The chill of the August night clung to the air, a metallic tang of blood cutting through the dampness. On the edge of the Red Shine Pack's territory, near Seattle, Alpha Hercules moved with the silent, predatory grace of his kind. Uprooted trees and broken fences bore witness to a recent, brutal rogue attack. His cinnamon eyes, usually sharp with authority, narrowed as he examined the carnage, his sword still stained.

“Look more closely, I did hear someone shout for help. I feel that person is nearby.” He knelt, cleaning his blade, his focus unwavering. He called out, “Ryley! Ryley!” his voice carrying through the dense woods.

A young man, a spitting image of his father with the same striking eyes, emerged from the bushes, a sword in one hand, wolfsbane in the other. Ryley, at seventeen, possessed his father’s looks but none of his restraint. He was a bully, notorious even within the pack.

“We are here on a rescue mission, aren't we? But looks like you have forgotten the purpose,” Alpha Hercules chided, eyeing the forbidden plant. Ryley, ever the charmer, offered a sheepish grin and a flimsy excuse about a botany project. The Alpha, unimpressed, confiscated the wolfsbane.

As they moved deeper, Ryley, with a malicious glint in his eye, thought of the wolfsbane growing in the science lab. His father, seemingly oblivious, was handed a diamond pendant that read “Valentine.”

“Jason, it's a girl named Valentine. We have to find her,” the Alpha mind-linked. Ryley scoffed, muttering, “If she is... then it is going to be a bad Valentine's day, Alpha Hercules.” He pretended indifference, but a strange curiosity pricked him.

They found her under an old banyan tree, a horrifying tableau of torn flesh and broken limbs. She lay lifelessly, until a faint gasp escaped her lips. “H-hel-help…” she whispered, her eyes fluttering shut. Ryley, despite himself, felt a tremor of something he couldn't name. She was alive.