Episode 10: His Wolf, Her Pulse
800 Words
Anita sat on the stairs long after the blood dried.
Her body wouldn’t move. Her breath came in short, shaky gulps. Her fingers trembled like they were holding invisible flames. And deep beneath her skin… something was shifting.
Arthur was quiet.
He hadn’t left the living room. He hadn’t tried to explain. He stood near the broken window, staring into the night like it owed him answers.
She finally spoke. “You killed them.”
He turned his head. “I protected you.”
“There’s blood on the walls.”
“There would’ve been more if I hadn’t.”
His voice wasn’t cold. It was calm. Controlled. But behind his eyes, she saw the war. The beast he had to keep on a leash.
Anita slowly rose to her feet and walked down the stairs. Every step felt like walking into another life — a new version of herself that hadn’t existed the day before.
She looked at the mark glowing faintly under her shirt. Then at the bodies.
“Are they…” She hesitated. “Were they human?”
Arthur shook his head. “They were half-shifters. Failed experiments. Designed to track your bloodline.”
She blinked. “Experiments?”
He nodded. “By a rogue pack. One that believes you don’t deserve your inheritance. They’ve been waiting for a Luna to rise.”
“Why me?”
“Because your wolf is pure. White. Rare. Royal.” His voice lowered. “And because you’re mine.”
Anita's chest tightened. “Don’t say that.”
“You can feel it too. The pull.”
She did. That was the worst part.
Even now, after everything — the blood, the fear, the confusion — she still felt the magnetic pull to him. Like her soul recognized something her mind didn’t want to admit.
Anita turned away. “I need air.”
Arthur didn’t follow. He just said, “Don’t go far.”
She stepped outside, barefoot, onto the cold wooden porch. The night air bit at her skin, but she welcomed it. Anything to cool the fire inside her.
She walked toward the woods behind the house — not far, just enough to feel the wind between the trees.
That’s when she heard it.
*Her name.*
Not aloud. Not spoken. But inside her mind.
*Anita.*
She froze.
“Who’s there?”
Silence. Then another whisper.
*Come home.*
Her knees buckled, and she gripped the trunk of a tree. Her eyes blurred, her heart pounding too fast. Then she saw it — a flicker of light deeper in the forest. A glow. Familiar.
It looked like the dream.
The clearing. The moon. The voices.
“No,” she whispered. “This isn’t real.”
But her legs moved anyway.
She stepped into the trees, toward the light, drawn like a moth to flame. The whisper came again.
*Anita… daughter of the moon…*
Suddenly, strong arms grabbed her from behind.
Arthur.
“Are you insane?” he snapped. “What are you doing out here alone?”
“I—I heard something—”
He held her tighter. “They’re not done, Anita. That voice wasn’t yours. It was theirs. They’re trying to lure you.”
“To where?”
“To your death.”
She turned in his arms, eyes wide. “Why do they want me dead so badly?”
“Because if you live long enough to shift, you’ll be more powerful than any Alpha alive.” He cupped her face gently. “They fear you. Even if you don’t know why yet.”
Anita’s chest heaved with panic. “I don’t want any of this.”
“I didn’t either,” he said quietly. “But we don’t get to choose the blood we’re born into. Only how we use it.”
She looked into his eyes — and for the first time, didn’t just see danger. She saw pain. Regret. And something else.
Need.
Arthur’s thumb brushed her cheek. “I can protect you. But only if you trust me.”
The wind howled above them. Trees creaked. The moon broke through the clouds, casting pale light on them both.
Something shifted inside her.
Anita leaned in. Just enough to feel his breath on her lips.
“I don’t trust you,” she whispered. “But I don’t want to be alone either.”
That was enough.
Arthur pulled her close. Not with lust, but with possession — like he had waited years for this moment. His arms wrapped around her, grounding her, shielding her from a world that had lied to her from the start.
She didn’t kiss him. Not yet.
But she didn’t pull away either.
Because for once… the chaos felt bearable in his arms.
And somewhere inside her…
Her wolf stirred.
- Writer
