The Direwolf Alpha's growl reverberated like thunder across the forest clearing, rattling Aiden's bones. Its amber eyes gleamed, unblinking, unwavering—an unspoken challenge between beasts.
Aiden staggered back, clutching his torn arm. Blood dripped between his fingers, hot and slick, but the pain did not weaken him. It sharpened him. Each pulse of blood carried the hunger higher, like kindling fed into a roaring flame.
His breath came ragged. His teeth clenched until his jaw ached. He tried to steady himself, to remember who he was—his mother's smile, the warmth of the village hearth, the fleeting moments of normalcy.
But all of it drowned beneath the pounding in his veins.
Take it.
Devour it.
Claim your place.
The hunger's whispers were louder than the Alpha's growl.
---
The beast prowled closer, massive paws crushing soil and roots with every step. Its pack lingered at the edge, hackles raised, ears pinned back. They would not interfere. This was not their battle.
This was a duel.
Predator versus predator.
The Alpha lunged.
It moved like a storm, its body a wall of muscle and fangs. Aiden braced, but his human body could not match such raw force. He raised his good arm to block, the blow slamming into him like a battering ram. The world tilted—trees, sky, dirt—before he crashed against the earth hard enough to rattle his spine.
Pain screamed through him. His vision blurred. For a heartbeat, he thought he would not rise.
And then the hunger howled.
His body moved before thought could catch it. He rolled to his feet, faster than he should have been, the torn flesh of his arm already knitting faintly. His blood burned, black-gold light flickering beneath his skin.
The Alpha halted, head cocked, nostrils flaring. Recognition gleamed in its eyes.
This was no longer prey.
---
Aiden's lips peeled back in a snarl he didn't realize he'd made. His fingernails blackened, elongating slightly, the tips sharp like claws. His pupils narrowed, faint golden rings glowing within the darkness.
His heart hammered so violently it felt like it might tear free. But he welcomed it.
The Alpha charged again. This time, Aiden didn't dodge.
He surged forward to meet it.
Their collision shook the clearing. Fang met flesh, claw raked against claw. Aiden's hand shot forward, gripping the beast's muzzle, forcing it back with strength that should not have been his. The wolf snarled, its hot breath washing over him, but Aiden's answering growl was just as savage.
He slammed his forehead into the Alpha's snout. Bone cracked. The beast yelped, stumbling back.
Aiden didn't give it space. He pounced, landing on its back, fists hammering down with brutal precision. Each strike made the hunger laugh, made his blood roar louder.
Yes.
More.
Break it. Consume it.
---
The Alpha thrashed, rolling violently, trying to crush him beneath its weight. Aiden leapt free, landing low and feral, his breath misting in the cold night air.
The villagers reached the treeline just then. Torches lit the scene in flickering orange. Gasps and shouts filled the air.
They did not see a young man fighting for survival.
They saw a monster.
His claws glinted in the torchlight, his eyes glowed with inhuman gold. Blood dripped from his torn clothes, from the corpses of wolves scattered at his feet. And at the center of it all stood the Direwolf Alpha, massive and unyielding—locked in combat with something no longer quite human.
"By the gods…" one hunter whispered.
"He's… changing."
Elder Harren's voice was like a hammer. "Do you see now? He is the curse made flesh!"
But Miriam's grip on her staff tightened. Her heart thundered—not in fear, but in awe.
That power… it's more than a curse.
---
The Alpha lunged once more, jaws snapping. Aiden twisted, his body moving with animal fluidity. His clawed hand slashed across the wolf's face, leaving deep gouges. The beast howled, staggering, its eye blinded.
The pack shrank back, yelping, uneasy. Their Alpha bled.
The hunger shrieked triumph.
Aiden panted, chest heaving, blood and saliva dripping from his lips. His vision blurred with gold and black. The world was sharper than ever—every heartbeat, every breath of the wolves, even the distant gasp of villagers.
He wanted more.
He wanted the Alpha's strength.
If he tore it apart, if he devoured it, he would climb higher. His body knew it. The hunger promised it.
The beast stumbled, snarling, its massive chest heaving. Aiden stalked forward, steps slow, deliberate, his clawed fingers twitching. The glow in his eyes brightened.
Predator's claim.
---
The villagers cried out as Aiden lunged, tackling the Alpha. The two went down in a storm of claws and fists. The forest shook with their struggle. The beast's fangs tore at Aiden's shoulder, ripping flesh—but Aiden didn't falter. He roared, striking again and again, until his fists sank deeper, until the Alpha's struggles weakened.
And then he felt it.
The pulse.
The life of the beast, thundering beneath his hands. The hunger surged, mouth watering, throat burning. He could devour it. Right here. Right now.
He bent low, lips parting, teeth aching with need—
---
"STOP!"
The cry split the night.
Miriam's voice, raw and desperate, cut through the bloodlust. Aiden froze, his fangs poised above the wolf's throat. His eyes flicked up, finding her standing among the villagers, staff glowing faintly with light.
Her gaze wasn't fearful.
It was pleading.
"Aiden! Don't lose yourself!"
For the first time, the hunger hesitated.
Aiden trembled, his body torn between two worlds. The wolf's pulse throbbed beneath his hands, begging to be taken. His own heart thundered, begging for control.
The Alpha growled weakly, bloodied but alive.
The villagers stared in silence.
Would he devour? Or restrain?
---