Chronicles of Rohan: The Birth of the True Alpha

Chapter 12: The Coordinates of Death

The forest was darker here.

Lucas gripped the note tighter, the ink slightly smudged by rain and sweat. The coordinates led them deep into Thalindor’s forgotten outskirts—a place not even Skylar had mapped. The trees loomed taller, their branches clawing at the sky like skeletal fingers. The air was thick, charged with something old and watching.

Dylan led the way, every step silent, every breath measured. He moved like a shadow, every motion precise, as if the forest itself might lash out at the wrong sound.

Dan, ever the mood-breaker, tried to lighten the tension. “I’m just saying—if we’re walking into a trap, we could at least bring snacks.”

Skylar gave him a sideways glance sharp enough to cut. “If we die, I hope you choke on your chips first.”

Lucas smiled faintly despite the weight in his chest. “If there’s danger ahead, we face it together. No surprises. No splits.”

Their boots crunched over moss and cracked twigs as they reached a clearing. Moss grew over remnants of something manmade—concrete half-swallowed by earth, steel pipes jutting from the ground like the bones of some ancient machine. What looked like a utility station had long since collapsed, reclaimed by vines and rot.

“This it?” Dan asked, eyes scanning the surroundings.

Lucas unfolded the note again, checked the coordinates, and nodded. “Yeah. This is the place.”

Skylar crouched low, running her fingers across a patch of disturbed dirt near the clearing’s edge. “Someone’s been here recently. Multiple footprints. And not just human.”

Dylan moved to a rusted metal grate partially hidden under a collapsed support beam. “There’s a hatch.”

Lucas stepped beside him. “Locked?”

Dylan smiled without humor. “Not anymore.” With a sharp twist, the lock gave way, the metal groaning as he pulled it open.

A staircase spiraled downward into the dark, swallowed by shadow and time.

Skylar raised her blade. “Let’s move.”

They descended slowly. The deeper they went, the colder it became. The air thickened, damp and heavy, carrying the scent of wet earth—and something else. A coppery tang that made Lucas’s stomach turn. Blood and rot.

At the bottom, the tunnel stretched forward, sealed in concrete, lined with rusted piping and disused light fixtures. Then, one by one, those lights flickered to life.

“Motion sensor,” Dylan muttered. “Someone’s still using this place.”

Lucas moved ahead, heart hammering. The tunnel opened into a control room—dusty, silent, alive with secrets.

Old monitors flickered with faint green light. A table stood at the center, covered in maps, papers, scattered tools. On the far wall, dozens of photos had been pinned.

Of Lucas.

Of Skylar.

Of Dan.

Even Dylan.

Dan’s voice broke the silence. “They’ve been tracking us.”

Skylar grabbed one of the papers, her eyes narrowing. “Research logs. They were studying your bloodline, Lucas. They’ve known about the True Alpha for years.”

Lucas flipped through the files on the table, pages filled with medical scans, blood reports, DNA breakdowns—all marked with his name. A manila folder stamped with red letters caught his attention.

PROJECT: THORN WOLF.

Inside, the contents were clinical, brutal. Reports of failed trials. Notes on accelerated aging. Photos of hybrid creatures—half-wolf, half-nightmare.

“They were experimenting,” Lucas whispered. “On wolves like me.”

Dylan’s eyes burned. “This wasn’t just research. It was harvesting. They were trying to recreate Alpha traits artificially.”

Dan picked up a vial filled with amber liquid. His hand shook slightly. “This one has your name on it, Lucas.”

Before anyone could react, the overhead speakers crackled to life.

“Well. You’ve found the lab.”

The voice was smooth. Confident. Cold.

Lucas stepped forward, staring up at the nearest monitor. “Show yourself.”

The screen flickered, lines of static racing across the glass. Then a face appeared. A man in his mid-thirties. Clean suit. Dark hair. Eyes like a glacier.

“My name is Malcolm Sire. Head of Research, Unit 9. And you, Lucas Tallman, are everything we’ve been waiting for.”

Lucas’s fists clenched. “You tortured people.”

“I enhanced them,” Malcolm said, as if explaining weather patterns. “And you, Lucas—you’re the crown jewel. A born Alpha. The final subject.”

Skylar stepped forward. “You’re sick.”

Malcolm’s eyes flicked to her, and he smirked. “And you’re a hunter’s daughter playing soldier in a war you don’t understand. You think you’ve escaped your bloodline, Skylar? We’ve been watching you since you were six.”

Skylar’s hand twitched toward her blade.

Dan muttered under his breath, “Okay, this guy’s officially creepy.”

Malcolm kept speaking, voice measured, tone icy. “You’ve seen the visions, Lucas. You know what’s coming. The Ash Queen. The extinction of control. But with your blood, we can stop it. Control it. Reclaim the future.”

Lucas’s jaw locked. “You’re trying to use me.”

“No,” Malcolm replied, smiling coldly. “I’m offering you purpose.”

Lucas took a slow step forward, the fury in his chest rising. “You’re too late.”

He slammed his fist into the console.

The screen shattered in a burst of sparks.

Alarms blared. Red lights flashed. Somewhere down the corridor, something exploded.

Skylar shouted, “Move!”

They ran—boots slamming against the metal floor, the sound of sirens and fire chasing them. Dan helped Dylan up the stairs, supporting his weight. Skylar took the rear, blade gleaming, eyes scanning every shadow.

The explosion rocked the hatch as they burst out into the clearing. Smoke and flame billowed from the open ground. The lab was gone.

Lucas stood over the burning ruins, chest heaving, hands clenched at his sides.

Skylar came to stand beside him. “That was a big move.”

Lucas didn’t look at her. His eyes were locked on the fire. “They know everything about me. About all of us.”

Dylan wiped blood from his chin, coughing hard. “We hurt them today. But they’ll come back stronger.”

Dan looked at the treetops, the orange glow dancing in his eyes. “So what do we do?”

Lucas turned to them. His expression was steel.

“We build a pack.”

Skylar raised an eyebrow. “A real pack?”

Lucas nodded. “If they want war, we’ll give them one. But we’ll fight it on our terms.”

Behind them, the forest watched in silence.

And far off, deeper in the shadows, another voice whispered:

“Let the boy gather his pack... we’ll crush them all.”