Wolves Of Spirit and Blood

Chapter 4

The dream started as a memory. I was walking through the woods behind my grandmother’s house, the air crisp and fragrant with pine. The trees whispered with the wind, their shadows long and strange in the moonlight. This place was familiar, safe, a sanctuary where I’d spent countless hours with Greta. But something was off. The comforting silence was broken by a faint crackle, like static. The air thickened, charged with energy, and a faint silver mist curled around my feet. I froze, my heart pounding in the unnatural stillness.

“Maria…” The voice wasn’t human. It was guttural, almost melodic a sound that vibrated through my chest. I turned sharply, my breath catching in my throat. Standing a few paces away was a wolf unlike any I had ever seen. Massive, her fur shimmered like frost under the moonlight, each strand catching the light as though it were spun from silver. Her eyes, deep and golden, radiated an ancient, knowing power. “Greta?” I whispered, the name tumbling from my lips before I could stop it. The wolf dipped her head in a slow nod, her expression solemn. Though her form was different, I knew it was her. Greta’s wolf. The part of her I had never seen while she was alive, but now felt as natural as breathing.“You are at the edge, child,” her voice echoed in my mind, rich and commanding. “The edge of what you were and what you are meant to become. Embrace the gifts passed down to you, or you will falter.” I opened my mouth to respond, but the words stuck in my throat. My instincts screamed to run, to flee from this vision, but my feet remained rooted to the forest floor. “Your strength lies in knowing who you are and where you came from,” Greta continued, her gaze piercing through me. “But strength untempered is dangerous. You must learn control, or the power will consume you.” “Control?” I croaked, my voice barely audible. “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do.” “You will,” she said. “But only if you open yourself to the truth.” The mist thickened suddenly, curling around her form until she was nothing but a blur of silver and gold. Her voice echoed one last time, her tone both a warning and a challenge: “Find your balance, Maria. Or risk losing everything.”

I jolted awake, my chest heaving. The pale light of dawn seeped through the curtains, but the weight of the dream lingered like a second skin. Greta’s words swirled in my mind, repeating over and over. Find your balance… Or risk losing everything.

The training field was already bustling with activity when I arrived. The air was filled with the rhythmic thud of fists hitting targets and the low growls of sparring wolves. Beta Romero stood at the center, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over the pack members. His sharp gaze cut through the morning haze, landing on me as I approached. Andre was lounging by the weapon racks, his arms crossed casually as he observed the chaos. The moment he saw me, a smirk curled on his lips.

“Well, look who decided to show up,” he called out, his voice laced with mockery. “Ready to impress us with your wolfy outbursts, superstar?”I shot him a glare but kept my mouth shut. If I snapped now, I’d only give him more ammunition.

Romero stepped forward, his expression unreadable as his eyes scanned me from head to toe. “Maria, your wolf is strong,” he said, his tone measured. “But strength without control is a liability. Today, we focus on the basics. You’ll run with the pack, spar, and learn discipline.”The pack members exchanged knowing glances, amusement flickering in their eyes. They didn’t need to say it aloud, I knew they expected me to fail.

As we began warm-ups, Andre leaned in close, his voice low enough that only I could hear. “Don’t worry, Maria. If you trip, I’ll make sure no one laughs. Too hard.” “Thanks for the support,” I muttered through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to shove him. The run was grueling, the sparring even worse. My muscles screamed with every movement as I ducked, blocked, and struck. It was never enough. Every misstep was met with a sharp critique from Romero or another cutting comment from Andre.

“Keep your guard up, princess.”

“Is that all you’ve got?”

“Careful, or you’ll end up on your back again.”

By midday, I was drenched in sweat and barely able to stand. When Romero finally called for a break, I collapsed onto the grass, my chest heaving.

Andre sauntered over, tossing me a water bottle with a smug grin. “You’re going to have to do better than that,” he said, his tone casual but sharp. I snatched the bottle, glaring at him. “You think you’re so perfect?” “I know how to control my wolf,” he replied, his smirk fading into something more serious. “Maybe if you stopped feeling sorry for yourself, you’d get there too.” His words hit harder than I wanted to admit, but before I could muster a retort, Romero barked an order, and we were back to training. By the time evening rolled around, I could barely walk. My limbs felt like lead as I trudged toward Stella’s house, desperate for a reprieve. Stella opened the door before I could knock, her warm smile a balm against the day’s harshness. “You look like you’ve been through a war,” she said, stepping aside to let me in. “Feels like it,” I muttered, sinking into the couch with a groan. Her house smelled of lavender and old books, a comforting blend that reminded me of better days. She handed me a cup of tea and sat beside me, her expression soft and understanding. “How’s training?”

“Exhausting,” I admitted. “Andre’s insufferable, and Romero’s relentless. But… I guess it’s necessary.”

Stella nodded, her gaze thoughtful. “You have a lot to prove, Maria. Not just to them, but to yourself.”

Her words struck a chord, and I found myself staring into my tea, the warmth seeping into my hands. “It’s not just that,” I said quietly. “It’s my father. Ever since my mom died, it’s like… he doesn’t know how to look at me. Like I remind him of everything he lost.” Stella placed a hand over mine, her touch grounding me. “You don’t remind him of what he lost. You remind him of her strength. Matteo doesn’t show it, but he’s proud of you. He’s just… not good at saying it.” A lump formed in my throat. “I don’t even know if I’m doing any of this for me or for him.” “You’ll figure it out,” Stella said softly. “But don’t forget you’re not alone. You’ve got me. And Luigi, for what it’s worth.” A faint smile tugged at my lips. “Luigi’s great at comic relief.” “Exactly,” Stella said with a grin. “Everyone plays their part.”

For the first time in days, I felt a sliver of peace.