Defy The Alpha(s) novel Chapter 364

Chapter 364: The Eternal War

Although history knew that William's death had sparked off the Great War, no one spoke of Amina, his eldest daughter, whose descendants picked up where her father stopped.

Amina bore Gerard two grandsons. The eldest called Amalak, and the youngest, Noel, who was the jewel of Gerard's old eyes. From the moment Noel took his first breath, it was as if Gerard saw his own reflection in the boy. Noel in question practically worshiped Gerald and it was no wonder that when he died during the war, Noel took up his "legacy".

With the influence of his family name and his grandfather's old allies Noel rose through the ranks with alarming speed. He spearheaded several violent missions under the guise of "containment" and "control," leading raids on werewolf safehouses, overseeing interrogations, and proudly executing what he called "cleanses."

He did not just inherit Gerard's hatred; he refined, streamlined and modernized it. He wrote manuals, trained men, and built an entire ideology around purging the were-kind. It became a legacy passed not through teachings, but through blood. His children learned the hatred with their milk, raised on bedtime stories of the "beasts" who destroyed their family and the humans who would rise again.

But war devours everything, no matter how noble the disguise. When the final battles of the Great War unfolded, the Gerard bloodline suffered heavy blows. Of all the descendants of Minister Gerard, only a few made it out alive. His descendants were scattered or slaughtered on the field.

However the world changed. The accords were signed, and a new era was born, one that no longer permitted the open butchering of werewolves. The war crimes finally buried beneath politics and peace.

But not all legacies die with treaties.

The Turner family, descended from a bastard son of Gerard, survived. They did not parade their hatred in the public like their ancestors. No, they adapted. The hunt was no longer legal, so they worked in secret. And in the shadows, they thrived.

The Turner family were wolf hunters, bounty killers, and assassins. You name it. They built a network that didn't deal in drugs or guns, rather traded in fangs, pelts, and claws.

It was hard to tell what they were since they lived an ordinary life, taking up meager jobs like clerks, merchants, teachers. But in private, they were killers, carrying blades and bullets dipped in wolfsbane. They operated carefully, leaving no trails or witnesses.

The Turners were not just hunters. They were preservationists of a forgotten creed. A family that saw themselves not as murderers, but as soldiers in an eternal war. A war the rest of the world pretended was over.

But the Turners knew better.

They knew that war never truly ends. It only sleeps. And now, two centuries later, it stirs again. This time, only one side would win.

Right now, cynthia passed the small bottle of Ignis to each member of the family.

But Joseph turned it over in his hand, unimpressed. "Doesn't look like much," he said, then began tossing it into the air, playing with it.

"Don't!" Cynthia snapped at him. "Even a single drop is precious."