Wolf's throat
Mist curled among the ancient pines, threading its pale fingers between trunks like shy spirits reluctant to reveal the hidden glade beyond. Dawn's first light filtered through the trees, muted and silver, lending the forest an otherworldly hush. In the heart of that hush, two sisters stood side by side, their white gowns brushing the dew-soaked grass, their dark hair braided in identical twin plaits that swung gently with each breath. Behind them, colossal and silent, a wolf of purest white watched over them, its luminous blue eyes like twin lanterns in the dimness.
Auriel raised one hand, fingertips trembling as she reached toward the wolf's great flank. Under her touch, its fur was softer than cloud—warm, living warmth that contrasted with the chill air. Beside her, Serene closed her eyes and leaned her head back, as though seeking communion with something neither wind nor mortal tongue could name. The wolf exhaled a deep, resonant breath, a sound that trembled through earth and bone, and the sisters shivered in reverence.
"Do you feel it?" Serene whispered, voice soft as fallen petals.
Auriel nodded, her dark eyes shining. "It calls us." She turned her gaze to the silver nimbus above; somewhere beyond those trees lay the path they'd followed since dusk. Only the wolf had found them in the labyrinth of shadow, guiding them here. They did not know its name, nor the power it served—only that its presence was both burden and blessing.
A low growl rumbled in the wolf's throat; it was a call and a warning. Auriel stiffened. Far off, beyond the circle of pale daisies and foxgloves, movement stirred. A cloaked figure advanced, feet silent on moss. The sisters exchanged a glance of alarm. This glade was sacred—they had been told that in childhood, by their grandmother's trembling lips. Few dared intrude. None, save those who sought to claim the Wolfguard for ill.
The figure halted at the edge of the clearing. The cloak fell back, revealing weathered skin and eyes like chips of flint beneath a hood. "Children," the stranger said, voice dry as parched earth. "It is time."
Auriel's heart thundered. "Time for what?" she asked, though anticipation braided with fear in her veins.
The stranger's lips curved in a faint, cruel smile. "To promise your devotion—and bind your souls to the wolf's." He gestured toward the beast. "She will serve as your patron. In return, you will serve her kingdom, hidden as it is from mortal eyes."
Serene's hand shot to her sister's arm. "We never agreed—"
The stranger's gaze flicked to the wolf. "Nature abhors a vacuum. If not you, others will come." His eyes gleamed. "Will you accept willingly, or must the pact be forced?"
The wolf's ears twitched. It lowered its head until its muzzle was almost at ground level, nostrils flaring. The sisters sensed its plea: trust. But the stranger's words left a bitter aftertaste. What price would be demanded of them? Their grandmother's tales spoke of guardians and covenants, yes—but also of sacrifices, of mortal daughters consigned to wild magic.
Auriel squared her shoulders. "We will not bind ourselves to any who approach with threats." Her voice was small yet unshakeable. Serene straightened, matching her sister's defiance.
The stranger's smile widened. "Then you leave me no option." He raised a slender stave of black wood, carved with runes that pulsed dimly. Murk gathered at its tip, a shadow that crept outward like ink spilled upon water.
The wolf growled again, deeper and more insistent. It shifted forward, so vast its movement should have rent the earth. But the sisters did not cower. They took each other's hands, white lace entwining, and stepped between the wolf and the stranger.
"Stay back," Serene commanded, voice trembling like a bowstring. "We stand with her."
At that, the wolf lifted its head. From its throat came a sound that was neither growl nor song but a resonance of power: an ancient vow whispered through centuries of moonlit hunts and sacrificial altars. The wind stilled. The daisies bowed. Ferns quivered, and the forest held its breath.
The stranger's stave flared with acrid smoke. With a fierce cry, he thrust it forward—and the wolf struck. Lightning cracked through the mist as claws of pure light raked the air; the branches above hissed and snapped. The stranger staggered, black robes alight with shadows that writhed and whimpered before snuffing out like dying embers.
Auriel seized the moment. She whispered, "Now!" And together, the sisters rushed forward, sliding beneath the stranger's outstretched arm. The wolf whirled, fangs bared, but did not halt its assault until the stave skittered from the stranger's grip and shattered against a tree. With a final, thunderous roar, the wolf's form shimmered, and its head reared back in a triumphant howl.
The stranger fell to his knees, hands clutched to his ears as though to shut out the world. When he dared look up, the wolf loomed over him, its great body a column of moonlight. Its eyes bored into him until his knees gave way. Then, with an almost gentle nod, it turned away. The sisters approached, steady despite adrenaline's wild pulse.
Serene knelt beside the stranger, though neither sister spoke. The wolf had chosen them as protectors. Their acceptance yesterday had been tentative—a hope that they might one day merit such grace. But the ordeal of dawn had clarified everything. It was no longer a choice but a destiny written in fur and fang.
Auriel offered her hand to Serene; Serene grasped it. Together they rose, silhouettes of human and wolf bound in shared triumph. The forest exhaled, the mist receding to reveal emerald glimmer and sun-struck leaves.
"The bond is sealed," Auriel murmured. She turned to the wolf and laid a hand upon its snout. "We are yours, as you are ours."
The wolf dipped its head. In that gesture was gratitude, fierce loyalty, and a promise older than stone. The sisters felt a warmth bloom in their chests, a spark of wild magic that hummed in their veins.
Behind them, the stranger scrambled to his feet, awe and fear flickering in his eyes. "You—" he stammered, voice hoarse.
Auriel stepped forward. "Go back and tell those who sent you: no darkness can claim this bond." Her tone was soft but steely. "Leave this place, and let it remain holy."
With trembling defiance, the stranger bowed before the wolf, clutching the remnants of his broken stave. Then he retreated, vanishing into the woods like a bad dream fading at dawn. The sisters watched him go, the hush of the forest filling the space he occupied.
When silence settled once more, Serene turned to her sister. "What now?"
Auriel closed her eyes and inhaled the crisp morning air. In her mind's eye, she saw distant mountains wrapped in cloud, rivers that wound like silver snakes, and cities where people slept unaware of the unseen realm beside them. She saw the wolf's kingdom―a tapestry of hidden groves and secret rites—and she felt the weight of promise upon her shoulders.
"We journey," she said at last, voice calm. "We learn to serve. There are others like us, bound to other guardians, scattered across the last wild places of the world. We will seek them. We will stand as guardians in turn—of forests, of rivers, of the sky itself—until the balance is safe."
Serene's smile was small and brave. "Then let us go forth, Wolfguard."
At that word, the wolf at their side emitted a low, sonorous rumble that felt like a benediction. Together—wolf and sisters—they stepped beyond the glade. Behind them, the daisies and foxgloves swayed, as though waving farewell. Ahead lay a path strewn with moonlight and the unknown, calling them ever onward into legend.