Chapter 1
The city of Piltover was a fractured masterpiece, a tapestry of gleaming ambition and buried secrets. In the Upper District, colossal spires of glass and steel rose into the sky, their sleek, polished surfaces reflecting the sun's rays in dazzling flashes that threatened to blind. The air here was crisp, scented with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee, the exotic fragrance of imported flowers, and the pungent undertones of alchemical fumes—silent, secretive, and confined within the high society’s walls.
Beneath this glittering façade, the Undercity sprawled like a living entity, its veins made of rusted pipes and dense shadows. The sound of clanking machinery echoed through the streets, a constant reminder of the simmering rebellion brewing below. The air in the depths was thick with the metallic taste of iron, the greasy tang of oil, and an unsettling undercurrent that hinted at something far darker, far more sinister. The luxury above was merely a mask, a superficial veil that hid the grim truth. Piltover was a city divided—its wounds far deeper than the streets that separated its two worlds.
Jayce Talis had seen both sides of this fractured jewel. He had once stood at the pinnacle, the gleaming spires of the Upper District promising him the world, the future wrapped in the certainty of his ambitions. But that was before the wolf had come—before the transformation that shattered his place in the world and blurred the lines between human and beast.
The wolf inside him had reared its head, a primal force that twisted his destiny and fractured his sense of self. Once, Jayce had been a man of unshakable resolve, his path clear and his purpose unwavering. But now, he was a creature divided—no longer fully human, bound by the ideals of his past, yet never fully wolf, unable to surrender himself entirely to instinct and ferocity. The pack had taken him in during his lowest moment, The Ironclaws, a group led by Caitlyn, whose harsh teachings had forged him into someone who could survive in a world that both feared and reviled him. Yet survival came at a cost. As the years passed, Jayce had risen from a mere soldier to third in command, but leadership—like power—carried its own burdens.
He questioned everything: his place within the pack, his decisions, and his ability to balance the primal instincts of the wolf with the moral compass of the man he used to be. Did he truly belong here, among the howls and claws of those who lived solely by the brutal laws of survival? Could he lead them toward something greater, or was he doomed to perpetuate the same cycles of violence and fear? And what of the humans—the ones they fought so diligently to protect from the vampires?
The doubts were endless, gnawing at him like a predator circling its prey, a relentless reminder that he was a creature at war with himself and the fractured world he was sworn to protect. The memories of the last war haunted him—wolves and vampires locked in unyielding combat, a blood-soaked stalemate that left Piltover’s streets slick with death. He could still hear the cries of the wounded, the savage clash of teeth against steel, and the acrid stench of blood that seeped into the city’s stones. The human populace, caught between predator and prey, had turned to the wolves for protection, clinging to the faint hope that one breed of supernatural beings might shield them from another.
Even now, years after the ceasefire, the delicate peace hovered, ready to shatter at the slightest touch. The wolves howled beneath the full moon, instincts threatening to pull them toward chaos. Vampires, cloaked in shadow, plotted and schemed, their hunger for power as relentless as ever. Yet amidst the simmering tension, Jayce clung to one belief: peace—however fragile—was still worth preserving.
And that was why he had agreed to meet Viktor.
The vampire had approached him weeks ago, slipping through the chaos of a skirmish like a shadow made flesh. Jayce had been tending to the wounded, his hands slick with blood, when Viktor emerged from the mist. The very air around him had shifted, the temperature dropping. His golden eyes had gleamed with an unnatural light—glowing, cold, predatory. Viktor’s voice, when it came, was smooth and dark, each word spoken with the careful deliberation of a man who had lived through eras, who knew how to weave webs that even the strongest of men would stumble into.
“Your wolves bleed for a cause that will destroy them,” Viktor’s voice slid into the air, smooth as silk, yet heavy with an unspoken weight. “I know what you’re thinking—why should you trust me? And the truth is, you shouldn’t. But I can offer you something your pack cannot: the truth.”
The words hit Jayce like a punch to the gut, the implication laced with insult and warning. A jolt of anger flared up in his chest, hot and immediate, demanding an outlet. With bloodied hands, he swiftly picked up his warhammer from the muddied ground, almost striking Viktor down then and there, his instincts screaming to rid the world of the vampire who dared to speak so recklessly.
But Viktor didn’t even flinch. He didn’t step back or brace for impact. Instead, he stood perfectly still, his golden eyes boring into Jayce’s with a certainty that persisted at the edges of his mind. There was no mockery in his tone, no malice—only calm, cold conviction.
Jayce hesitated, his hammer lowering slightly as the weight of Viktor’s words settled on him. He wanted to dismiss the vampire’s claims as lies, manipulations. But there was something in Viktor’s voice—a certainty, a calm so unnerving it made him pause, just for a heartbeat. Ekko, a new packmate and soldier, called out to Jayce from a distance, arms filled to the brim with more bandages and supplies. When Jayce turned back Viktor was gone, quickly as he came.
Jayce had wanted to dismiss him. It was easier to think of the vampires as liars, manipulators, killers. Easier to believe that Viktor was just another monster in a city already filled with them. But deep down, a cold knot of doubt tightened in his stomach. His instincts—the wolf inside him—whispered that there was truth in Viktor’s warning. That the danger wasn’t just outside them, but creeping closer, from within the walls they had fought to protect.
For weeks, Jayce had tried to ignore the doubt eating away at him. He buried himself in his duties—training the other younger wolves, managing tensions with Caitlyn, keeping Vi from breaking every rule in sight. But the rumors wouldn’t stop. Whispers of failed alchemical experiments, of strange disappearances in the Undercity, of shadowy figures seen slipping in and out of Piltover’s council chambers.
It was the kind of thing Jayce had once dismissed as nothing more than paranoia—a vampire’s lies or an ambitious wolf’s delusions. But now, with every passing day, the feeling that something dark was coming grew harder to ignore.
Then the message came.
A carefully folded letter, delivered by an unmarked courier. The message was brief, the words scrawled in Viktor’s distinctive handwriting—elegant, precise. No signature. Only a single line that burned into Jayce’s mind: Come if you want answers.
The meeting place was named—the ruins of the Academy, a place long abandoned by both human and beast, where the walls had fallen silent and the echoes of history had been swallowed by time. Neutral ground. The kind of place no one dared to tread, for fear of what it might reveal.
Jayce hadn’t told Caitlyn. Or Vi. Or anyone. He knew what they would say. That it was a trap. That it was a betrayal. Caitlyn would have ordered him to stay, to never show his face there. Vi, his closest ally, would have read the message and laughed at him, warned him not to be foolish. But Jayce had seen too much to ignore this feeling clawing at him, a sense that the answers he needed lay within Viktor’s words.
Against every instinct that told him to walk away, to close the door on this twisted path, Jayce had gone. Alone. The weight of the decision pressed on his shoulders like a stone, but if there was even a chance—just a fleeting whisper of truth—he had to take it.
The ruins of the Academy rose like a corpse from the earth, skeletal walls clawing at the sky. Moonlight spilled through the cracks, casting jagged shadows across the ground. The air was heavy, thick with the weight of memories buried beneath the rubble.
Jayce leaned against a broken pillar, his warhammer slung across his back. Every instinct screamed at him to turn back, to return to the pack where loyalty was clear and lines were drawn. But Viktor's words—cryptic and biting—sliced through his instincts like a razor.
A rustle broke the silence, soft but distinct. Jayce straightened, his wolf stirring beneath his skin. The scent hit him next—sharp, metallic, and unmistakably vampire.
“Viktor,” Jayce growled, his voice low, his grip tightening on the hammer’s shaft.
From the shadows, Viktor stepped into the moonlight, his golden eyes gleaming like molten metal. His movements were measured, deliberate, as though every step carried the weight of centuries.
“Talis,” Viktor greeted, his voice smooth, layered with an unspoken challenge. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
Jayce’s amber eyes narrowed. “I’m here. Now tell me why I shouldn’t crush you where you stand.”
Viktor’s lips quirked into the faintest smirk, but his gaze remained steady. “Always so direct. A trait I’ve come to appreciate in wolves. But I didn’t summon you here to fight.”
“Then what do you want?” Jayce snapped.
Viktor’s hand slipped into the folds of his coat, withdrawing a small vial of crimson liquid. The moonlight caught it, making the substance inside shimmer with a faint, unnatural glow. “To warn you,” Viktor said, holding the vial aloft. “And to offer you a chance to stop the end before it begins.”
Jayce’s nostrils flared as he caught the scent—sharp and acrid, laced with something darker. “What is that?”
“Proof,” Viktor said, his voice soft but carrying weight. “That you are fighting the wrong war,” Viktor replied, his words soft but sharp, each syllable a calculated cut. “That the humans you protect will never see you as anything more than a beast.” Viktor’s words were soft but cutting, like a whisper slipping under armor to strike at the vulnerable places beneath. “They cling to your strength because they fear the dark, but they fear you just as much. Perhaps even more.”
Jayce’s breath caught, his brow furrowing. “That’s not true,” he snapped, though doubt crept into his tone. “They need us. They’ve always turned to the wolves for protection. Without us—”
“Without you, what?” Viktor interrupted, his voice smooth but edged with steel. “The humans would fall prey to vampires? Perhaps. Or perhaps they would finally build their world as they wish—one without wolves. One without monsters.”
Jayce froze, the word hanging in the air like a specter. “Monsters,” he repeated, the word foreign and bitter on his tongue.
“Yes,” Viktor said, his gaze narrowing. “Monsters. It’s what they’ve always called you, isn’t it? Not protectors, not saviors. Just another threat to be endured, another enemy to be eliminated once your usefulness runs dry.” He stepped closer, his movements deliberate, each one pulling him deeper into Jayce’s space. “Do you think this vial is meant for vampires alone? No, Talis. They’ve created it for you as well.”
Jayce stiffened, his heart pounding. “You’re lying,” he said, though the words felt hollow.
“Am I?” Viktor’s smirk was faint, barely there, but his golden eyes burned with certainty. “Tell me, then. Have the humans you’ve bled for ever thanked you? Do they offer you gratitude, or do they cower in your presence, whispering behind your back, waiting for the day when you turn on them?”
Jayce’s mind raced, the weight of Viktor’s words settling uncomfortably in his chest. He wanted to deny it, to call Viktor a liar. But flashes of memory flickered in his mind—humans avoiding his gaze, stepping back when he approached, their smiles tight and strained. He had told himself it was fear of the vampires, of the danger always looming nearby. But now, doubt crept in, cold and insidious.
Viktor tilted his head, his gaze unrelenting. “And what of your leader? Your Caitlyn?” His voice dropped, quiet and cutting. “Does she tell you everything? Does she question the cost of this endless cycle of violence? Or does she simply demand your loyalty, expecting you to bleed for her without hesitation?”
Jayce’s jaw clenched, the words twisting like barbs in his chest. Caitlyn had led him, trained him, shaped him into the wolf he was today. She had saved him from the chaos of his transformation. But she had also demanded much of him—his trust, his strength, his unquestioning obedience.
“Why are you telling me this?” Jayce demanded, his voice hard but tinged with unease.
“Because you need to hear it,” Viktor said simply. “And because your leader won’t tell you. Caitlyn sees only what she wants to see: a pack united, protecting the weak. But she’s blind to the truth.”
“And what truth is that?” Jayce barked.
“That the humans don’t want protection,” Viktor said. “They want control. And when they can no longer control you, they will destroy you.”
Jayce’s eyes narrowed, suspicion flaring. “Why come to me? There’s plenty more options to choose from in the pack.”
Viktor tilted his head, studying Jayce with an intensity that made his skin crawl. “Because you question. You doubt. And doubt, Talis, is the first step toward seeing the truth.”
Jayce bristled, his wolf stirring uneasily beneath the surface. “And that makes me weak?”
“No,” Viktor said, his voice softening. “That makes you dangerous. To them. To me. To anyone who underestimates you.” He held out the vial, his golden eyes locked on Jayce’s. “You are not blinded by hatred or bound by tradition. You understand that survival requires something more than brute strength or blind faith. It requires someone willing to see the truth, no matter how uncomfortable it is.”
Jayce hesitated, his gaze flicking between Viktor and the vial. His instincts screamed at him to walk away, to return to the pack and report the vampire for daring to approach him. But the words Viktor spoke, the calm conviction in his voice, gnawed at the edges of his mind.
“And what if I don’t believe you?” Jayce asked, his voice low, the weight of his decision pressing on his chest.
Viktor’s smirk returned, faint and unreadable. “Then you doom us all. But I think you already know that.”
With a flick of his wrist, Viktor tossed the vial toward Jayce. The liquid inside sloshed, sending a shiver through the air, and Jayce caught it easily, his fingers closing around it with a surprising gentleness. He stared at the vial in his hand, his heart pounding, as he studied it with a mixture of disbelief and unease.
“What am I looking at?” Jayce asked.
“Alchemy,” Viktor said simply. “Human ingenuity at its most lethal. That vial contains the prototype of what they’re crafting. A mixture of silver and blood magic, capable of obliterating both our factions.”
Jayce’s grip tightened around the vial. “And what’s your stake in this?”
Viktor’s faint smirk vanished, replaced by something colder—something calculating. “My coven is already crumbling from within. Countless vampires have gone missing, one after another. The humans' weapon is the spark that will set the pyre alight. If we don’t stop this, we’ll all burn.”
He took a step closer, his presence unsettling, like a predator closing in on its prey. Viktor’s gaze bore into Jayce’s, unflinching. “And your precious pack will follow. As much as your kind has depicted vampires as monsters, I, too, want peace between us.”
Jayce’s grip tightened on the vial in his hand, his mind racing. Viktor's words hung in the air. He had always seen the vampires as the enemy, a threat to everything he had fought to protect. But Viktor's intensity, his vulnerability, spoke to something deeper.
“What do you need me to do?” Jayce finally asked, his voice low, handing back the vile into Viktor’s awaiting hand; Viktor tucking it back securely into his coat pocket.
“I need Information,” he said, the word dragging out with the weight of its importance. “There’s an alchemist in your district—Singed. A human who has been... experimenting with blood magic. I need access to him.”
Jayce took a moment before meeting Viktor’s gaze, his wolf stirring uneasily beneath his skin. 'You’ll get your access, but I’m coming with you.' he said, his voice firm.
A flicker of something—amusement, perhaps—crossed Viktor’s face. “How noble. I hope your loyalty doesn’t cost you your life, Talis.”
Jayce’s jaw tightened. “Let’s get moving. The pack will lose their minds if they catch even a hint of your scent in our territory.” He straightened his shoulders, slinging his hammer behind his back, the weight of his resolve settling over him like armor.
As Jayce and Viktor melted into the shadowed streets, the silence they left behind was quickly broken. A figure lingered in the darkness, her piercing eyes gleaming with fury. Vi crouched low behind a rusted pipe, her breath caught somewhere between a snarl and a sob. Each word exchanged between the unlikely pair felt like a blade twisting in her chest. Viktor’s voice, smooth and calculated, grated against her instincts, but it was Jayce—Jayce, the man who had once pulled her from the gutter and given her a reason to fight—who made her stomach churn. Her fists trembled at her sides, her nails biting into her palms until the pain forced her to focus. The Jayce she knew would never stand so calmly beside a vampire, would never look at one with anything other than the disdain their kind deserved. But here he was, walking alongside a leech, of all things.
“That bastard,” she muttered under her breath, her voice a low growl. “Siding with a vampire. What the hell are you thinking, Jayce?”
She pounded her fist against the ground, the sharp crack of bone on concrete echoing through the narrow street. For a moment, she froze, the pain grounding her as conflicting emotions warred within her. Anger, disappointment, and a persistent guilt churned in her chest.
Jayce wasn’t just her friend—he was her family. He’d pulled her out of the chaos of the Undercity when she had nothing and no one, giving her a second chance at life. But now, that trust felt like it was unraveling, and she didn’t know if she could forgive him.
Her heart thudded painfully as she rose to her feet, her legs moving before her mind could fully decide. Her loyalty to the pack—and to Caitlyn—drove her forward. The image of Cait’s face flashed in her mind, calm and collected even in the most volatile situations. Caitlyn, her lover, her anchor. She deserved to know the truth, no matter how much it tore Vi apart.
Her steps quickened, the echo of her boots ricocheting off the walls of the Uppercity. By the time she reached the pack’s hideout, her heart was racing, though she wasn’t sure if it was from exertion or the weight of her decision.
Inside, the air was charged with tension. Wolves gathered around Caitlyn, who stood at the center of the room, her sharp eyes scanning a map spread across the table. The sight of her made Vi’s chest tighten—a mixture of love and guilt colliding in her throat.
Bursting through the door, Vi called out, her voice ragged, “Caitlyn!”
Caitlyn’s head snapped up, her expression flickering with concern as she took in Vi’s disheveled appearance. “Vi? What happened?”
Vi hesitated, her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides. For a moment, she considered keeping it to herself, burying the truth. But the image of Jayce standing with Viktor, whispering in the shadows, burned too brightly in her mind.
“It’s Jayce,” she said finally, the words bitter on her tongue. “He’s… he’s working with a vampire.”
Caitlyn’s expression darkened, her sharp features hardening like steel. “What did you say?”
Vi swallowed hard, her throat dry. “I followed him tonight. He was meeting with Viktor—at the academy ruins. They were talking about something big, something secret. I didn’t hear everything, but…” Her voice faltered, then steadied with effort. “He’s betrayed us.”
The room erupted into chaos, wolves snapping and shouting over one another.
“After everything we’ve done for him?”
“He’s turned his back on the pack!”
“This is treason!”
Caitlyn’s sharp whistle cut through the rising chaos, silencing the room in an instant. She stood at the center like a storm barely held at bay, her gaze sweeping over the gathered wolves with a cold fury. But as her eyes settled on Vi, a flicker of something else—pain, perhaps—briefly softened her features. She stepped closer, her movements measured, her expression carefully controlled. “You’re certain?” she asked, her voice low but carrying the weight of command.
Vi hesitated, guilt clawing at her, but she nodded. “I’m certain.”
Caitlyn’s jaw tightened, her hands clenching into fists. Her voice was ice. “After everything we’ve built. After everything I’ve done for him.” Her lips curled into a snarl. “Jayce Talis has made his choice.”
The pack growled in agreement, the air thick with anger and betrayal.
“We prepare now,” Caitlyn said, her tone sharp and resolute. “If he’s turned against us, we’ll make him answer for it. No one moves without my command.”
As the pack sprang into action, Vi stood frozen, her heart hammering in her chest.
Caitlyn stepped closer, her voice softer but heavy with emotion. “Vi,” she said, her eyes searching. “Are you okay?”
Vi shook her head, unable to meet Caitlyn’s gaze. “No. I don’t understand, Cait. He’s my best friend. He’s like a brother. And now…” Her voice cracked.
Caitlyn’s hand brushed Vi’s arm, a rare display of tenderness. “Whatever happens, we’ll face it together. You did the right thing.”
But as Caitlyn pulled away and returned to rallying the pack, Vi remained rooted in place. Her heart felt like it was splintering. She had done the right thing.
Hadn’t she?
She couldn’t shake the image of Jayce—the man who had saved her from the depths of the Undercity, who had given her a life worth living. And now, with Caitlyn’s anger fueling the pack, Vi couldn’t help but wonder if she’d just signed his death sentence.