He had walked through the forest many times. He had wondered through those trees, his hair dancing in the breeze, with the fog greeting him. However, his trek had never been like this before. His cape covered his face and hid his hair from the wind, but the forest still knew him. She knew him when he wasn't even himself. She helped him in his time of need. Just like she was helping him now.

The journey took the rest of the day. While the heat from the summer raged on in the city, the sun blazing down on everyone, the forest stayed as cool as could be. The darkness gave it a calming look, like waking up at dawn. The fog was thick as the forest awaited the moons arrival in the night sky just like Shiro was.

He knew that they felt him cross the border to that territory. An Alpha with an aura like his could easily make it known to the entire pack that they were there. He knew that Sakdah would have ordered his men to have him killed on sight as soon as he entered the territory. He wanted him to have to kill his own people and weaken himself before facing him. But there was a reason why he had meditated in the forest for so long, and listened to her silent whispers. There was a reason why he trusted her. For the forest had seen all. She had seen everything that had happened in the land, and knew everything.

Shiro was not afraid of the warriors trying to find him because of that. He walked at the same speed, with the same pure white cape covering his face. The only thing that it didn't cover was his chest. For that was to remain seen so that they would see the fingerprints on him. The dye glowed in the dim forest. In the center of his chest lied the symbol for Mercy Waters. His sword still sheathed, he remained hidden through the fog alone. It hid him from the many warriors that were trying to find him, holding onto his scent in certain places to confuse them more.

When an Alpha gets challenged for their title, they have certain rules for it. Each pack has its own set of rules and regulations for a challenge, but there are some things that remain consistent. The Alpha will always choose which form they'd like to fight in. Both participants are allowed to have a weapon of their choosing. And their battle, once it starts, will not end until one of them is dead.

"What's this, Grandpa?" he asked. He was hanging out with him in his room that day. He told him that paperwork always went by faster when he was there, so he stayed to enjoy his grandfather's company.

"That," the old man looked up from his papers. "Is the Alpha sword."

"What's that?"

"Well," he started. He always smiled when he explained something to him. He loved that he could make him so happy just by asking questions. "Every Alpha of a pack has their own weapon of choice. It can vary from hunting knives, to broad swords, to the Samurai sword that you see before you." He walked over to the gold sword and took it out of its sheath. The blade looked sharper than the kitchen knives he always told him to stay away from. It's metal so shiny, he could see his reflection on it.

"This has been in our family ever since the pack first came to be," Grandpa told him. "Long and sharp, it causes a quick death to all those who threaten our family."

"What's this one, then?" he pointed to the one next to it. It was a gray one that had the symbol of water pouring out of a clay jug. It looked just as beautiful as the one next to it, though. Both of them made a beautiful pair.

"That is the Luna's weapon," his grandfather explained. "It's not common for Lunas to have a weapon of their own, but your mother insisted that we do it. For she wanted to show our friends and foe alike that the Luna of the Reverence Pack was not one to be trifled with. She wished to show them that she could compliment the strength of the Alpha, and fight along side him if it came to that."

"What was she like?" Shiro asked. He hadn't seen anything but pictures of his mom. He always wished he could meet her at least once in his life.

"She was the happiest person in the world," his grandfather smiled big when he said that, sniffling a bit. "There was nothing that she believed she couldn't do, whether it be fighting or trying to learn how to change your sister's diapers when she was a baby. But even though she wanted to be feared by her enemies, she was a woman of peace." He pointed to the symbol on the sword. "Just like the waters that come out of the jug on her sword, she only ever wished to bring happiness and life to all those around her. And, like the very water in our rivers, she did. For the whole time that she was alive, she brought nothing but life and happiness to the ones who knew her."

Sakdah didn't even blink an eye when that sword went missing from its case. He never looked at it. He merely believed that it was for show and wasn't as powerful as it's gold counterpart. He failed to realize that his wife had been stronger than most of the other Lunas of the land. That she didn't just have her looks to help her, but her smarts as well. He failed to realize just how important that blade would be to his very future.

Shiro's mother was Sakdahs very first victim. She had died for nothing other than the fact that she was carrying his son. She was innocent. And she would be with him while he sought for her and her father's revenge. The Lunas blade was made to be just as sharp as the Alphas. There was no reason for the Alpha's to be sharper. The point wasn't to overpower the other, but to be able to work together to fight off their enemies. One was never meant to be used to fight the other.

Unfortunately, that would be the case here.

Shiro allowed all of his memories of his grandfather to come to the front of his mind. He would be using each and every one of his lessons tonight. As the sun fell in the sky, and the moon rose, he got to his destination.

The pack house looked just as it always looked. Its beauty withstood the test of time. Their ancestors had made it as a way of always remembering where they came from. Because of that, they kept the look and always worked on keeping it well maintained. The past was important. If you don't know history, then you set yourself up for failure. For history liked to repeat itself, and knowledge is the most powerful weapon of them all.

He stepped out of the fog and into the clearing. Everyone that had been outside stopped what they were doing. They looked at him in fear, for they had never seen Shiro this way. They had never seen him as anything other than the peaceful boy that always helped them in their times of need. None of them knew that he had to act like a man at a very young age. There was very little in the pack that knew the truth about the situation. For they had to keep many secrets in order to keep all of their people safe.

But all those secrets would come out tonight. Whether or not Shiro would make it out of this alive, he would make sure that all is told. He would make sure that everyone knew what Sakdah did, and who he truly was.

"I am ready for the challenge," he spoke to them all. The moonlight shined off from his clothing, and the fog glowed from behind him. Even though it was a blood moon tonight, and it shined in all its large orange splendor, the moon was white. And Shiro would honor her tonight, and find justice for the children of her's that had suffered.

"Very impressive," Sakdah came out from the house. He wore black pants with a dark red shirt. The smile on his face showed that he was not worried about this event. "I have to say, to get through all of the warriors I had posted without looking like you had run at all is a true skill. It's a shame that you won't be able to use it for long."

Shiro smiled back at him. He could see the hint of worry in his father's gaze. He could see the fear that was there. That was what he wanted, out of anything else. During Sakdah's reign, he had made so many fearful of him. It was time for him to be afraid of someone instead. And Shiro was going to give him a reason.

"Your trials do not frighten me," Shiro told him. "You forget that I trained in this very forest, with those very warriors. You forget many things, Sakdah."

"As do you," his smile got wider. "You forget just where you came from. What I did to you the day you ran was just a warm up."

"Then let us both test our true strength," Shiro said. He was not afraid of his father. Fear was a weakness that he refused to have. Because fear was Sakdah's weakness. And it was a deadly one.

Shiro took off the cape, letting it fall gently onto the ground. He had tied his hair back before reaching his destination. The onyx strands were tightly held back into a ponytail. Other than that, he had not changed in his appearance since the time he first departed from his people of Mercy Waters. He still wore white pants, tight yet comfortable enough to fight in. He did not wear shoes, for they could weigh him down, and he did not wear a shirt, for that would hide all the ink on his skin.

They both walked closer to each other, until they were both standing at the edge of a small clearing. This wasn't the first time that an Alpha got challenged for their title in the Reverence Pack. But this would be the first time that the challenger won. He was sure of that.

Shiro saw nothing but familiar faces. They all looked at him with mixed expressions. Some were of worry, some hope, some fear, and others showed the same look of hatred for him that his father did.

One face that stood out, however, was the one who had helped raise him most of his life. Nikita looked from outside of the crowd. His light blue eyes reminded Shiro of pictures of the Russian sky when it was actually clear. Nikita had shown him many pictures of the place that he had been from. Next to him stood Ava. She looked worried and scared. He didn't wish for her to see what was to happen. But it was not his decision at the moment. All he could do was nod to them to give them confidence and look back at the man with whom he was to kill that night.

"Light the ring," Sakdah ordered one of the servants. They obliged. Lighting a wooden torch first, they moved the tip of it onto the ground where a black ring had been designed. It had been there for centuries, but hadn't been used in many years.

Even with the time of it not being used, it did its job. Under the light of the Blood Moon, the ring of fire was lit. The flames went as high as their waists, making sure that no one tried to escape while the challenge was underway. It also stopped people from trying to come in to stop it. For the fire was meant to be much too hot to pass. It looked almost white with its blinding heat reaching them. It lit up their battlefield.

Sakdah's face looked menacing under the fire's glow. Shiro had seen that many times before. He had seen that face every time there was a Black Skies Ceremony and he would witness the fake deaths that was taking place. He was not afraid of it, though. That face no longer gave him nightmares like it used to when he was thirteen.

They pulled out their swords. Sakdah was using the golden one that his grandfather had shown him many years ago. It's blade sharp while it glimmered under the heat of the fire. Shiro pulled out his mother's sword.

"Isn't that sweet?" Sakdah spoke with venom in his voice. "I thought you would use that sword. It's a pity it doesn't stand in comparison to the Alpha one. Did you really think that it could do battle?"

"There are many things that you refuse to see, Sakdah," Shiro told him. "You refused to see just how strong your wife was. You should know that to make yourself blind to something is to make yourself weak."

"You don't know anything about her," he spat at him. "Your mother was weak, just like you. She believed that power could be obtained by caring for everyone. She believed that strength was something you could gain through believing in the moon and listening to her every word. That was how she met her demise!"

"You killed her," Shiro said. The roar of the fire was not loud enough to hide those words from the people who watched. "You murdered Ming Wang because of your own selfish thirst for power. Just like you murdered all the others who put their trust in you. A leader is supposed to protect their people. You have failed as a leader."

"You talk too much like Munni," Sakdah scowled at him. "Did you forget that he died as well?"

"You may have destroyed his body," Shiro said. "But his soul lives on. He is never dead, for the people still remember him."

"Perhaps," he told him. "But no one will remember you after you die. After some time, they won't even remember your name."

The blade went for him after that as Sakdah attempted to surprise him. Shiro knew too well how much strength his father had. He dodged the attack and the battle began. Their blades met again and again and again as they fought to get an attack in. As much as his father didn't show his fighting skills that much, he was still a worthy opponent. Every time his blade met with Shiro's, he would try and use the force of it to push him back.

Shiro would just use this as a means to dodge another attack from him. Instead of moving back towards the fire that raged on, he would turn and go for another attack. Sakdah was trying to use repetition to wear him down. He continued his attacks, making sure every one of his hits were met with force. Shiro knew what he was doing though.

Shiro landed the first hit of the battle. He cut his blade into the man's side, ripping the dark red shirt in the process. The blood poured out, turning a dark red to show him that it was deep. A growl of anger came out of Sakdah's mouth. Those brown eyes turned to rage as the irises expanded. He did not clutch onto his side. Instead, the wound was left completely ignored.

That was when the real battle began. Now Sakdah's fighting style was changing, like the wind that blew past them, feeding the fire. Shiro couldn't predict his movements. He couldn't predict the man's rage. He dodged everything he threw at him, moving as quickly as he could. It didn't matter how powerful those blows were if it could be dodged.

Everything he had ever been taught went into this fight. With all of his training and preparing for this battle his entire life, he had never been as challenged as he was right then. He never underestimated his father when it came to battle. For he knew that if he did, he would most surely die from his hands. But it was unknown to him the true power of his father. The true power of the anger that was in his eyes. In battle, the man was confident. He kept his abilities hidden from the pack; from Shiro.

He must have been preparing for this moment as well.

A small mistake left Shiro disarmed. He met the sword with his own at the wrong angle. It was only a tiny bit off, but it allowed Sakdah to have the upper hand. He swung the sword in a circle, taking the sapphire one that Shiro was using with it. He watched for a split second as the sword flung through the air, landing on the opposite side of the fire.

There wasn't a pause in his father's actions. He slashed through Shiro's chest. Blood touched the fingerprints that he had on his chest, crying out the woes and sorrows of everyone that had suffered by this man. He couldn't give up just yet. This wasn't over.

He straightened again, moving the pain from the wound to the back of his head. He would fight his father without a weapon. Every slash that was thrown at him was dodged as Shiro began to use his fists as a means of defending himself. He grabbed onto one of Sakdah's arms and tightened his hold. Gritting his teeth, he tried to quickly snap the bone.

But it was taking too long. Sakdah wasn't slowing his pace down from the pain that Shiro was surely causing. It was as if he couldn't feel pain at that moment. Shiro let go of the arm as soon as he felt the sword go through him. It was his side that it went through, but it was enough to make him fall to the ground. His blood was dark red, but there was no bile. If there was bile then he would surely be dead.

"You really thought that you could defeat me?" Sakdah yelled through the roar of the fire. The look in his eyes showed pure hatred. "You are no son of mine. I don't know how you survived before, Shiro, but I intend to make sure it doesn't happen again."

"I am your son," Shiro coughed. His strength was weakening as he tried to get up. "Not even I can deny that."

"You are not my son," he kicked him, driving his heel into the wound that he created. The pain threatened to overwhelm him. "You do not have my wits or my strength. You are exactly the boy that Munni wanted. You became exactly like him. And just like him, you will die from foolishly thinking that I was weaker than you."

He would not die. Shiro had too many people that he had to fight for. They had all given him his strength as he prepared for battle. But his blood was strong in smelling and his sight was getting blurry. He wasn't sure what his next move would be.

"It's a shame, though," Sakdah said, his blade so close to him that he could hear it. "You even dragged your sister into this mess. She could have found a strong mate, one that would have taken her away from all of this. I would have allowed for her to leave. Yet you influenced her to help you on this pointless endeavor to kill me. Quite a shame."

He didn't know what was happening until he felt the man pull him by his hair. He was lifted off the ground by it, his body screaming to be freed. But he forgot about all of the pain when he looked to see what the man had put in front of him.

"I think I'll have you watch her death before I kill you," Sakdah said. "Maybe then you could truly see what you did. How much harm you caused."

Hiroko looked fearfully at him. She was chained up with silver onto a wooden pole. Her gray cloak threatening to catch flame against the fire that had been lit underneath her. That short hair never looked so matted with sweat as her chest moved up and down in a state of panic.

No. Shiro couldn't have this. He couldn't see this. Not again. He couldn't have the last of his family be killed right before his eyes. Hiroko was the only one that he had left to call his own. She was his mother; his nurturer; and the annoying sister that loved to tease him about his mate. She was his teacher as well as his student. She was his equal.

"You are the only one who is strong enough to stop him, my boy," those dark eyes held so much promise in them. "You are blessed by the Spirit of the Moon, destined to lead this pack long before you were even thought to be conceived. Don't let my death swallow you up and weaken you. Allow it to strengthen you. For I will always be with you no matter what."