Chapter Forty-Eight: A New Alpha Age
Seasons passed.
The scars on the land had healed — so had the ones in the hearts of Blackridge's people. The howls at night were no longer cries of warning, but songs of life, of unity.
At the highest peak overlooking the valley, a new stone altar stood — not for worship, but for remembrance. Etched along its base were the names of the fallen. And above them, two symbols intertwined: a flame and a wolf's fang.
Rina stood before the altar in ceremonial armor, her hand resting in Kael's. Her cloak, dyed crimson and silver, billowed in the wind as the pack gathered to witness history.
Elara stepped forward, her staff glowing faintly with old magic.
"Today," she said, "we mark the first age not ruled by bloodlines, but by bond. By choice. By love."
Rina looked out at the faces — warriors, elders, pups, humans who had chosen to stay and be part of something larger.
"No more hiding," she said. "No more fear. From this day forward, we lead not with dominance, but with unity."
Kael raised his hand, and the crowd fell silent.
"Let this be the first age of peace. And if war ever returns — let it find us together."
A great cheer rose. Wolves shifted and howled in chorus with the wind.
Later, beneath the stars, Rina and Kael sat by the fire, surrounded by laughter, the scent of pine and cooked meat in the air.
"We did it," Kael said softly.
Rina leaned into him. "No. We're just beginning."
And far above, the moon shone bright, a guardian to the land of Blackridge — reborn in flame, ruled by heart.
The Alpha Flame still burned.
But now, it burned for love.
The End.