Chapter 1 — The incident

The day began like any other, with the same salty tang in the air and the cries of gulls echoing over the harbor. His father, though beginning to show signs of age, was already by the boats, preparing to sail. To anyone else, it might have seemed like an ordinary morning.

It was Micah's birthday. He had turned nineteen, old enough to finally earn the title of fisherman and take his father's place, continuing the legacy he had inherited. The pack did not celebrate with cake or anything of the sort. Their traditions held far more meaning.

"Another year stronger, Shark bait!" His father slapped him on the back proudly.

"My name is Micah, Dad."

"Come on, can't a father cherish his son?"

Micah sighed, though his chest swelled with pride. Any werewolf his age would envy his position. The next werewolf chief.

His tail swished behind him as Nico, his little brother, barreled into his chest.

"Hi, big brother. Can I come with you today?"

Micah hugged him tighter, patting his head. "When you're older, I'll take you myself."

"Yay! Thanks, Mics!"

Nico was seven years old, blond, with amber eyes just like their mother's. Unlike his brother, Micah had inherited both of his parents' eye colors through heterochromia, along with his father's dark hair.

Nico had always tried to sneak onto the fishing trips. He had begged their mother countless times, but she always refused.

He was far too young and fragile, for that matter. She was right in her decision.

Perhaps Nico would have been the one lost.

Micah headed toward the docks, where his father was waiting as usual, preparing the fishing nets.

"Hey, son."

"Hi, Dad."

That was all they said as they continued working.

Micah glanced over at his father's side and noticed that he was tying the knots differently than usual. Being the perfectionist he was, Micah gently reached over to fix it.

"Here, let me do it."

He twisted the knot properly, his hands moving swiftly and skillfully. His father gave him a crooked smile.

"I guess I can really retire now."

"I hope not. I'll definitely need your advice on chief matters," Micah said, despite himself, with a smile.

"That's my boy."

His father paused just long enough to watch him work.

"I'm so proud of you."

The village celebrated with freshly caught fish. Micah and his father competed in a cooking competition, which ended in a tie. The food was quickly eaten afterward.

Micah's mother had never looked happier. She laughed nonstop, especially when both men burned their first attempts. Nico cheered for both teams and kept sneaking pieces before Grandma Mae, the judge, could even taste them.

At the end of the day, Micah and his father disappeared to the shore, their bare feet sinking into the cool sand as the night air whipped through their hair.

The chief wanted to show Micah what it truly meant to be a leader, so they went out on one of the larger boats. At first, the sky remained clear, the moonlight shining over the sea as they traveled.

Then, suddenly, a storm broke.

The sea turned against them.

The winds rose stronger than ever before, howling like wolves beneath a full moon. The magic that had protected them from the dangers of the outside world cracked, weakening with every brutal pull of the storm.

It was meant to be another bonding trip, just the two of them exploring the peaceful seas.

Instead, Micah and his father gripped the net, desperately trying to hold onto their catch.

They had underestimated the weight of the fish.

The sudden force tipped the boat sideways, threatening to throw them both into the raging ocean.

"Don't let go, Micah!" his father yelled, pulling with all his strength.

Micah wanted to answer. He wanted to tell his father he was holding on.

But he couldn't.

The ocean had already chosen.

The boat lurched sideways again, more violently this time, and Micah slipped into the water with a loud splash.

Having hit his head against the deck, he barely had time to react before the water rushed over him, dragging him under and filling his lungs.

His father dove after him on instinct, his arms reaching desperately forward.

But he was too late.

The ocean pulled him back toward the surface, away from his son.

For the first time in thousands of years, the magic barrier broke. If only for a moment, it was enough time for one of its own to be lost.

Micah was swept thousands of miles from home while unconscious.

—

A few hours later—

Micah coughed, spitting out a mixture of sand and seawater.

The last thing he remembered was hitting his head, and then nothing.

His clothes were soaked, and he was sitting on a pile of sand, so he assumed he must have fallen into the water afterward. His parents must have been terrified.

He just needed to get back.

Everything would be okay.

The cold weather wasn't helping his situation either. The night seemed to close in around him, adding to the bitter chill.

Snowflakes drifted from the sky, which would have seemed soft and delicate if they weren't so unfamiliar to him. He had never seen anything like it.

At home, the weather was warm year-round.

This was truly uncomfortable.

Beautiful, of course, but uncomfortable.

The cold bit into his skin, numbing his fingers as it rushed across his cheeks.

He staggered to his feet, nearly falling twice, and turned around.

When he did, his breath caught.

Behind him stood a city unlike anything he had ever imagined.

A vast, magnificent world filled with skyscrapers that seemed to pierce the heavens and lights glowing against the dark night.

"Where the hell am I?" he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his snow-covered hair.

His ears twitched occasionally, trying to adjust to the unfamiliar cold. He tucked his tail closer to himself and pulled his hood up.

Now he was truly beginning to shiver.

He trudged toward the city, hoping to find some kind of warmth.

His vision blurred at the edges, and each step grew heavier than the last.

The best shelter he could find was a narrow alleyway. It offered little warmth, but it provided some protection from the falling snow.

"Well... this is a downgrade from home," he muttered, rubbing his hands against his shoulders.

Just as he began to believe he was safe, a sound echoed from the pitch-black darkness.

Something had moved.

And honestly, the last thing he needed was something trying to eat him.

His heart pounded in his ears, and without wanting to deal with whatever it was, he bolted.

Absolutely traumatized.

Unfortunately, he failed to realize he had fled from nothing more than a stray cat.

It took him far too long to find anything, let alone anyone. His body continued weakening, and he was certain he would collapse.

Before he could reach safety, his body finally gave out.

The world tilted for the second time that day.

And Micah fainted from hypothermia.