Curse Of The Bloodless

The silence of a few seconds seemed to stretch an eternity as the entire cave fell silent.

All eyes laid on Gray.

The faces of the werewolves displayed a palpable mixture of disappointment, disbelief, and simmering discontent as they gazed upon the son of their esteemed Alpha, who had failed to awaken his bloodline during the pivotal Bloodline Awakening ceremony.

The night air was suddenly hung heavy with a sense of unfulfilled expectations, as the collective hopes of the pack hinged on this sacred ceremony was dashed like egg against a stone.

Gray slightly looked around. It was not so dark that he could not see their faces.

The pure disappointment etched on their expressions wasn't merely a reflection of a ceremonial setback; it symbolized a fracture in the perceived strength and legacy of their Bloodline.

The Alpha's offspring, traditionally regarded as the inheritor of formidable traits, had faltered in a trial designed to showcase their innate power.

This unspoken tension revealed the underlying fear that their pack's dominion might be compromised by Gray's apparent inadequacy.

Amidst the sea of downturned eyes, a chilling undercurrent of perceived intent emerged.

Whispers spread among the werewolves, hinting at the dire consequences that loomed over the uninitiated boy.

The inability to awaken one's Bloodline was, in their deeply ingrained culture, a sign of weakness – a trait that posed a potential threat to the pack's harmony and dominance.

As Gray stood amidst the sea of disapproving stares, the chilling realization dawned that his fate hung in precarious balance.

At least, that was what it seemed like.

Werewolves were not one to waste time.

The sure easiest method would be to tear him apart on the spot.

The perceived intent to end his life wasn't a mere act of cruelty, but a desperate bid to safeguard the pack's integrity.

At this moment, the struggle between loyalty to tradition and the dire implications of a faltering Bloodline was etched in every gaze fixed upon him, encapsulating a moment of profound and somber reckoning.

"FUCK!" Gray cursed in his heart.

It was not that he was going to die, but the consequence of what was about to come.

Elder Tam that conducted the ceremony was first to move.

He leaped over the altar in an attempt to grab Gray.

However, Denver instantly pulled him behind her while Ironclaw rushed in front of them

~GROWL~

~GROWL~

Both Weres bared their teeth and claws GROWLING sharply at each other.

Their gaze was intent one on the other.

"IRONCLAW! You dare side with a bloodless and go against tradition?"

"TAM! You dare go against your Alpha, or have the countless times I dragged your mane through the mud taught you nothing of respect?"

The other Weres also Growled, but their's were very low.

In fact, it was almost in audible. Of course, the elders were an exception.

But none of them moved.

No! None of them wanted to.

Ironclaw did not become a Were by accident.

He climbed to his position by blood and cruelty.

Nearly all his opponents had died or left physically scared in one way or the other.

In fact, the only reason he allowed Tams was because hurting such a strong warrior would injure the strength of the pack as a whole.

He was Alpha, not stupid.

Denver held her son behind her back.

Unlike her level 5 husband, she was only level 3, the level for elder in the pack, but she was also not an ordinary Were.

Together, they stood with Gray in the middle.

"Get out of my face Tam, Or I'll send your blood to my ancestors in purgatory as a penance for Killing a BETA wolf."

Slowly, the growls reduced.

"You can't hide him forever Ironclaw, he is a weak link to the clan. A very weak link! I am sure you know what happens to weak links. We are only being merciful. A death by his clan will see him welcomed by his ancestors, but if dies without a bloodline..."

Tam intentionally did not complete his words.

Werewolves were a very traditional bunch. Honor to ancestors was even more regarded than honor to the gods.

Any denial by one's ancestors was a curse to the rest of the family back on earth. Such was their belief system.

"I'll say this here and now. I rather take on any consequence as Alpha than to see the blood of my son touch the earth. Is that CLEAR?"

Ironclaw's voice was loud and commanding.

His entire persona gave off the indomitable pressure of a leader, but more than that, a father.

Ironclaw had taught his children about honor day and night.

However, right now, Gray was seeing it for himself.

This man, with his long fading mixture of black and peppered white hair was a man he really would have not mind fighting in his previous life.

Ironclaw's determination spoke not just through his mouth, but his bloodline pressure that he slowly released all around him.

Tam looked into his eyes a little bit more.

He could not help but chuckle lightly as he took a step back.

"Since you claim to do whatever it takes, then I suggest you do it. Because I, Tam, Beta wolf of this clan and great grand son of Alpha White beard, the last Werewolf to stand against the Human Butcher, will not follow an Alpha that ignores tradition."

The moment he said this, there was a little murmuring.

However, Gray had a quick flashback about White Beard. He remembered killing that Alpha a long time ago. That was truly a note worthy fight.

To think that Tam was related to him by bloodline.

This was probably destiny. After all White beard had stood and fought with all his might to hold Gray back while his family escaped the slaughter.

Gray suddenly felt a little pang of regret. If he had done a great job then, Tam would definitely not be here running his mouth.

However, Tam was not done.

He could see that he had trapped Ironclaw in a compromising situation.

"Show us your honor Ironclaw. Stand by tradition and kill the Bloodless or you Dethrone..."