---
The King of Wolves loomed above them, his shadow blotting out the moonlight. His golden eyes glowed with hunger, fixed on the trembling woman clutching her swollen belly.
"You think you can run from me?" his voice rumbled, sharp as thunder. "She is mine."
The pregnant woman whimpered, clutching her sister's arm. But her sister—Elna—stood in front of her, her eyes burning with desperate defiance.
"You will not have her!" she hissed, baring her teeth like a cornered beast.
The King laughed, a low, cruel sound that shook the earth. "And what will a fragile human do to stop me?"
Elna's answer was a scream. She lunged forward, her nails raking across his face. The King roared as her strike caught his eye, hot blood spilling down his cheek.
"Run!" Elna shouted, seizing her sister's hand.
They fled into the darkness, branches snapping beneath their feet, the forest echoing with the furious howls of wolves. The King's roar followed them, shaking the very trees, but his vision was clouded, his rage slowing his pursuit.
---
By some miracle, the sisters burst into the valley where the last of the human villagers had gathered. Fires burned in a wide circle, lighting the cracked statue of the Old King. The air was thick with fear.
The chief, an old man with hair like ash, raised his carved staff as the sisters stumbled into the light. The pregnant woman collapsed, crying out in pain.
"Help her!" Elna cried. "Please, help my sister!"
The chief knelt, eyes narrowing at the sight of the swollen belly. His expression grew grave. "She carries more than a child," he murmured. "She carries his blood."
A shiver spread through the villagers. Some drew back in horror, others whispered prayers under their breath.
"Then she must live," the chief said firmly, rising to his feet. "The child must live. Prepare the Seal!"
---
The villagers moved swiftly, drawing a great circle on the ground with ash and chalk, ancient runes glowing faintly in the firelight. Candles were lit, voices rose in chant, and the very air seemed to tremble.
But the ground shook again—this time from footsteps. From the forest's edge, the King of Wolves emerged, one eye bleeding, his claws dripping. He towered above the flames, fury radiating from him like fire.
"I can smell her," he snarled, his voice a weapon. "My mate. My curse."
He stepped forward, the lesser wolves at his back, growling low and hungry.
---
The chief slammed his staff into the earth. The runes blazed with white fire, rising in a wall of light. The barrier shook the sky itself as the chanting grew louder, louder, until the world seemed to split in two.
"You have taken enough from us!" the old man roared. "Tonight, the worlds divide!"
The King lunged—but the barrier erupted, throwing him and his beasts back. A chasm split the earth, sealing the wolves in their realm and locking the humans in theirs. The air shook with a final, deafening howl before silence fell.
---
The pregnant woman lay gasping, her sister clutching her hand. The villagers watched in fear and awe as the barrier's glow dimmed to nothing.
But the chief's eyes were heavy as he lowered his staff. "Do not think this is over. The curse beats inside her womb. When it wakes, he will return."
Far beyond the barrier, the King of Wolves raised his bleeding face to the blood-red sky. His voice carried through the sealed realms like smoke.
"Blood calls to blood. When the curse awakens, so shall I."
---