The sun dipped behind the misty hills of Blackridge, casting golden streaks over the worn rooftops of the small, hidden village nestled deep within the forest. The woods whispered with the hush of approaching night, and shadows stretched long across the earth like fingers of some silent predator. Everything in the village slowed as darkness approached, as if even time respected the ancient power of the surrounding wilderness.
Lucia stood barefoot on the cold stone porch, a basket of damp laundry in her aching arms. Her hands were red and cracked from the icy water of the stream, and the wind bit at her cheeks like tiny knives. Her cotton dress—an old hand-me-down two sizes too small—clung to her skin from the wet splashes, and the rough fabric chafed her waist. But she dared not complain. Complaining only made things worse.
Behind her, the crooked door creaked open.
"Don't think turning eighteen makes you special," hissed the familiar, venom-laced voice. "You're still the useless stray your father dumped on me."
Lucia stiffened. Her stepmother's voice always carried the chill of cruelty, sharper than any blade. She didn't look back. She didn't have to. She could feel the woman's glare boring into her spine.
"Yes, ma'am," Lucia murmured, eyes lowered.
"Worthless," the woman spat, then slammed the door shut.
Lucia exhaled slowly. She closed her eyes to stop the tears from falling and looked up at the sky. The first stars blinked awake above her, silent witnesses to her suffering. They seemed closer tonight, clearer. Watching.
She turned and trudged to the clothesline, pinning up each garment with numb fingers. A wolf howled in the distance—deep, low, mournful. It echoed through the trees like a warning, vibrating through the air and sinking into her bones.
Lucia paused. There was something about that howl. Not just a wild animal's cry—it felt… intentional. It reached into her chest and pulled something buried. Something ancient.
The howl sounded again—closer this time.
She turned instinctively toward the forest. Its tall pines stood still, but a strange energy crackled in the air. A sensation she couldn't name ran down her spine, like a whisper brushing against her soul. It wasn't fear—it was longing. "Lucia!" her stepmother snapped from inside. "Stop dawdling and get inside. We don't need the neighbors thinking you're out here dreaming like some fairy tale girl."
Lucia didn't answer. She couldn't. Her eyes were fixed on the tree line. For a brief moment, she thought she saw glowing eyes—silver and wild—watching her from the shadows. But when she blinked, they were gone.
The door creaked again.
"I said come inside!"
She tore her gaze away and obeyed, her legs heavy as if the forest didn't want her to leave.
Inside, the warmth of the fireplace did little to soothe her. The house always felt cold, no matter how high the flames burned. Cold because it lacked love. Her stepmother sat in her usual chair, sipping from a chipped teacup, glaring at Lucia like she was dirt.
"Dinner's not going to cook itself," she said. "Move."
Lucia nodded and entered the cramped kitchen. She stirred the stew quietly, her thoughts drifting back to the forest. To the howl. To the way her heart had responded to it. She could still feel the echo of it in her ribs.
Something was coming.
She didn't know how she knew.
She just… did. Later that night, when the house was silent except for the steady crackle of the fire, Lucia lay awake on the thin mattress in the corner of the room. The shadows cast by the flickering flames danced across the walls like ghostly figures. Her mind was restless, swirling with questions she didn't dare voice out loud.
Why had the wolves called to her tonight? Was it just a coincidence, or something more? Ever since her mother's death, strange things had been happening. Dreams she couldn't explain. A pull toward the forest she had always been warned to avoid.
Her father, a traveler lost to the world, rarely stayed long enough to notice. Her stepmother, cold and cruel, only made sure she did her chores—and nothing more.
Lucia felt trapped between two worlds: the one she lived in, harsh and unforgiving, and the one calling to her from the dark woods.
Suddenly, a soft rustle outside the window caught her attention. She sat up, heart pounding, eyes searching the night.
A slender figure stood just beyond the tree line, bathed in moonlight. Silver eyes met hers—fierce, wild, and strangely familiar.
"Who's there?" she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. The figure stepped forward—a young man, tall and lean, with dark hair that shimmered like obsidian. His presence radiated strength and something else... ancient. Something that awakened a strange pull deep within her.
"You hear them too, don't you?" he said quietly.
Lucia nodded, her throat dry.
"The pack calls you," he continued. "You belong with us."
"Who… who are you?" she asked, fear and curiosity twisting inside her.
He smiled, revealing sharp canines that glinted in the moonlight. "I am called Kieran. And you, Lucia, are more than you know."
Before she could respond, the wind picked up, carrying the howl of the wolves once more—a sound that promised danger, power, and a destiny that could not be escaped.
Lucia's breath caught as Kieran's words settled around her like a cloak. The cold night air seemed warmer in his presence, though the woods still held their usual chill. Her mind raced — what did he mean? Belong with them? The pack?
Memories of her mother stirred faintly, hazy glimpses of soft laughter and a gentle touch, long since buried beneath years of loneliness and hardship. Could this strange boy be connected to that past? Or was he just another mystery in her tangled life?
"What do you mean, 'more than I know'?" she asked, her voice trembling. Kieran took a cautious step closer, eyes never leaving hers. "You have the blood of the wolf in you. It's why the pack called tonight. The howl wasn't random. It was a summons."
Lucia shook her head. "I don't understand. My mother… she was human."
"Your mother was many things, but yes, human on the surface. Beneath that, something stronger, wilder. The wolf's spirit runs through your veins, whether you like it or not."
Her heart pounded, both in fear and strange excitement. Was this why she always felt out of place? Why the forest seemed like home, and the villagers like strangers?
Kieran's gaze softened. "This world can be cruel to those like us. But the pack is family. A place where you won't be alone."
Lucia swallowed hard, torn between the life she knew — harsh, lonely, but familiar — and this new world, filled with danger, mystery, and perhaps belonging.
Behind her, the window rattled from a sudden gust. The wolves howled again, louder this time, closer.
"Will you come with me?" Kieran asked, offering a hand.
Lucia hesitated. Every instinct screamed to run, but something deeper urged her forward — a whisper of hope.
With a shaky breath, she took his hand. The moment Lucia's fingers brushed against Kieran's, an electric jolt surged through her body. It was as if the forest itself recognized the connection — the ancient bloodline awakening from its long slumber. Her heartbeat steadied, no longer a frantic rhythm but a steady drum guiding her forward.
Together, they stepped outside into the cool night air. The moon hung low, casting a silvery glow over the forest floor, illuminating the path ahead. The scent of pine, earth, and something wild filled her nostrils — a scent she hadn't realized she craved.
"Where are we going?" Lucia whispered.
"To the pack," Kieran replied. "There's much you need to learn, and no time to waste."
As they moved deeper into the forest, the sounds of the village faded behind them. The howls grew louder, echoing through the trees like a chorus of forgotten souls. Each step felt like shedding a layer of fear, of loneliness, of doubt.
But even as the promise of belonging pulled her forward, shadows lurked at the edges of her vision. Danger. Enemies waiting in silence. Not everyone in the pack welcomed newcomers — especially those carrying the bloodline of old.
Lucia's grip tightened on Kieran's hand, her resolve hardening.
"I'm ready," she said. Kieran smiled. "Good. Because your journey is just beginning."
They walked until the trees grew ancient and twisted, until the stars above blinked through the thick canopy. Then, in the clearing ahead, a massive shape emerged from the shadows — a silver wolf, larger than any beast she'd ever seen. It stood still, eyes gleaming with primal intelligence.
Kieran bowed his head. "This is Fenrir. Alpha of the pack. He decides who belongs."
Lucia's breath caught in her throat. The wolf stepped forward slowly, powerful yet graceful. Then, before her astonished eyes, he began to shift — bones cracked, fur receded, and within seconds, a tall, regal man with long silver hair and eyes that glowed like embers stood before her.
Lucia froze, unable to breathe.
The man stepped closer, his voice low and commanding.
Welcome home, Lucia. Your fate begins tonight.
The forest held its breath. And so did she.