The night was cold. The wind blew through the trees, and the sky lay dark except for the blood-red moon shining above. A woman ran barefoot through the forest, pain rippling through every part of her body. Blood trickled down her arm as she clutched a small baby wrapped in red cloth to her chest.
The trees whispered danger, and the wind carried a low growl.
They were coming.
The wolves.
Her breath hitched. She tried to run, but it was more like a desperate stumble. Barefoot and bleeding, she pushed forward through the dark forest, each branch cutting into her skin like claws. Her heart pounded louder than the howls behind her.
She didn't care if she died. But not the baby. Not her baby.
Her breath came in short, panicked gasps, but she kept moving. The baby whimpered in her arms, and she hushed her softly, voice shaking. "It's okay… I've got you… I've got you, Sera... I will not let anything happen to you."
Suddenly, a large wolf stepped out from the trees and blocked her path. She froze. Her arms tightened protectively around the baby. She turned to run the other way, but another wolf appeared behind her. Then another. And another.
In seconds, she was surrounded.
Her hands shook as she fell to her knees, hugging the baby tightly. "Please," she cried. "She's just a baby. Please don't hurt her. Kill me if you want, but let her live… please… What's her fault? She's innocent! My baby's innocent... Please, I beg you. Don't kill my baby..."
The wolves growled deeply. One by one, they shifted into tall, imposing men with cold eyes filled with hate. One of them stepped forward. "Hand over the baby," he commanded.
Tears poured down her cheeks as she shook her head. "No… please…"
The man didn't care. He strode over and ripped the baby from her arms. "No! Give her back!" she screamed, reaching for her child. The baby cried loudly now, but the man's expression remained stone. The woman sobbed as she reached forward to grab her baby back, but another man appeared behind her.
Before she could react, he seized her by the neck and twisted hard. There was a sickening crack. The woman's eyes went wide, then she crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
The baby wailed as if mourning her mother's death. The man holding her ignored the body and walked to a nearby moss-covered stone. He placed the baby on its surface, where she squirmed helplessly in the red cloth.
His expression didn't change. He drew a sharp dagger and raised it high. But before the blade could fall, a voice shouted from the trees.
"Stop!"
A large brown wolf burst from the bushes. As it landed, it shifted into a man.
"Beta Rowan," the man with the dagger said, surprised.
Rowan stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the baby. "Don't kill her."
"Why?" the man asked, frowning.
Rowan stared at the crying child lying helpless under the light of the blood-red moon.
"Because… she's cursed."