She missed Moonstone Den-the dense forests drenched in silver mist, the echoing howls under the full moon, the constant music of streams threading through the land. She missed Aiden, Lupus, Maxin-their laughter, their wild chases under the night sky, the freedom to transform without fear of being seen.
Life there had meaning. Rhythm. Spirit.
But here?
Here, everything felt wrong.
The human world was a cage built of rules and secrets. Their bodies were free, but their souls weren't. Transforming was forbidden. Showing their true nature was dangerous. So Rowena had spent nearly a year burying Abigail's instincts-smothering the very thing that made her alive.
Being wolf-blooded in a human world is like hiding a volcano inside a teacup.
> "I miss the wind in our fur," Abigail growled. "Let's just run."
Rowena looked around-the woods behind their house stood empty, still, and blessedly human-free.
"Fine... Just this once."
The transformation hit her like a forgotten pain. Muscles resisted, bones cracked and reshaped, skin rippling as fur bloomed across her body in streaks of oxblood and deep brown. Her eyes flashed emerald.
Abigail burst forward with a joyful snarl and sprinted through the trees. Freedom. Finally.
But the moment was short-lived.
Something-weak, trembling-echoed through the forest. A faint, wounded whimper.
Abigail halted, ears pricked, hackles rising.
She followed the sound swiftly and found a small clearing swallowed by shadows. In it stood a rusted cage... and inside, a wolf.
He was barely alive.
Matted fur. Sharpened ribs. Eyes sunken with pain.
"Hey, buddy... how did you end up like this?" Rowena whispered, shifting back and kneeling beside the cage. Rage rolled through her.
Humans again. Always caging what they can't explain-always destroying what they fear.
With Abigail lending her strength, Rowena forced the latch open. The metal groaned, then finally snapped.
The trapped wolf staggered out... collapsed... and began to shift.
Fur melted away. Bones reshaped. A young man-lean, powerful, around 5'6 with silky black hair-lay breathing heavily on the ground.
He looked up at her, lips curling into a faint, exhausted smile.
"I'm Soro. And you are?"
Rowena blinked. "Rowena..."
Their eyes locked-and something electric passed between them. Recognition? Fate?
She didn't know. But it unsettled her bones.
"What are you doing here?" she asked quietly.
"My family came for safety." His voice was bitter. "But safety doesn't exist. Not for us."
His gaze softened. "You're a wolf too. It's been years since I met one of our kind."
"How long have you been here?"
Soro's expression dimmed.
"Five years... and counting."
Rowena's mouth parted. "Five-?"
"My parents broke the Circle's law," he said softly. "Dad married a woman from a rival line. Their packs cast them out. Threats followed. We ran."
The Circle. The highest authority among all wolves. Breaking its laws was unforgivable.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"We all carry something," Soro murmured. Then he met her eyes and added, "But listen, Rowena. Learn to blend in. This world isn't kind to wolves... especially ones who stand out."
She swallowed. "I've tried. Humans are exhausting."
"There's a reason I stayed here," he said cryptically. "A reason I can't leave."
Before she could ask, he shifted into his wolf form and vanished into the trees.
Just like that... he was gone.
But something about Soro lingered in her chest. A pull. A whisper. An unfinished story.
---
When Rowena returned home, dinner was already served. Her mother hummed softly in the kitchen, but her father sat rigid at the head of the table-jaw tight, gaze distant. They called this place "home," but it felt anything but.
Their house stood like a shadow over the neighborhood. Black and white walls. Tall, tinted windows. An architecture that unsettled people. Kids whispered it was haunted. Adults avoided it after sunset.
School wasn't much better.
Students either ignored her or stared like she was a museum exhibit. Whispers followed her everywhere.
> "Her hair's so weird."
"She talks like she's from another century."
"Freak."
Her wolf-blooded features-too sharp, too bright, too otherworldly-made her impossible to blend in.
And then there was Ella.
Perfect, polished, cruel Ella. Every insult was a dagger aimed to wound.
One day, Ella bumped her shoulder deliberately.
"Careful, Devil's spawn."
Rowena snapped.
Her instincts surged before her mind could intervene. She grabbed Ella's arm-and bit her. Hard.
A true LUPIVORA bite.
Venomous. Fever-inducing. Hallucination-triggering.
The school erupted in panic. She was summoned to the principal's office. Her father stood beside her, silent and cold as stone.
> "Mr. Aiden, your daughter assaulted another student," the principal said. "This is the final straw."
> "She's been trouble since the first day," the assistant principal added.
Rowena stood outside the door, listening. Her father's voice was quiet, weary.
"It's fine. I've heard enough."
He walked out without a backward glance.
That day marked the end of her time at that school.
What no one knew was that Ella's bite wasn't the end-
It was only the beginning.