“By now, you probably know everything about your identity,” Blaze murmured. Alastair’s mind raced, struggling to comprehend what he had just learned.

“You reminded me of what we endured five centuries ago,” Marco said, a distant look in his eyes.

“Five centuries? What are you, a vampire?” Alastair asked, confusion etched on his face. “So, all those supernatural beings I read about were real?”

“We’re not vampires. We are the last descendants of the Phoenix bloodline. We are also immortal, but unlike others, we experience a cycle of rebirth,” Marco clarified. “During our battle with the draconians, we were defeated. They discovered how to cease our existence, a powerful witch who trapped our ashes in a bottle and sealed it with magic so we couldn’t be reborn. Blaze was dying at that time, having lost all his power. I grabbed Blaze and ran away, I use my very last inch of power to scaped, I use my phoenix wings and then we fall into no where. ”