Chapter 3

Ayla’s breath hitched as the massive figure before her stepped forward, its dark silhouette blocking the moonlight and casting long shadows across the forest floor. The newcomer was not like the rogue wolf she had just faced. No, this figure exuded an aura of raw power, the kind that made the air thick and charged with anticipation. His amber eyes glowed like twin suns, fierce and unyielding, his body large and imposing, muscles rippling beneath a cloak that seemed to absorb the very light around him.

Ayla's pulse raced, and for a brief moment, she forgot how to breathe. The forest seemed to hold its breath along with her, the world growing quieter, as if waiting for the figure to make his move. But he didn’t.

Instead, he stood perfectly still, his gaze locked on Ayla with an intensity that made her skin prickle. He was no rogue. This was something far darker, far more dangerous.

Lucien, who had been locked in combat with the rogue wolf moments before, finally managed to toss his opponent aside. With a growl of frustration, the rogue scrambled to its feet, but it was clear who held the upper hand. Lucien wiped blood from his lips, his amber eyes flicking to the giant figure in front of Ayla.

"Move, Lucien," the massive Alpha growled. His voice was deep, rich with authority, yet laced with something darker—something that made Ayla’s stomach twist with unease. "She’s not yours."

Lucien’s jaw tightened, his posture becoming more defensive. "She’s mine to protect," he snarled, the words almost a challenge. Ayla could sense the tension building between them, a dangerous undercurrent that threatened to snap at any moment.

The massive wolf before them—a hulking beast with fur as dark as the night—tilted its head slightly, its amber eyes glowing even brighter in the shadows. "You think you have claim over her, rogue?" The words were laced with venom, and Ayla could feel the heat of the Alpha’s power pressing in on her. "You’re nothing but a broken man leading a band of lost wolves."

Lucien’s eyes flickered with fury, but before he could respond, the forest seemed to tremble again. Another howl rang through the night, echoing from a distance, a sound that made Ayla’s blood run cold. The ground shook beneath her feet, the trees swaying as if they too felt the weight of the impending battle.

"Stay close," Lucien growled, his voice laced with urgency as he moved to shield Ayla. "Do not leave my side."

Ayla’s heart pounded in her chest, but she didn’t argue. The air around them seemed to warp and shimmer with a strange energy, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something far more dangerous than the rogue wolves was approaching.

In the distance, the forest was alive with movement. Shadows shifted in the trees, and a new, unfamiliar scent reached her nostrils—a thick, heavy musk that made her skin crawl. She had never smelled anything like it before. It was as if the forest itself had been infected with a darkness that was spreading, consuming everything in its path.

Lucien’s eyes narrowed. "They’ve come," he murmured, more to himself than to Ayla. "I should’ve known."

Ayla turned to him, confusion and fear swirling inside her. "Who are they? What is this?"

Lucien didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stepped forward, his hand brushing the hilt of the sword at his side. "The High Council," he muttered. "The most dangerous faction of wolves. They’re hunting you, Ayla. And they won’t stop until they have you."

Ayla’s mind whirled as she processed the weight of his words. "The High Council? Why? What do they want with me?"

Lucien’s gaze softened, but only for a moment. "You are the key, Ayla. The last of the bloodline—the one foretold to unite the werewolf clans. The High Council seeks to control you, to bend you to their will. They won’t let you go easily."

Ayla took a step back, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She could feel the weight of the prophecy on her shoulders now—an expectation that had always been too heavy to bear. But she had never imagined it would draw the attention of something this dark, this powerful.

Another howl split the air, closer this time, followed by a sudden rustling in the trees. From the shadows, figures began to emerge—wolves, but not like any she had seen before. Their eyes glowed a sickly yellow, their fur matted and twisted. They were more like beasts than wolves, creatures of nightmare that seemed to defy nature itself.

Lucien’s grip tightened around the sword, his face set in a grim mask of determination. "Get ready," he growled. "We fight."

Ayla’s heart hammered in her chest as she watched the advancing figures. Her power still buzzed faintly beneath her skin, but she had no idea how to wield it. She was just a girl, thrown into a war she didn’t understand, and now, surrounded by these monstrous wolves, she feared she was about to lose everything.

The Alpha, who had been watching them closely, stepped forward, his massive frame blocking Ayla’s view of the advancing beasts. "Lucien," the Alpha said with a growl, "this isn’t your fight anymore. The High Council doesn’t care about your pack. They want the girl."

Lucien’s eyes blazed with fury. "She’s not just a pawn to be used. She’s mine to protect."

Before the Alpha could retort, the rogue wolves surged forward, and the battle began. The air was thick with the sounds of snarls and claws slashing through flesh, but Ayla barely registered the chaos around her. Her eyes were locked on the advancing wolves—the High Council’s warriors—whose presence seemed to warp the very air itself. Each step they took left an imprint of dread, as if they were not merely wolves, but harbingers of something far darker.

Ayla could feel it. The darkness was closing in.

Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain in her chest, a pull toward the very heart of the forest. It was a strange sensation—unlike anything she had felt before. Her power surged again, stronger this time, calling to her in a way she couldn’t comprehend.

"Lucien!" she gasped, her voice trembling as the force pulled her forward. "Something’s happening. I can feel it."

Lucien’s head snapped toward her, his expression a mixture of concern and fury. "Get back!" he shouted. "Stay close to me!"

But it was too late. The ground beneath Ayla’s feet cracked open, and with a scream, she was pulled into the depths of the earth.