"The kingdom is under attack!"
The cry tore through the stone corridors, echoing against the high walls, but it was quickly swallowed by chaos. Splintering wood cracked like thunder, followed by the deafening howl of wolves—too many, too wild, too close. The sound alone was enough to turn my blood cold.
I stood frozen in the center of the grand hallway, unable to move as everything I had ever known collapsed into violence. Fur and steel clashed in a frenzy around me, palace guards shifting mid-stride, their bodies contorting as they leapt into battle. The world no longer felt real—it felt like a nightmare I couldn't wake from.
I was fifteen. By now, the wolf inside me should have been awake, alive beneath my skin, guiding my instincts and lending me strength. I should have felt something—anything—but there was nothing. Only the frantic, shallow pounding of a human heart, erratic and terrified.
I was a defect.
A princess with no claws, no teeth, and nowhere to hide.
"Mom!" I screamed, my voice breaking as panic finally forced my body into motion.
I ran.
My boots skidded against polished marble now smeared with blood, the metallic scent thick in the air, mixing with smoke and the musky stench of wet fur. A massive grey wolf burst through a tapestry to my left, its jaws snapping just inches from my shoulder. I barely managed to dodge it, stumbling forward as my pulse roared in my ears.
Everywhere I looked, there was horror. Faces I had known my entire life—tutors who had scolded me, servants who had raised me, friends who had laughed with me only yesterday—were now screaming, running, or being dragged down beneath snapping jaws.
I pushed through the chaos, blinking against the sting of smoke as it burned my eyes. Then I saw her.
At the far end of the gallery, my mother moved like a force of nature, her silver wolf cutting through the attackers with brutal precision. She was fury and grace intertwined, her claws tearing into anything that came too close as she fought to hold the line.
"Mother!" I cried, hope surging so suddenly it made my chest ache.
If I could just reach her—if I could just get to her—I would be safe.
I ran faster, closing the distance, my lungs burning, my legs shaking beneath me.
I never made it.
Something slammed into my side with crushing force, knocking the breath from my lungs. I hit the ground hard, pain exploding through my ribs as I tumbled across the cold stone floor. The world spun violently, and for a moment I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but gasp.
When I finally managed to lift my head, a massive black wolf stood between me and my mother.
It was enormous—larger than any wolf I had ever seen—its dark fur matted, its glowing eyes fixed on me with a hunger that made my entire body go cold.
My mother saw me.
Even from a distance, I saw the change in her. Her eyes widened, fear flashing across her face in a way I had never seen before. She tried to break free, to reach me, to roar my name—but the wolves surrounding her seized the opportunity. They lunged, teeth sinking into her sides, dragging her back, holding her in place.
"No—" The word died in my throat.
The black wolf turned toward me again.
It moved slowly, deliberately, each heavy step echoing against the stone floor. I scrambled backward on my elbows, my heart slamming painfully against my ribs as terror took hold. I reached deep within myself, searching desperately for something—for a shift, a spark, even the faintest hint of the wolf that was supposed to be mine.
There was nothing.
Only silence.
I was fifteen, a princess of a dying kingdom, and I was completely helpless.
The wolf's shadow fell over me as I backed into the rough stone wall. My heels crushed the delicate white lotus petals that once lined the halls—flowers that had always symbolized peace, now stained dark with blood.
"Please," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Please don't."
The words felt useless the moment they left my lips.
The wolf stepped closer, its low growl vibrating through the ground and into my bones. I could see the saliva dripping from its jaws, catching the flickering light of distant flames. My body refused to move. My lungs refused to work.
I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself for the inevitable.
Then something crashed through the air like thunder.
A sharp yelp replaced the growl.
My eyes snapped open.
A massive silver-grey wolf stood over me, its presence overwhelming, its movements swift and lethal. I had seen that form countless times before—during training, during ceremonies—but never like this.
Never with such fury.
"Father," I breathed.
He didn't look at me. He didn't hesitate. He simply lunged forward, tearing into the black wolf with brutal efficiency, ending the threat before it could rise again.
Before I could even process what had happened, a hand grabbed mine, pulling me up with urgent force.
"Elena, my child!"
My mother's arms wrapped around me, holding me tightly, her scent—lavender and steel—cutting through the chaos just enough to steady my racing mind.
"Mother… what is happening?" I asked, my voice unsteady.
I looked past her to where my father now fought multiple wolves at once. He was the Lycan King, a force to be reckoned with, but even he was being pushed back. There were too many of them.
"The kingdom is under attack," she said, her voice tight with urgency. "Strange breeds have breached the gates. We don't have time—we have to move."
Before I could respond, she shifted, her body dissolving into a powerful silver wolf in a flash of light. She lowered herself just enough for me to climb onto her back, and then we were moving—fast.
The wind whipped against my face as we tore through the palace, the smell of smoke and blood clinging to the air. From her back, I watched everything fall apart—our home, our people, everything we had ever known—engulfed in fire and chaos.
"Mother, we have to go back for Dad!" I shouted, gripping her fur tightly.
She didn't slow.
We didn't make it far.
A dark shape lunged from the shadows, slamming into her mid-stride. The impact threw me from her back, sending me crashing into a tree with bone-rattling force. Pain exploded through my body as I hit the ground, the world spinning wildly around me.
Through blurred vision, I saw her.
Surrounded.
Overpowered.
"Elena…" Her voice echoed faintly in my mind, soft and fading.
Then it was gone.
Moments later, I saw my father fall. Even in death, his gaze was fixed on her.
Something inside me broke.
I tried to move, to scream, to do anything—but before I could, something struck the back of my head.
Darkness swallowed everything.
—
I woke to the sound of quiet sobbing.
Pain throbbed through my skull as I forced my eyes open, my vision slowly coming into focus. I was no longer in the palace. The walls around me were rough stone, the air cold and unfamiliar.
Girls filled the room—some crying softly, others sitting in silence, their faces hollow and distant.
"She's awake," someone whispered.
"Where am I?" I asked, my voice hoarse, my heart beginning to race again.
This wasn't home.
It would never be home.
The door creaked open, and the room fell instantly silent.
A woman stepped inside, her heels clicking sharply against the floor, each step measured and precise. She wore a fitted black dress, her red hair pulled back so tightly it seemed to strain against her skin. Her gaze swept over us, cold and assessing, as if we were nothing more than objects.
She stopped in front of me, a slow, unsettling smile spreading across her lips.
"Welcome to your new home, dear."