The countryside was as vast as the deep blue sea which it overlooked. Sprawling acres of land and vegetation spanned across the outskirts, just outside the walls of the mainland. 

The mainland was where the human civilisation made its dwelling. They lived in futuristic buildings and used vehicles that could move on their own. Their way of life was aimless and drift less, without pledging unity to a pack, they lived in the way of 'to each his own'. Needless to say, the human civilisation's way of living was considered unacceptable; completely unorthodox and meaningless, their existence was considered as bleak as their purpose in life. 

They kept away from the countryside- a wise decision, despite being humans-, and any contact with them or following of their traditions was considered taboo. 

Despite the proximity and hostility brewing on both sides, they lived in harmony due to a coalition formed between them many years ago. The agreement prohibited any intermingling and the walls between the two lands served as a tight lock, separating both the species.

The countryside housed the Cerallio pack, one of the most influential packs of the higher order. They were considered the most radical and unorthodox, because they used medical knowledge obtained from the humans, and secretly- weapons and agents of warfare. They made up for this taboo practice to the higher order by maintaining their authority by their tight iron clad marital traditions and even tighter elitist social structure.

 Their elites were, quite literally, at the top of the food chain, with the alpha as their centre and was considered the epitome of power. The hierarchy was based on the strength of individual wolves- an attribute normally obtained at the age of ten when they received their 'transition'-, a process which ultimately determined the course of their entire lives. 

Everything depended on the success of the transition, their livelihood, social standing and even their right to live. 

Anyone with even an ounce of wolf blood underwent the transition, so half breeds were common, however the purity of their blood determined their individual strength. Those with royal blood were blessed with supreme powers; their wolves peaked even without the full moon in sight. Exceptions were rare but possible, but were considered intolerable- despite the process being out of anyone's control and solely an act of fate.

Cerallio's motto was 'power is a privilege', a motto which the Alpha exploited fully to his advantage as he used his ultimate strength to exert control over the entire pack. It didn't matter how that power was obtained, all that mattered was that they had it. 

The Alpha, Felix, had his own personal motto in addition to this one, 'to rule by fear is more powerful than to rule by fairness' ; this trait characterised all his relationships, be it with his family, fellow pack-mates or even, with his fiancée. 

His fiancée, Eileen, despite being of true royal blood and the heir of the former Luna and Alpha of the bioluminescence pack, wasn't anywhere near the top of the food chain. She was stuck at the bottom without a wolf of her own and seemed to sink even further after the Alpha set his sights on her and locked her in a marital arrangement. Despite being powerless, her lineage made her his most prized possession and he used her lack of strength to constantly remind her of her place. Her only respite was working as the pack's healer and spending her days working tirelessly in her shed in order to avoid the doomed reality that awaited her.

The shed in question was attached to the main house where the alpha stayed and was so shabby in comparison that it appeared as a servant's quarters. Soft candlelight could be seen streaming out through the window which slammed back and forth due to a sneaky gust of wind.

 The doors creaked at their hinges as the intensity of the wind grew and the candle inside struggled to remain lit. Its light flickered over the healer's hand as she struggled to hold a beaker steadily over it while simultaneously trying to close the window. The chemical in the beaker fizzed out and some of it landed on her hand. 

She cursed silently, wincing at the burn as she cradled her hand and hurried to the sink to wash it off. After struggling with the rigid rusty handle of the sink, she finally got the water going and sighed as the cool liquId soothed the burn on her hand. Washing it throughly with soap, she then dried it and covered it with the layered bandages she had prepared- they had been rubbed with ointment beforehand for emergencies like these. 

She returned to her table, determined to finish her work before another annoying interruption caused her to set the beaker down on the counter again. 

It was a loud banging on the door which startled her and almost made her drop the beaker, before the door swung wide open and two soldiers appeared at the periphery with grim expressions on their faces.