Howls

Howls
The air between us grew lighter after that, jokes passed as easily, talking with him felt light, nothing like it was with Kandlin.
The air grew sharper the deeper we went, the kind of air that carried secrets in its bite. The trees thinned, and the earth beneath our boots seemed to hum with a different rhythm. I felt it before I saw it—a shift, a presence in the shadows watching, waiting.
Aiden slowed his steps, turning his head slightly toward me without breaking stride. His voice was steady, but it carried the weight of warning as all the joke and light hearted conversations thinned out.
“We’re close,” he said. “The regional Moon Pack keeps their borders tight. Once they scent us, they’ll come. Whatever happens, Advika—don’t show fear. They can smell it. And if they do, they’ll treat you as prey, not a guest.”
My throat dried at his words, but I nodded. “No fear.”
He gave me the briefest glance, his eyes softening. “Good. You’re stronger than you think. Just hold on to that.”
Moments later, they came.
From the trees, from the shadows, from the ground itself—it felt like they materialized out of air. Wolves. Dozens of them, fur ranging from night-black to snow-pale, their eyes glowing with eerie intelligence. Their paws made no sound, yet the forest seemed to pulse with their presence.
I froze, but not outwardly. My breath stayed even, my spine straight. They circled us, sniffing, their growls low but curious. One with silver fur padded closer, his nose brushing against my hand. My heart hammered, but I refused to flinch.
Aiden’s words echoed in my mind: No fear.
So I met their gazes. One by one. Steady. Calm. And somehow, they accepted it.
The growls faded. A few wolves nudged me gently with their muzzles, tails flicking in acknowledgment. A ripple passed through the pack, not of hostility but of welcome.
“She’s accepted,” a low voice came from somewhere—half-shifted, a wolf with a man’s voice. “She walks with us now.”
Relief flooded me, but it lasted only a heartbeat. Because then the wolves saw the body Aiden carried.
The shrouded corpse of their alpha.
A sound rose from the pack then—a howl, raw and jagged, splitting the night air. One wolf began, then another, until the forest itself quaked with their grief. It wasn’t just mourning—it was a storm of sorrow, anger, and love tangled together, pouring into the sky.
The sound hit me like lightning. It tore through my chest, searing and electric, awakening something buried deep inside me. My vision blurred, my skin prickled, and for a heartbeat I thought I might fall apart under the weight of it.
But instead… I felt it.
A pull. A connection. The howl wasn’t just sound—it was invitation, initiation, a call into something older and wilder than I had ever known. And something inside me… answered. Not with a sound, not yet, but with a fire that leapt awake in my blood.
When the howls finally ebbed, the wolves’ eyes turned toward me again. Not as prey. Not as stranger, but something more. I walked into the borders, before someone stopped us, taking the body from us
And I stood there, trembling not really able to say anything. The pack had fallen silent after their mourning cries, the air thick with grief that pressed down on all of us. I could still feel the echo of their howls in my bones, like something had been carved into me that I couldn’t name.
Then one of the wolves stepped forward—the silver-furred one who had sniffed my hand earlier. His eyes locked on the shrouded body slung across Aiden’s shoulders, and the air seemed to shiver around him. His body rippled, bones cracking and reshaping, fur melting away into skin.
In seconds, where the wolf had stood, there was a man. A very naked man.
My breath caught in my throat, and my eyes went wide before I forced them anywhere but on him. Heat flared in my cheeks—I couldn’t help it. I had seen shifting before, but never the… aftermath. He, on the other hand, looked utterly unbothered, as if standing bare under the moonlight in front of strangers was nothing at all.
Aiden, ever the composed one, didn’t so much as blink.
The man stepped closer, tall and broad-shouldered, his hair a messy silver that caught the moonlight much like his fur had. His voice carried the same weight as his howl, deep and steady, though now laced with anger.
“Why,” he asked, his golden eyes narrowing, “is our Alpha returning to us in death?”
The question hit like a blade. Wolves shifted uneasily around us, low growls vibrating in their throats. I could feel their suspicion, their grief sharpening into something dangerous.
Aiden shifted the weight of the body on his shoulder, his own face carved into steel. “We brought him home,” he said evenly. “He fell. But not without honor.”
The silver-haired man’s gaze flicked to me then, sharp enough to pin me in place. “And you? You walk in unafraid, you carry no wolf in your blood, yet you bring death to our gates. Who are you to us?”
My mouth went dry. I had no answer. Not one that would soothe the storm rising in his eyes.
But I stood straighter, refusing to look away this time. Because if there was one thing I remembered, it was Aiden’s warning: no fear.
Still, inside, I couldn’t stop the truth from whispering through me—
that the wolves’ grief was rightful,
that their suspicion was earned,
and that nothing we said would be enough.
“i am.. i am Lola, but i go by Advika now” they looked unmoved by my name, as though they were waiting for more “he was my step dad and i am the daughter of Samantha” i saw few others shift, making me cast my gaze to the floor.
Did they not have a sense of modesty’ i thought suddenly finding the little rocks on the floor interesting