DREADED WOLF PRINCE

Chapter Three: The Cursed Manor

The night was thick with fog as Evelyn and Mrs. Granger made their way up the hill toward the old manor. The air felt colder with every step, as though the temperature itself was dropping in response to their approach. Evelyn’s breath came out in visible clouds, and she shivered despite the heavy cloak she’d wrapped around herself.

The manor loomed ahead, dark and imposing against the night sky, its silhouette barely discernible through the thick mist. The windows were dark, the once grand building now a crumbling shadow of its former self. Ivy crept up the sides like fingers trying to pull it back into the earth.

“This place…” Evelyn whispered, unable to hide the tremor in her voice. “It feels wrong.”

Mrs. Granger didn’t respond immediately. Her face was set, her eyes hard. She seemed to be in some kind of trance, drawn toward the manor as if something inside was calling to her. Or to them.

“You should never have come here,” Mrs. Granger finally said, her voice low, almost apologetic. “But now that you have, there’s no turning back.”

Evelyn’s stomach churned. The weight of the words hung in the air between them, and for a moment, she regretted her curiosity. But the book, the prophecy, and the whispers in the woods had been too much for her to ignore. She had to know what had happened here, to understand what was going on. And above all, she had to know if the prince was still alive.

“Why is this place so important?” Evelyn asked, trying to steady her nerves. “What’s inside?”

Mrs. Granger stopped, turning to face her. The older woman’s face was pale, her eyes shadowed with fear. “It’s not just the manor,” she said, her voice strained. “It’s the land. The forest. This place was never meant to be touched. The wolves… they protect it. They always have.”

“And the prince?” Evelyn pressed, feeling the unease crawl up her spine.

“The prince is part of it,” Mrs. Granger replied quietly. “The prophecy says he will return. But if he does, he’ll bring something far worse than just the wolves. The forest will awaken. And with it, the darkness.”

Evelyn tried to process the words. The idea of a prince returning, some kind of forgotten royal heir, seemed impossible. And yet, everything she’d seen every strange thing she’d uncovered—pointed to the truth of it.

Mrs. Granger started walking again, her pace quickening as they neared the manor. Evelyn followed, trying to ignore the creeping sense of dread tightening around her chest. As they reached the front steps, Mrs. Granger hesitated, her hand resting on the iron railing as if she was trying to gather strength.

“This place isn’t like the rest of Blackmoor,” Mrs. Granger said, her voice strained. “It’s a place of power -dark power. You must be careful what you touch. What you awaken.”

Evelyn nodded, though she wasn’t sure what Mrs. Granger meant. Everything felt like a riddle she couldn’t solve.

The door to the manor creaked as Mrs. Granger pushed it open, the sound echoing through the stillness. Evelyn followed her inside, and immediately, the air felt different heavier, thicker. The scent of mildew and decay filled her nostrils, and the floor beneath her feet groaned with each step.

The grand hall stretched before them, the once-beautiful tapestries now faded and torn, the floor covered in dust and shattered glass. It was as if time itself had forgotten this place, leaving it to rot away in silence.

“This was once the heart of Blackmoor,” Mrs. Granger said, her voice full of sorrow. “The House of Elden ruled here. Their blood ran through these halls. But now, it’s nothing more than a tomb.”

Evelyn’s eyes swept the room, searching for any sign of life anything that might tell her what had really happened here. But there was nothing. Just emptiness.

They walked deeper into the manor, the silence pressing down on them. Every creak of the old building seemed amplified, every footstep echoing through the halls. Evelyn’s mind raced, her thoughts a blur of questions she couldn’t answer. What had happened to the prince? Had the wolves really taken him? Or had something else—something darker happened to him here?

Mrs. Granger led her to a narrow staircase at the back of the hall. The stairs were steep, and the air grew colder with every step they took. Evelyn couldn’t help but feel that the darkness was closing in around her, as though the manor itself was trying to swallow her whole.

At the top of the stairs, they entered a large room. The walls were lined with bookshelves, but the books had long since rotted away. In the center of the room was a large stone fireplace, its hearth cold and empty. There was a single window, but the glass had been shattered, leaving only jagged pieces of broken glass embedded in the frame.

“Here,” Mrs. Granger said, her voice barely a whisper. She motioned to a large, ornate chest in the corner of the room. “This is where it all began.”

Evelyn felt a chill run down her spine as she approached the chest. It looked old, ancient even, its surface covered in dust and grime. Mrs. Granger stepped aside, her eyes watching Evelyn closely.

With trembling hands, Evelyn reached for the chest. The wood was cold, and she hesitated for a moment before lifting the lid. Inside, she found a collection of old, tattered papers, bound together by a faded red ribbon.

As she lifted the papers, a sense of foreboding settled over her. These weren’t just any papers—they were the same symbols she had seen in the book. The same strange language, the same cryptic messages.

She carefully unrolled one of the papers, and the words leaped off the page. There, in the faded ink, were the same words she had read before:

The child of fang and fire shall rise. He will awaken the bloodline, but the forest will claim him, unless the wolves decide otherwise.

Evelyn’s heart raced as she read the prophecy again, the weight of its meaning sinking in. The prince—the heir to the House of Elden—was more than just a man. He was something else. Something tied to the land, to the forest, to the wolves.

And now, it seemed, his return was inevitable.

The door to the room slammed shut behind them, and Evelyn spun around, her breath catching in her throat. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Mrs. Granger’s face was ashen, her eyes wide with fear.

“They’ve found us,” she whispered. “The wolves are here.”