Chapter 13: The Becoming
Zach's Point of View
The forest had become both my prison and my sanctuary.
Each passing day, the trees grew taller in my memory, their shadows deeper, their voices carried sharper in the wind. The mountains no longer felt foreign to me—they breathed in rhythm with me, sensing the creature I was slowly becoming. Time here was fluid, a cycle of survival, silence, and self-discovery. I was no longer just healing. I was transforming.
The third moon of the season had risen when Luna returned once again, her presence slipping into the clearing without a single footfall. The forest seemed to recognize her first, leaning in, holding its breath, listening. It was always like this: the wind sharpened, the pine needles trembled, and the air hummed with something ancient, something potent.
I stood barefoot beside the stream, where the cold water swirled over the rocks, biting at my skin. I had been practicing balance, strengthening the limbs that would soon carry me through battles I had only dared imagine. My muscles trembled from exertion, my skin flushed with effort, and my wolf stirred restlessly, craving release.
"You heard her thoughts," Luna said, stepping into the moonlight like she had been conjured by the murmurs of the forest. Her voice carried neither softness nor warmth—only purpose, sharp and commanding. "Mother Zita told me."
I nodded, the memory of that ear-splitting whistle still vivid in my mind. "It wasn't intentional," I muttered.
"It never is," she replied. Her silver eyes reflected the moonlight, piercing through me as though seeing not just my body, but the fracture lines in my soul. "The gift of mindsight is rare, Zachary. It awakens without warning… and it doesn't come without cost."
I looked down at my hands. They were calloused, trembling slightly. My body had endured so much, but my mind felt like a fragile shard, and the thought of this new, uncontrollable power frightened me more than any claw or fang ever could.
"I don't want it," I admitted.
Luna moved closer, steps silent over the moss and frozen leaves. "Then you will drown in it," she said. Her words hit me like stone, knocking the air from my lungs.
I clenched my fists. "Then teach me."
She gave a slow nod, as if she had expected nothing less, and turned toward the thicket behind her. "Follow me. Tonight, you'll learn what it truly means to carry blood that the world wants either controlled… or destroyed."
I followed her through the dense forest, my senses stretching, straining with every rustle of leaf and snap of branch. My wolf urged me forward, its instincts sharpened by every movement, every scent, every whisper of the night. Finally, the trees gave way to a moonlit clearing.
Ancient stones stood in a circle, jagged and worn like forgotten gods. The air was thick with an energy that pressed against my chest, something older than the Northern lands, older than my pack, older than me. My heart pounded in response, echoing the call of the wolf within me.
"This," Luna said, gesturing toward the circle, "is where wolves remember who they are."
I stepped into the center, my breath fogging in the icy night air. The earth beneath my feet thrummed faintly, like the heartbeat of something enormous and sleeping. My pulse echoed against it.
"You've shifted before, yes?" Luna asked. Her voice was steady, but her gaze was keen, watching me with the precision of a predator reading a prey's every twitch.
I hesitated. "Once. But… it was chaotic. I was half-dead. Half-mad."
She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing in thought. "Tonight, you face it sober. Whole. A true transformation is not just flesh and bone. You must surrender to the beast… without losing yourself."
Silence stretched over the clearing, broken only by the soft sighing of the wind through the pines.
Then, she raised her hands and spoke in the Old Tongue—a language foreign to me but ancient, heavy with power. The stones pulsed faintly, emitting a pale blue glow. The forest responded: the wind lifted, the leaves quivered, and the scent of earth and pine intensified.
"Strip away your fear," she commanded. "Feel what lies beneath the skin. You are no longer boy nor heir. You are wolf."
I closed my eyes.
At first, there was only the rhythm of my breath, the shiver of cold against my skin. Then came the fire. A slow burn that crawled through my bones, molten and unrelenting. My spine arched involuntarily, muscles stretching, tearing, and reforming with a pain so exquisite it was almost divine. Every nerve screamed, and yet I could feel the awakening of a power I had never known.
My scream shattered the stillness, echoing off the trees, a sound raw and untamed.
The boy inside me fought to cling to the edges of consciousness, but the wolf surged forward, flooding my senses. The world became alive with sound, smell, and vibration: Luna's heartbeat a mile away, the rustle of a rabbit hiding in the underbrush, the tremble of the earth beneath me.
When the pain subsided, I opened my eyes. I was on all fours. Taller, stronger, every sense magnified beyond comprehension. My coat was dark as midnight, streaked with silver along my back and shoulders. I was no longer human. But I was not simply a wolf either. I was something in between, something formidable.
Luna stepped forward, unfazed by the creature I had become. "Good. You held onto your mind," she said. "More than most can on their first real shift."
I lowered my head slightly, panting, and realized I could feel her thoughts—impressions, not words, sharp and alive. Power. Fear. Destiny.
She laid her hand on my fur. Her thoughts sharpened, a stark command, a plea: You must survive, Zachary. Even if the world must burn around you.
The wolf inside me shivered in recognition. This was no longer just about survival. This was about war. About vengeance. About reclaiming what had been stolen from my pack, my family, my life.
Slowly, painstakingly, I shifted back to my human form. The pain dulled, leaving me breathless, exhausted, and half-naked in the frost-tinged dirt. Luna draped a heavy cloak over my shoulders without a word.
"Each time it becomes easier," she said softly. "But you must never let the wolf rule without reason. Even the strongest alphas have been lost to madness."
I met her gaze. "Why are you helping me? Why risk hiding me when the Western Pack wants me dead?"
Her eyes softened, a flicker of the woman beneath the legend. "Because your mother was my sister—not by blood, but in spirit. And because I saw what's to come."
"You saw it?" I asked, my throat dry, my hands clenching the fabric of her cloak.
A ghost of a smile touched her lips. "A vision. Packs falling, continents burning, the world crumbling. And at the center… a boy with fire in his eyes and voices in his head. The last heir of the North. The only one who can stop what is coming."
The wind stilled.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "And if I fail?"
Her smile remained, but it did not reach her eyes. "Then we all fall."
⸻
That night, I sat outside the bungalow, my body aching, every bone whispering in protest. The shift had left me raw, exhausted, and profoundly aware of the wolf inside me. Mother Zita placed a warm bowl of stew beside me. She didn't speak, didn't need to. But this time, I could hear her thoughts clearly.
You are changing. Becoming something… dangerous. But I do not fear you.
I looked at her, startled. She didn't meet my eyes. Instead, she reached out and patted my arm, a simple gesture that carried more comfort than words ever could.
For the first time in these woods, I didn't feel alone. The forest hummed around me, alive with energy, my wolf shifting in harmony with the earth, the stones, the trees, and the presence of those who had protected me.
I was no longer just Zachary Artesian, the boy who had run from death. I was becoming something more—a warrior, a survivor, a creature of power forged in pain and purpose.
And as the moon climbed higher, casting silver light across the pines, I realized the truth: the world would come to know me. Not just as the last heir of the North, but as something far greater… far more terrifying.
Because I was no longer only human, no longer only wolf. I was both—and neither. I was becoming the storm the world had feared, the fire the Western Pack could not control, and the shadow of destiny that no one could escape.
And I was ready.
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