SYSTEM OF THE SILVER CROWN HEIR

Thunder boomed over the Silvermoon Realm. Silver lightning split the sky, mirroring the crest the Von Silvermoon line had bled for over five hundred years. Wind screamed through the palace walls, dragging the sharp scent of rain and wild moonbloom down from the northern cliffs. Duncan didn’t notice. 

He dragged his feet down the west corridor. Bandages pulled tight over his ribs. Dust and dried mud caked his torn white cloak. The dark stains across the fabric weren’t his. Three days. No sleep. Just him and the shadow beasts at the border, carving until his bones screamed, until his muscles felt like they were on fire. All so this godsforsaken kingdom could sleep safe.

In his right hand, he crushed a small velvet box. Knuckles white. The fabric tore under his fingers.

Inside lay the Pendant of the Pure Moon. The oldest treasure of their house. Forged from starlight and the blood of the first Alpha King. It was only given to the true partner of the heir. An oath. Forever. The last bit of magic his mother had left him before the fever took her.

Tonight, he was going to give it to Elara Voss. 

Then he reached his chambers. The rooms he’d built with his own hands. Filled with the books she liked, the chair she said was comfortable, the bed he’d imagined them in. 

And he heard voices.

Not servants. Not guests. 

Elara. Sweet as honey. His name on her lips a thousand times. But now it was breathless. Greedy. It made his stomach turn. 

And under it, another voice. Smooth. Warm. That easy charm that fooled the whole court. 

Gareth.

Duncan stopped. The air went out of him. No. No fucking way. He pressed his back to the cold stone. Inched forward. The door was open an inch. The gale outside pushed it wider.

What he saw broke him.

His bed. Their bed. Gareth had Elara pinned under him. Tangled. Filthy. Stolen. 

Elara’s hair was down. She always tied it up. Said mess made her look weak. Now it was spread across his pillows like a banner. Her face wasn’t ashamed. It was lit up. Triumphant. Like she’d finally won.

“Gareth,” she sighed, nails dragging down his back. “You’re nothing like him. Duncan, the so-called strongest Alpha heir… he treats me like glass. Like I’ll shatter if he touches me wrong. He’s so busy being the perfect prince for everyone else. But you… you don’t ask. You take. You make me feel like I’m not invisible for once.”

Gareth kissed her throat. Slow. Possessive. That soft, sickly sweet voice he used on their father. On every lord in the court.  

“Of course I do. He thinks being second-born makes him special. Thinks Mother’s pendant and Father’s pity make him a king. But I’m firstborn. I learned to smile and wait. I learned what people want to hear.” He looked up, right at the door, and smiled. “He’s just a dog we set loose on monsters. And you… you deserve to sit on a throne, not wait in his shadow.”

“I know,” she whispered. Fingers tracing his jaw. “I’m done pretending to care about his stupid dreams. When you’re king, I’ll be your queen. And we’ll make sure Duncan never touches anything that matters again.”

Duncan couldn’t breathe. His ribs felt like they were caving in. The velvet box slipped from his hand. 

Crack. 

The sound shot through the room like a gunshot.

He shoved the door open. Had to lean on the frame to stay standing. His eyes burned. He wouldn’t cry. Not for them.  

“What the fuck is this?” His voice broke. “Every word. Every promise. Was it all a lie?”

Gareth didn’t even flinch. He pulled his robe on like he had all the time in the world. That same cruel smile from when they were kids.  

“Oh, little brother.” He sighed, disappointed. “Don’t look at me like that. You were always so easy.” He took a step forward. Voice dropped, soft, like he was soothing a child. “I had to make you trust me. Had to let you think I was the only one who had your back. How else was I supposed to get close enough to put the knife in?”

Elara yanked the sheets up. Her face went cold in a second.  

“You gave me nothing, Duncan. Loyalty. Dreams. Empty words.” She spat the last one. “Gareth gives me power. He gives me a future. Don’t you dare act like the victim.”

Duncan laughed. It came out sharp and broken. Copper filled his mouth.  

“Victim? I’m the idiot who loved you more than himself. Who trusted his own blood not to stab him in the back while he fought for this kingdom.” He looked at both of them. “You’re disgusting.”

Gareth’s smile vanished. His eyes went flat. Calculating.  

“You’re too soft, Duncan. Too soft to rule. Too soft to keep what’s yours.” He took another step. “And soft things break.”

Before Duncan could call his magic, before he could reach for his sword, Gareth moved.

A flash of dark violet. 

Poison-iron. Forbidden. A blade made to eat magic and sever royal blood. He’d been hiding it for years.

Duncan was too slow. Too broken.

It went straight through his chest.

Heat exploded. Not pain. Fire. The poison burned through his veins, eating his Alpha strength until his arms went dead. Until his legs gave out. Every breath was glass.  

“Poison,” he choked. Blood on his lips. “You planned this. All of it.”

Gareth crouched in front of him. Whispered in his ear, sweet as venom.  

“Every breath. Every ‘I love you, brother.’ Blood-Blight will take care of the rest. Tomorrow they’ll say the great heir died a hero. No one will know the truth.” He twisted the blade. “And I get the crown.”

Elara didn’t even look at him. She turned away.

Darkness came. The thunder faded. The pain in his body was nothing compared to the hole in his chest. 

But as he died, one thought burned: 

'If I get one more chance. I’ll tear out every lie. I’ll strip you of everything. I’ll make you beg.'

Gareth wrenched the blade free. Duncan hit the cold marble. His blood spread over the carved wolf-and-moon crest. The end of the true heir.

Then the dark swallowed him.

And a voice spoke. Ancient. Certain.

[TRUE HEIR: BETRAYED AND SLAIN.]  

[SILVERMOON BLOODLINE: CONFIRMED.]  

[SYSTEM OF THE SILVER CROWN HEIR: ACTIVATED.]  

[SOUL SECURED. REWINDING TIME.]  

[DESTINATION: SILVERMOON ACADEMY. TEN YEARS PRIOR.]  

[WAKE UP, HEIR. END THE ECLIPSE.]

The cold faded. The pain dulled. 

He wasn’t dead. 

He’d been given one chance. To burn every lie. To expose every snake. To build something they could never steal. 

This time, he wouldn’t be the prince.

He’d be the monster they feared.