I narrowed my eyes. The ink didn’t look aged like the rest of the book. It was crisp, fresh, as if someone had written it just before I got here but the number, I suspected to be the year this was written, said otherwise.

A cold prickle crawled up the back of my neck.

This wasn’t just a letter. It was a warning. A warning to protect me. I am he, he with a lost mate; soul in binds.

I turned the page, the thick parchment rough beneath my fingers. The words before me were more than history, oddly they didn't concern things of human life.

I read across a woman, Morvena, feared, accused of practicing forbidden witchcraft. Hunted. Persecuted. But never truly killed. Instead, she lived on, shifting between bodies, evading time itself.

I exhaled slowly, scanning the next set of pages. Bloodlines. Names I recognized. Names I didn’t. All leading back to one truth—this wasn’t just any book. It was my history and the next line made me realize I was living in it, even now.

My eyes locked onto the next heading, the letters carved in deep black ink, set in an ancient calligraphy writing.

And beneath it, three words.

The Fog Division.

A slow tension crept through my chest. The vision I had seen, the one that had shaken me to my core—it was right here, drawn with eerie precision. The oak tree, the restless shrubs, the very ground that had swallowed the mist. The moon rolling over the clouds and hiding behind it after separating the roads. Every detail was identical.

It wasn’t a dream.

It was a memory.

I saw it again, like it was happening. My mother resting by the oak, gazing at it; the fog division. Her eyes met mine watching her hold me in her hands, I saw the confusion on her face and the vision ended immediately.

My heartbeat drummed against my ribs, steady but strong. I ran my fingers over the words, as if touching them might offer more than just knowledge. And then, as if pulled from the deepest part of my mind, my mother’s voice echoed through me once more.

"You shall protect the trinity, from the chaos which shall arise with the realization of self."

It didn’t just replay in my head—it etched itself there. Carved into my thoughts like scripture on stone.

I wasn’t just reading this book.

I was living it.

And I had to know who had written it.

My breath came slow and steady, but inside, my mind was tearing itself apart.

I scanned the pages, my eyes moving fast, devouring each word like a man starved for answers. The text was no longer just a story. It was my story, my vision inked onto the pages by hands unknown.

I had never been here before. Never laid eyes on this book. Never spoken these words aloud. And yet, they were written as if someone had been inside my head, transcribing my thoughts, my memories, my very existence.

"This child you carry will be the end of the trinity."

The words struck like a hammer to my skull as I read it off the pages. My fingers clenched around the book’s spine, knuckles whitening. The next line shifted—no longer my voice, no longer my perspective.

As he watched the visions, a voice echoed across the walls of the bathroom. He searched with his ears, trying to find where the voice came from, but it surrounded him from all directions.

The pronouns had changed. The style was different. The words described me but written by someone else.

I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering in my ears.

Was I writing this? Or was someone watching me?

"If he discovers his destiny, Morvena will feel his awakening. She will come. And destruction awaits all of our kind.”

I slammed the book shut. My hands trembled, my breath sharp.

This was no ordinary journal. It was predicting me. Warning me. Against Morvena? Who is Morvena?

“Prevent this; Keep alpha away from Luna.”

It warned again. Luna? My mate? She is my destiny? The visions showed me she was on the other end of the fog division. If I can reach it, if I realize her…my destiny, I bring the destruction of all kind.

I couldn’t take more. I flipped through the pages, faster, searching for something—anything—to prove this was all just paranoia. But as I went further, the ink thinned. The lines faded.

Then, nothing.

Blank pages.

The story stopped.

Right where my vision had ended.

I froze.

This wasn’t just a book. It is a life compendium...my life compendium.

It was waiting for me to continue it.

I pulled my hand back, my breath shaky. The words bled onto the page, letter by letter, as if the book itself had been waiting for my desperation.

I swallowed hard, watching the ink form with unnatural precision. The Fog of Division.

The title sat there, untouched by time, crisp and bold like it had been waiting centuries for me to arrive. My fingers twitched, drawn to the page, but I hesitated.

For years, the moon had tormented me with visions, forcing my wolf out. It broke my bones, shattered me from the inside out, as if punishing me for something I didn’t understand. Every time, I survived. But survival wasn’t enough. I needed answers.

I needed to know who I am, what role I play in all of this.

I clenched my jaw, my pulse pounding. This wasn’t just a book anymore. It wasn’t just ink and paper. It knew me. It responded to me.

And now, it was ready to show me more.

The scratching sound continued, the unseen hand etching more words into existence.

I leaned in, my breath shallow, my world narrowing to the page before me.

And then, I read.

“The fog wasn’t just a barrier. It was a shield. A divine creation of the Moon Goddess herself, forged to protect the unborn heir of the Stormhowl pack—the Prime Alpha. No one had ever crossed it and lived. Not the Alphas of the strongest packs. Not the rogues who dared to challenge fate.

And the blood that will run through his veins? It will not be just any blood. It belonged to the first werewolf, the one the Moon Goddess herself had created. The Hrothgar ancestors had carried that power for generations, each one inheriting a unique gift. But the last of them—the one meant to bring the bloodline to its peak—was given something far greater. Immortality. Separation of forms. A supreme power. And something darker. A counterweight to his strength. A second self, lurking beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged. The greatest Alpha in his bloodline. The one destined to be more than any before him.”

The air around me thickened, my fingers gripping the edges of the book. My breath came in slow, measured exhales.

“However his life shall only begin with the realization of self; the coming of his mate.”