Isabella powerful attack
Sherman’s breath caught in his throat as he thought of Isabella power.
The moonlight that spilled across the field painted her in an otherworldly glow—strong, fierce, and frighteningly calm. He had seen her fight before, but this was different. " Isabella spoke of having a secret of mine, which she is yet to expose." He nodded his head. " Meanwhile.". He paused.
His heart thudded hard, faster than reason could control. “Where… where on earth did she get this kind of strength?” he muttered, his voice barely audible, yet shaking with disbelief. “No one in the pack has ever moved like that. No one.”
Johnson, who had been standing behind him, shifted uneasily. His expression carried that same mixture of awe and fear. “I think Isabella’s been empowered by Desmond,” he whispered. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. You saw the way her energy flared—it wasn’t natural. He’s done something to her.”
Sherman’s jaw tightened. A muscle in his cheek twitched as he clenched his fists. “Then he’ll be the one to take that power from her soon enough,” he muttered, though the tremor in his tone betrayed the unease gnawing at him.
Johnson hesitated. “Are you sure he can? She’s not the same, Sherman. Whatever Desmond did… it’s changing her.”
Sherman didn’t answer. His mind was a storm. He had thought of Isabella as reckless—spirited, yes, but breakable. Yet what he’d seen tonight defied every rule, every law of nature that governed their kind. There was something ancient burning in her eyes—something that terrified even him.
" The truth here is that Anabelle has betrayed the pack. She has failed in exhibiting her strength." Johnson thought, blaming Anabelle.
" Do not make mention of Anabelle here. She is more of a betrayal to the pack." Sherman warned him
Isabella on her way from training, heard some noise around.
“ What could that be?” She paused and thought a while.
“Something’s not right,” the wolf murmured inside her mind. “We’re being watched.”
Isabella froze.
The forest was still for a heartbeat—then the silence broke.
A low growl rippled through the air, followed by another… and another. From the shadows, yellow eyes gleamed, dozens of them, circling her with predatory grace. “ Haaaaaaaa.” A group of rogue wolves—feral, untamed, their scents thick with malice, all surrounded her.
The largest among them stepped forward, its fur black as ash, eyes burning with a cruel light.
“So,” the wolf snarled, voice gravelly and filled with scorn, “this is the girl who thinks she’s stronger than her betters.”
Isabella took a slow step back, her heart hammering. “I don’t want trouble,” she said softly, though her voice wavered. “ Let me go.”
“Trouble?” The wolf laughed, a harsh, guttural sound. “You’re the trouble, little pup. A spoiled Alpha’s favorite toy who doesn’t know her place.” “ You have made yourself the goddess, and to retain this, you will have to face its challenge.” The rogue spoke to her.
A murmur of cruel laughter rippled through the pack. “ Yes, you have done enough .” The leader’s claws scraped against the ground as he took another step toward her. “Desmond might protect you inside the pack, but out here?” He grinned, flashing his fangs. “Out here, you’re mine.”
Fear struck through her like lightning. “ Let me go.” Her pulse raced, her breathing came uneven, and for a moment—just a moment—she felt the urge to run.
Then something shifted.
A sudden surge of warmth exploded in her chest, rushing through her veins like fire. The fear didn’t vanish—it transformed. “ Face them, stand courageous.” Isabella Wolf rose inside her, not trembling, but standing tall, proud, and ancient.
“We are not prey,” the voice of her wolf thundered within. “We are power.”
The leader lunged.
Instinct took over. Isabella didn’t think—she moved.
Her body twisted aside with a speed that startled even her. Her hand, half-shifted, claws gleaming under the moon, slashed through the air in one swift arc.
The rogue’s snarl cut short into a pained cry as he crashed into a nearby tree.
The others attacked as one.
Fangs, claws, and fury blurred together. Isabella’s wolf met them with elegance and wrath. She moved with the precision of a trained fighter, yet something more—something wild.
“ Let me go.” She repeated, sounding like a warning before the rogues.
Every strike she landed glowed faintly with silver light, her energy radiating power that seemed older than the moon itself.
“ You are coming with us, you witch.” One wolf leapt at her throat; she caught him mid-air, slammed him into the ground, and sent him whimpering into the shadows.
Another tried to circle behind her, but her wolf’s senses caught him before he could strike—she spun, claws flashing, eyes blazing gold.
Within minutes, the clearing was a graveyard of broken pride and defeated snarls. “ Huh!” Isabella exclaimed.
The remaining wolves backed away slowly, whimpering, their arrogance stripped. “ She defeated us.” The leader, his black fur matted with dirt, glared up at her from where he lay pinned beneath her claws.
“W-what are you?” he gasped.
Isabella stared down at him, breathing hard, her eyes glowing with that strange, ancient brilliance. “Someone you shouldn’t have tested,” she said quietly. Then, with one last growl, she released him.
The rogues fled into the darkness, tails between their legs. " Run, run." The said to each other.
" I pleaded for peace, which was rejected." Isabella reminded, the one she held.
Her wolf’s voice answered, calm and deep, gently saying“You’re awakening.”
A chill wind brushed against her skin, carrying whispers through the trees. For a moment, she thought she saw a faint, silver silhouette beside her—a tall, ancient wolf with eyes like burning stars. It bowed its head slightly… then vanished.
Isabella’s breath caught.
An ancient wolf spirit. That’s what she had seen. The same force that had once been whispered about in her pack’s oldest stories—the origin of strength, passed only to chosen bloodlines.
But how could that be her?
From the ridge above, two figures watched in silence.
Sherman’s hands trembled as he gripped the rock before him. His eyes were wide, his voice hoarse. “She—she destroyed them all. Do you see what she’s become?”
Johnson swallowed hard, nodding slowly. “That’s not just Desmond’s doing. That’s something… deeper. Something old.”
Sherman’s mind spiraled between envy and dread. “If she’s carrying the spirit of the ancients, then she’s no longer one of us,” he whispered. “She’s becoming something else. Something… untouchable.”
He tore his gaze from the moonlit clearing. “We need to warn Desmond. Before she loses control.”
But even as he said it, he wasn’t sure if his words were a warning—or a threat.
" She might expose me." Sherman whispered to himself.
Back in the clearing, Isabella lifted her face to the sky. Her wolf found Isabella worthy for her strength.
" Courage is yours." Her wolf stood proud within her, its voice steady and sure.
“This is only the beginning,” it said. " You are the strongest of all." It added.
Isabella walked with confidence back home.
Whereas, the rogue's leaders had gathered for a meeting against Isabella.
" We let her go due to our arrogance." The leady, sounded so annoying. " She won't escape the next attack." He added.
" We took the wrong part, that part seems to be her strength." Said one among the rogues.
Every other rogue looks at him.
" We need strength to fight her," the leader concluded.