Chapter 30 Into the Wild

Chapter 30 Into the Wild
Aethon's tone turned cooler, more hypnotic, as he proceeded with the spell.

"Luna llena, presta tu poder, Devuelve el lobo a su hogar, Con el fuego de la piedra, te llamo a volver, Lobo de Izzy, regresa a su cuerpo, haz que se sienta completa otra vez."

Izzy's pain seemed to calm, her trembling subsiding as she breathed in sync with the rhythm of Aethon's voice. Her face relaxed, her eyes still closed, as if she was slipping into a trance-like state.

Dixon's worry gave way to hope, his body relaxing as he exhaled a sigh of relief. "Thank Goddess…" He whispered, his eyes never leaving her face.

He's about to sit back down, his body hovering a hair's breadth from the chair, when Aethon's voice suddenly rose, his words spilling out like a torrent.

"Πανσέληνος, άκουσε τη φωνή μου, φώναξε τον λύκο της Ίζι, κάνε τον να επιστρέψει στη φωνή της, με τη δύναμη της πέτρας, σε καλώ πίσω, λύκε της Ίζι, γύρισε στο σώμα της, κάνε την να νιώσει ξανά ολόκληρη!"

Izzy's pain resumed, her body jerking back to life as if she'd been slapped. Her eyes flew open, her mouth gaping in a soundless scream, her face twisted in agony.

"Ahh!" She cried, her voice echoing through the space, scaring away the birds on the surrounding trees as her body arched off the ground.

Dixon's calmness evaporated, his body tensing once more as he watched, helpless, as Izzy's hurt surged, more intense than before. "No, no, no!" He shouted, his fists clenched, his heart beating with fear.

Aethon’s voice got louder still, the words pounding like a drumbeat, driving Izzy's pain higher and higher.

Her screams grew louder, her body shaking violently, as Dixon struggled to stay still, to control his emotions. But it was getting harder. The sight of Izzy's suffering was testing his resolve, pushing him to the limits of his endurance.

His control snapped, his worry overwhelming him. He hurried towards Izzy, his arm outstretched, desperate to comfort her.

Just as his arm was an inch away from touching her, the full moon burst into the sky, its silver light flooding the clearing. 

His eyes widened, his gaze snapping upwards, mesmerized by the moon's sudden appearance. It'd definitely come out tonight, but not too soon.

Aethon's warning rang loud in his mind, like a scream of caution. ‘Never shapeshift or use your inner power around her… For it'll cause you nothing but pain… one getting more intensified than never before.’

He felt a searing pain in his chest, as if his heart had been branded with a hot iron. He gasped, his hand flying to his chest, his fingers clutching at his tunic as if attempting to rip it open.

He stumbled backwards, his eyes still fixed on Izzy, his mind reeling with the agony of his own pain. And then, he turned and ran, dashing into the woods, the trees swallowing him whole as he disappeared into the darkness.

Aethon’s voice got louder, the spell intensifying, as Izzy's screams pierced the night air, mingling with the distant sound of Dixon's crashing footsteps.



Dixon pounded through the underbrush, his feet thundering against the earth as he fled the clearing. His breath came in ragged gasps.
"Not yet, not yet…" He growled, his voice rough, as he spoke to the wolf that raged within him. "Wait, just a little longer."

His muscles strained, his body tense with effort, as he fought to keep his wolf at bay. 

His fingers curled into claws, his nails biting into his palms, clenching his fists, struggling to contain the beast that threatened to burst forth.

"Shh, calm down," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart. "We'll run soon, I promise. Just not yet."

His jaw ached, his teeth grinding together as he gritted them, holding back the growl that built in his throat. His skin prickled, his hairs standing on end as his wolf pushed against the boundaries of his control, eager to break free.

"Not here, not now," Dixon muttered, his eyes fixed on the darkness ahead. "We can't risk it. Not with Izzy..."

The trees blurred together, a green-brown haze as he ran, his eyes fixed on the darkness ahead. He leapt over roots, dodged low-hanging branches, his body moving on instinct as he desperately sought to put distance between himself and Izzy.

"Soon," he promised his wolf, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "Soon we'll run, hunt, and be free. Just wait, just a little longer..."

The sounds of Izzy's screams and Aethon's chanting had disappeared, replaced by the pounding of his heart and the rasp of his own ragged breathing. His vision began to shift, his eyes taking on a yellow tinge as his wolf strained against its leash.

Dixon's grip on reality began to slip, his mind clouding with the primal urge to run, to hunt, to let loose the beast that raged within him. He stumbled, his foot catching on a hidden root, and crashed to the ground, his body skidding through the underbrush.

He pushed himself to stand, his body trembling with strain. He took a few more steps, his legs shaking. But it was no use. 

His wolf’s patient had worn thin, the call of the wild too loud to be ignored. 

He stumbled, his body beginning to shift, his muscles rippling under his skin. His face elongated, his jaw cracking as his teeth grew sharp and pointed.

“Aooo-oOOo-oOOo!” His scream turned to a howl, his voice echoing through the forest as he gave into his wolf. He dropped to all fours, his body contorting as his limbs shortened, his hands and feet turning to paws.

His clothes ripped, his body hair growing thicker, longer, as he transformed into a magnificent gray wolf. He shook himself, his fur fluffing out as he let out a triumphant howl, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

For a moment, he stood still, as he savored the freedom of Zervaris, his wolf form. And then, with a burst of speed, he took off, racing through the forest, his paws pounding against the earth as he ran wild and free.

“Woooooo-ooo-ooo!”

The wind ruffled his fur, the trees blurring together as he sped through the darkness, his heart pounding with joy, his spirit soaring with the thrill of the hunt. His first transformation without pain exhausted him so much that he wouldn't even remember running or hunting.

He was a wolf. He was free.

As he ran for a while, a thought suddenly formed, a whisper of concern that slowed his pace. He paused, lifting his head to sniff the air, his ears perked up as he listened to his inner thoughts.

What if...what if this was how it’d be forever? Running, hiding, always on the edge of control? What if a day came when we can't escape transforming near our mate, or even in her presence?