Wolves Of The Past
1161 Words
Kael’s POV
Cael's words echoed inside me long after he spoke them.
“I saw the fire in my dream last night. It was chasing you, Mama. And it had red eyes.”
The moment he said it, something deep and primal shifted in my chest, my wolf growled, pacing, restless and on edge.
Red eyes. Draven.
I didn’t know why the name sent a chill down my spine, or why the fire in the distance made my instincts scream to run. I only knew one thing:
We were out of time.
“We need to move. Now,” Elara said, already pulling a worn satchel from beneath the floorboards.
She was a blur of motion, efficient, fast, every step calculated. Her hands trembled, but her face didn’t show fear. Just the focused calm of a mother ready to do anything to protect her child.
My child. I was still reeling from that, from him.
Cael. My son.
How had I gone so long without knowing he existed? Without feeling that connection in my blood?
I’d held him in my arms for only seconds, but it was like he’d carved himself into my soul. His scent. His warmth. His presence. I didn’t need a paternity test or a memory.I knew.
He was mine and I would die before I let anything happen to him.
“Elara,” I said, grabbing her arm gently, “tell me what we’re running from.”
She paused, and met my eyes. “I told you. Draven.”
“I need more than a name.”
Her jaw tensed. “He’s not just some rogue Alpha. He’s the source of the curse. The real power behind Seraphina’s lies. They were lovers once, before she betrayed him and took you from him.”
“Wait, what do you mean, took me from him?”
Elara stared at me for a moment like she was trying to decide whether to tell me the truth or keep me safe in ignorance.
“He’s your father, Kael.”
The air left my lungs.
“No,” I said automatically. “My father was killed when I was a baby. Seraphina raised me.”
“She raised you,” Elara said quietly, “but he made you. And now, he wants Cael, not because he loves him, but because he needs him.”
“For what?”
“To awaken the True Alpha.”
I stared at her, confused. “The what?”
Elara swung the satchel over her shoulder, motioning for me to help with the firewood panel on the floor.
“It’s an ancient spirit, older than the moon goddess, older than the packs. It was sealed centuries ago because no one could control it. But if Draven unites enough royal bloodlines, your blood and Cael’s, he can force it to awaken.”
I helped her lift the trapdoor, revealing a narrow tunnel carved into the earth. Cold, damp air drifted upward.
Cael stood quietly near the fireplace, clutching his wolf plushie, eyes too wise for his age. His dreams weren’t just dreams. He was seeing things, visions.
And if Draven was close, that meant we had minutes.
“Elara,” I said, “how long until they’re on us?”
Her eyes flicked toward the window.
“Not long. If they’ve already crossed the ward lines, they’re tracking Cael’s magic. The blood moon made it unstable.”
“And this tunnel?”
“It’ll lead us to the old forest,” she said. “It’s warded. Safe, for now.”
I moved to Cael and dropped to one knee. “I need you to be brave, okay?”
He nodded solemnly.
“I’m going to carry you through a dark tunnel. But your mom will be right behind us, and I won’t let anything happen to you.”
His little arms reached for me.
I lifted him and stepped into the earth.
The tunnel was narrow and damp, just big enough for one person at a time. Roots tangled overhead, and the walls pulsed faintly with old magic, Elara’s doing, no doubt. Cael clung to me, and behind us, Elara sealed the trapdoor with a whispered spell.
“We’ll come out at the old stone circle,” she said. “If we make it that far.”
We moved fast. Every few steps, I heard Cael whispering something into my neck, prayers, maybe. Or spells.
Then the sound hit us.
Howling.
Not like normal wolves. This was warped. Twisted.
Screams hidden in fur.
“What the hell was that?” I asked.
Elara’s voice was low and urgent. “Cursed wolves. Draven’s army. Not alive, not fully dead either.”
Another howl. It was closer now and then, I felt it.
Something brushing against my wolf. A cold, invisible touch. Not claws. Not teeth.
A memory not mine. But Cael’s.
A burned village. Blood. A throne made of bone. And eyes, red, endless, empty.
I stumbled, shaking it off.
“Keep going,” Elara said, breathless. “We’re almost there.”
The tunnel opened up.
We emerged into the forest beneath thick branches and ancient stones carved with runes. The air shimmered with warding magic.
But it wouldn’t hold.
I heard the breaking snap of trees behind us.
They were coming.
Cael squirmed in my arms. “They’re close,” he whispered. “They’re angry.”
I set him down and turned, standing in front of him and Elara.
My bones ached. My body was still healing. But I shifted anyway.
It was messy, painful, but I didn’t care.
My wolf emerged with a roar.
Elara stepped back, her eyes wide with something that wasn’t fear, but something deeper. Grief? Longing?
Cael pressed his small hands together, eyes glowing faintly.
He was doing something.
A pulse of energy burst from him, slamming into the tree line.
Silence.
Then, one by one, shapes stepped out of the shadows.
Half-rotted wolves with glowing red eyes. Dozens of them. Smoke curled from their fur. Their jaws snapped without sound.
I shifted back halfway, panting. “I can’t take them all.”
“You’re not going to,” Elara said, stepping forward.
She closed her eyes and the ground beneath her cracked with light.
Magic, real, ancient, forbidden, surged from her fingers.
The wolves stopped. Then one of them moved, not toward us, but toward Cael.
Fast. Too fast.
“NO!”
I lunged. But I wasn’t fast enough.
It leapt for him, and Cael didn’t scream.
He lifted his hand and the wolf exploded into light and ash midair.
My eyes widened. Elara caught him before he collapsed, eyes fluttering.
“He can’t hold it much longer,” she whispered.
The other wolves started howling in pain, backing away from the circle of runes.
Then…
They parted qnd from between their ranks…
He stepped into view.
Tall. Silver hair. Black armor. Crimson eyes.
Draven.
And he smiled.
“Hello, son.”
- Writer
