The White Wolf

Chapter 5 - 422 years old

Morgan sat stiffly in the chair opposite Anna, the small space between them feeling heavier than the air should allow. Anna perched on the edge of Morgan’s bed, close enough that their knees almost touched, Sophie curled asleep beside her. The room was quiet, too quiet, and Anna’s eyes were fixed on her with that sharp, unblinking focus Morgan had come to dread.

She wasn’t angry.

She wasn’t accusing.

She was… concerned. And that was somehow worse.

“Morgan,” Anna had said, voice low, “you’ve been acting strange. Really strange. I need you to tell me why.”

Morgan

I exhaled slowly, bracing myself. There was no easy way to say any of this.

“Alright,” I began, voice low. “I was born four hundred and twenty five years ago. And I’m the last white wolf in existence.”

Anna didn’t move. She didn’t even blink. She just listened.

“When I was growing up, there were four wolf types — brown, grey, black, and white. Black and brown wolves are considered all mighty and strong now right. well back then the white wolves weren’t just another pack. We were… different. Bigger. Faster. Stronger. And the royal bloodline. We were the rulers of all wolves and that could only come from white wolves.”

Anna frowned. “That’s unfair.”

I huffed a humourless laugh. “It was the rule the Royal Council created long before I was born. They believed only white wolves had the strength to lead. And honestly? Back then, they weren’t wrong. Some of us were born with abilities. Gifts. Magic.”

Anna’s eyes widened, but she stayed quiet.

“I grew up in England,” I continued. “In a place called Haerford. It was a gorgeous fortress — massive, ancient, terrifying to anyone who didn’t live there. But my parents… they tried to change that. They wanted the palace to feel alive. Warm. They treated the staff like family. They wanted the world to see that the royal bloodline wasn’t a vicious monastery.”

“That’s… actually really sweet,” Anna murmured.

“It was. They were” I said softly.

I swallowed, pushing past the ache in my chest.

“My mother was Queen Sarina Majora Amoret. She was beautiful. Kind. The sort of queen people wrote songs about. My father was Lucian Nikko. In any other house, in any other time, a wife would have taken his name. But the Amoret legacy bows to no one. The Royal line is an ancient, unbreaking chain, and if he wanted to stand beside the Queen, he had to become part of it. So, he surrendered his name for hers. He was gentle, but strong enough to let her shine. They were… my everything.””

Anna’s expression softened.

“My parents had three daughters. The eldest was Ophelia, though we just called her Phel. My mother was a traditionalist, so she insisted on naming us in High Vargar. High Vagar being the ancient mother tongue of all wolves. She wanted names that brought light to her world, so in the old tongue, Ophelia translated to Sunshine.

Of course, when we were pups the ancient language felt stiff and archaic. We rebelled by refusing to use our full names, sticking to nicknames instead.

Phel was born to inherit the throne, but she never wanted it. Her heart was always pulled toward the humans. When she fell in love with one, she didn't hesitate. She gave up her immortality to be his wife. That has always been the Law: to love a mortal is to become mortal.”

Anna’s jaw dropped. “That’s real? I thought that was just a story.”

“It’s real,” I said quietly, confirming the myth. “Phel left the palace when she was twenty eight to live as a human. She married a man named Cassian and they had a daughter named Sophie.”

I offered a small, crooked smirk. Anna’s gaze flicked briefly to the sleeping child beside her, the parallel unspoken but understood.

“The second daughter was Liecia—which translates to Lily in High Vargar. Lil was the genius of the Amoret line. Brilliant, but… quiet. She always felt like the outsider, watching the rest of us from the edges.”

I paused, bracing myself. “And then there was me. My birth name—my true Vargar name—is Deja.” I made a face. “It translates to Flower. My mother used to coo it constantly, calling me her 'Little Deja.' But if you ever call me that, I will deny it.”

Anna burst into laughter, the sound bright in the quiet room. “A flower? You? You’re a pretty terrifying flower.”

I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. “Stop. I hate that name.”

She only giggled harder, and despite my annoyance, a tiny smile tugged at my lips.

“Anyway,” I continued, rolling my eyes but letting the smile stay. “I made everyone call me Morgan. My father used to tell me bedtime stories about a brave wolf warrior named Morgan—I’m ninety percent sure he made them up just to get me to sleep, but it worked. We were… the perfect little family, once.”

I leaned back, the nostalgia turning heavy. “There was one more. My half brother, Dane. Though we all called him Danny.”

Anna tilted her head. “What does Dane translate to?”

“Nothing. It was just an old name from the era. But it’s pronounced like Dar-nay.”

I shifted uncomfortably

“Before the palace, my father was married to a woman named Aurelia. They loved each other or thought they did and that love gave them Danny. But biology is absolute. Eventually, they both found their true mates. They separated, but without the usual bloodshed. They remained friends for Danny’s sake.”

Anna’s expression softened. “That’s… surprisingly healthy for royalty.”

I let out a dry, humourless laugh. “Healthy? It was survival. When you discover your true mate is the Crown Princess—the future Queen—you don't have a choice. It was his obligation. If he hadn’t taken his place at my mother’s side, the Royal Council would have had his head.”

I paused, my voice dropping. “But my mother… she was different. She raised Danny as her own flesh and blood. She adored him. And when the succession became a problem with Phel and Lil rejecting the crown my parents made a choice. They decided Danny would inherit the throne. They truly believed he would be a good King.”

“I bet the Council didn’t like that,” Anna guessed.

“No,” I said darkly. “They loathed it. Every ruler in our history had been of Royal blood. A King rising from common stock? It was heresy. But my parents stood firm. He was going to be King.”

I paused, letting the next part settle.

“Remember I mentioned that the Royal bloodline carried… gifts?”

Anna nodded. “Yes.”

“It’s specific to the White Wolves. We are vessels for the elements—Fire, Water, Earth, Air. Most of our ancestors held command over one, maybe two. A rare few wielded three. But there was a prophecy, older than the stones of Haerford itself. It said that if a child ever commanded all four, they would be the Apex. They would rule not just the White Pack, but all wolves—Black, Brown, and Grey alike. Regardless of birth order. Regardless of gender.”

Anna leaned forward, her breath hitching.

“We all had the blood,” I continued. “Phel could call the Water and the Air. Liecia was grounded in Earth. And me… well by seven, I summoned Fire. By eleven, I held three. And on my thirteenth birthday, the ground shook beneath my feet. Earth. I had all four.”

Anna’s eyes widened. “You were the prophecy.”

“I was the end of Danny’s reign,” I corrected bitterely. “The Council was ecstatic; they had their Mythic Queen. But Danny… he went quiet. He realized he was being replaced. And that fear rotted him from the inside out.”

My voice cracked.

“He had been plotting since I manifested my second gift. He allied with the rebels, promising them status in exchange for the White Crown. He played the part of the loving brother until I turned fifteen. Then, he opened the gates.

“I watched masked men slaughter the staff. I watched my parents bleed out on the floor of the home they built. Liecia was dragged away, screaming, never to be seen again. And standing over it all was Danny. I was so naïve… I thought he loved me. But he hated me the moment I sparked that first flame.”

Anna’s hand flew to her mouth.

“Phel’s husband Cassian died protecting her and Sophie. Phel and I ran for years, hiding with distant relatives. As a mortal she tried to keep up and stay strong. Until Danny found us in Elderwood.”

My throat tightened.

“Phel told me to take Sophie and run to our grandmother. I refused. I wanted to stay and fight. But she pushed us away. She was done running.”

I swallowed hard.

“I watched Danny rip her head off.”

Anna gasped, eyes shining.

“I swore I’d protect Sophie. We reached my grandmother in Oakenbourne, but Danny wasn’t far behind. She dug up an ancient box — enchanted by a witch centuries ago. She told us to get inside. Said it was for emergencies.”

I closed my eyes, remembering the cold.

“The next thing I knew… everything went dark. We were frozen. Preserved. And up until recently, someone excavated the box. We thawed. Sophie survived because I believe she carries a trace of the Wolf magic. That was my life,” I whispered. “A royal family. A powerful bloodline. A world that doesn’t exist anymore.”

Anna sat in stunned silence.

“So you’re… my…” she whispered.

“Queen/ Alpha, kinda yeah” I said softly.

Anna nodded slowly. “wow Morgan I am speechless. I’ll keep your secret, I cant imagine carrying that weight alone. But… Morgan? Eventually, you’ll have to tell Felix. This pack is honest. They’ll protect you.”

“Fine,” I said. “But not yet. And only I tell him.”

“That’s fair.” She hesitated, studying me with that annoyingly perceptive gaze of hers. “But you’re still acting weird around him. And you never answered my question from this morning.”

I closed my eyes, bracing myself. “He’s my mate.”

Anna’s jaw dropped. Then she squealed — actually squealed. “That’s fantastic! Oh my god, Morgan, do you know how miserable he’s been? Finally he won’t be such a—”

“That doesn’t mean he knows,” I snapped.

She blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I told you — I’m the most powerful wolf out there. I can manipulate whether I have a scent or not.”

Anna’s eyes widened. “So Felix can’t smell the mate bond?”

“That’s correct.”

She frowned, confusion softening into something gentler. “I don’t get it. Finding your mate is supposed to be… amazing. Why are you hiding from it?”

I looked away, throat tight. “I don’t want some prophecy or magical scent telling me who I’m supposed to love.”

Anna didn’t speak right away. When she did, her voice was soft. “Yeah… sure. But that’s not the real reason. I know what someone looks like when they’re conflicted.”

Her words hit deeper than I wanted them to. I didn’t answer.

Anna cleared her throat, trying to lighten the mood. “Anyway… can you show me your powers? Please?”

I huffed a laugh despite myself. “Fine.”

I lifted my hand, palm up. A flame bloomed instantly, dancing across my skin without burning me. Anna gasped as I flicked it toward the unlit fireplace, where it roared to life.

She stared at me like I’d just handed her the moon. “I didn’t think I could love you even more.”

I laughed — really laughed — and she joined in, the tension melting into something warm and easy. Something that made my chest ache in a way I didn’t want to examine too closely.

Anna

Morgan’s laughter faded into a soft hum in my chest, warm and unsettling in a way I couldn’t name. I watched the flames she’d conjured flicker in the fireplace, but my eyes kept drifting back to her — to the way the firelight danced across her skin, to the way her shoulders finally relaxed for the first time since she’d arrived.

She trusted me.

Out of everyone in this house, she chose me.

And that did something to me I wasn’t prepared for.

I told myself it was just the weight of her story, the shock of learning she was royalty, the last white wolf, a survivor of horrors I couldn’t even imagine. But it wasn’t just that. It was the way she looked at me sometimes — like she was trying not to lean closer. Like she was afraid of something she didn’t want to say.

And the way I felt around her… gods, it wasn’t normal.

There was a pull.

A warmth.

A sense of rightness that made no sense at all.

I’d felt it earlier, when she told me her real birth name. When she trusted me with the truth. When she looked away, vulnerable and fierce all at once. Something inside me had reached for her then — instinctively, quietly, like my soul recognised something my mind didn’t.

I didn’t understand it.

But I felt it.

And when she laughed just now, really laughed, something in my chest tightened so sharply I had to look away.

I loved her even more.

The words had slipped out before I could stop them, and Morgan had laughed like it was a joke. Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t.

I wasn’t sure anymore.

All I knew was that sitting here, watching her fire burn, watching her breathe, watching her exist — it felt important. Like I was meant to be here. Like I was meant to protect her, even though she was the most powerful wolf alive.

And when she finally looked at me again, eyes soft and tired and ancient, something inside me whispered:

Yours.

I shoved the thought away so fast it made my head spin.

No.

Impossible.

Ridiculous.

But the feeling lingered anyway, warm and terrifying.

“Come on,” I said lightly trying to distract myself

Nudging her knee with mine. Pretending that the very touch didn’t send my whole body alight “If you’re done showing off, help me blow out that fire before your niece wakes up and thinks we burned the place down.”

Morgan smirked, completely unaware of the storm she’d stirred inside me.

But as she lifted her hand and the flames died instantly, I felt that pull again — quiet, insistent, impossible to ignore.

A sharp knock rattled the door.

“Mom and Dad are back. They want to see Morgan in the study right away,” Felix called from the hallway.

Anna and Morgan both exchanged a look between each other

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