He was born a stain in the werewolf code, a phantom in human society.
He learned the rules of survival in the rust-stench of junkyards.
When three women reached into the abyss to save him:
One with ink-stained hands, offering a dagger of salvation;
One with a serpent’s silver bracelet, gripping a bloodied scepter;
The last with ballerina gauze, hiding a poison-dipped rose.
He paid in scars to understand:
The cages woven from gold by humans, the thrones forged from bloodlines by wolves—they were all the same prison.
When the crimson moon rises, the new king must choose:
Let three loves become claws to tear the world apart,
Or shatter his pride to forge a path never seen—
A third road between species.
