Chapter 17
1751 Words
The Secret Library
The howl echoed through White Fang Territory long after the sound itself had faded.
It lingered.
Like a warning.
Like a promise.
Like the beginning of something dangerous.
Standing on the palace balcony, Summit Angel Warm watched the distant mountains while cold wind swept through her hair. Beside her, Froz White Fang remained completely still. His blue eyes narrowed toward the northern border.
The playful Alpha who spent mornings tormenting her with training had vanished.
This was the future ruler of White Fang.
The Alpha feared by neighboring clans.
The Alpha whose name made enemies hesitate.
“What was that?” Sam asked quietly.
Froz didn’t answer immediately.
His gaze remained fixed on the darkness.
Finally—
“A scout.”
Sam frowned. “A scout?”
The Alpha nodded. “Someone crossed our border.”
The seriousness in his voice made her stomach tighten.
Immediately.
The night suddenly felt colder.
Much colder.
“From the Woods Clan?”
A pause.
Then—
“I don’t know.”
And somehow that answer was worse.
Because if even Froz didn’t know—
The situation was dangerous.
Very dangerous.
The next morning—
Sam expected another exhausting training session.
She was wrong.
Surprisingly wrong.
The moment she arrived at the training grounds—
Nobody was there.
No warriors.
No Metro.
No Froz.
Nothing.
Only empty snow.
Sam blinked.
Then blinked again.
Suspicious.
Very suspicious.
The Alpha never canceled training.
Never.
The man probably trained while sleeping.
A voice suddenly interrupted her thoughts. “Looking for someone?”
She spun around. Froz stood several feet away. Dressed entirely in black.
Not training clothes.
Not battle gear.
Something else.
His expression looked unusually serious.
Immediately.
Sam narrowed her eyes. “What happened?”
The Alpha studied her for several seconds.
Then—
“Come with me.”
Now she was even more suspicious.
Ten minutes later—
They stood before a massive wooden door hidden deep within White Fang Palace.
Sam stared.
Confused.
Because she had never seen this section of the palace before.
Not once.
The corridor itself looked ancient. Dust covered the stone walls. Silver torches flickered softly.
Everything felt old.
Forgotten.
Secret.
“What is this place?”
Froz placed a hand against the door.
“The royal archives.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “The what?”
The massive doors slowly opened. A rush of cool air escaped from inside.
Then—
Sam forgot how to breathe.
Rows.
Thousands of rows.
Bookshelves stretched endlessly into darkness.
Ancient scrolls.
Old journals.
Maps.
Records.
Documents.
Books older than entire territories. The enormous library looked more like a hidden kingdom than a room. Her jaw dropped.
Completely.
“This…” She looked around.
Speechless.
“…is incredible.”
For the first time all morning—
A small smile appeared on Froz’s face. “I thought you’d like it.”
Sam immediately turned toward him. “You knew about this the whole time?”
“Yes.”
“And never told me?”
“Yes.”
She gasped dramatically.
The betrayal.
The absolute betrayal.
Froz ignored her.
Naturally.
Hours passed. The deeper they searched, the stranger everything became. Ancient records covered the tables. Dusty scrolls surrounded them.
Open books formed towering piles.
The entire archive looked like it had exploded.
And somehow—
The explosion was mostly Sam’s fault.
“I found something.”
Froz looked up immediately.
The Alpha crossed the room.
Fast.
Very fast.
Sam pointed excitedly toward an old page.
“Look.”
The drawing showed a woman standing beneath a silver moon. Light surrounded her. Ancient symbols glowed around her wrists.
The Mark.
The exact same Mark.
Froz’s expression hardened.
Immediately.
Because this wasn’t the first time they had found references.
It was the fifth.
Every record described the same thing.
The same bloodline.
The same power.
The same legend.
Which made the next discovery even more alarming. The woman in the illustration looked familiar.
Very familiar.
Too familiar.
Sam noticed it too.
The smile slowly disappeared from her face. “She looks…”
The Alpha finished the sentence. “Like you.”
Silence.
Neither liked that realization.
Not even slightly.
By afternoon—
Frustration had taken over.
Every answer created three new questions.
The Moon Goddess.
The Mark.
The bloodline.
Nothing made sense.
Sam dropped another book onto the table.
Then groaned.
Loudly.
“I’m tired.”
Froz didn’t even look up. “You’ve been reading for twenty minutes.”
“I’ve been suffering for twenty minutes.”
“That’s different.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Sam narrowed her eyes.
The Alpha continued reading. Completely unaffected. Which somehow annoyed her more.
Much more.
Without warning—
She reached across the table and stole his book.
Froz blinked.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
The room became silent.
Dangerously silent.
Metro, who had arrived earlier carrying additional records, immediately stepped backward.
Smart man.
Very smart.
“Summit.”
“No.”
“Give it back.”
“No.”
The Alpha stood.
Sam immediately backed away. Still holding the book. The chase lasted approximately twelve seconds. Mostly because she ran directly into a bookshelf.
Unfortunately.
The impact made several scrolls fall.
One of them hit Froz.
Directly.
On the head.
Silence.
Pure silence.
Then—
Metro laughed.
Actually laughed.
The sound echoed through the archive.
Sam froze.
Froz stared.
Metro immediately stopped laughing.
Unfortunately—
The damage was done.
The memory would survive forever.
Several hours later—
The mood shifted. Everything changed when they discovered a hidden compartment inside an ancient desk. The discovery happened entirely by accident. Which was somehow unsurprising.
Because most dangerous discoveries seemed to happen around Sam. The compartment contained a single journal. Nothing else. Just one journal.
Old.
Worn.
Fragile.
Ancient silver markings decorated the cover.
The moment Sam touched it—
The Mark on her wrist burned.
A sharp pulse shot through her arm.
She gasped.
Immediately.
The journal slipped from her hands. Froz caught it before it hit the floor.
His expression darkened. “What happened?”
Sam rubbed her wrist. “The Mark reacted.”
Silence.
Heavy silence.
The Alpha slowly opened the journal. Ancient handwriting filled the pages. The language looked unfamiliar. Yet somehow—
Sam could read it.
Immediately.
Perfectly.
Which shouldn’t have been possible.
At all.
Her eyes widened. “I understand it.”
Froz looked up sharply. “What?”
“I can read it.”
The Alpha moved beside her.
Close.
Very close.
Both stared at the page.
The first line read:
To the daughters of the Moon Bloodline…
The room became completely silent.
Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
Because suddenly—
Everything became real.
As evening approached—
They finally uncovered the truth. Or at least part of it. The journal belonged to one of the last Moon Blood descendants. A woman who lived hundreds of years ago.
According to the writings—
The Moon Bloodline wasn’t merely powerful.
It was sacred.
Chosen.
Blessed directly by the Moon Goddess herself. The Mark of the Moon appeared only among direct descendants. And those descendants possessed abilities unlike any ordinary wolf. Abilities capable of influencing entire territories.
Entire wars.
Entire generations.
Sam stared at the page.
Unable to look away.
Because one sentence stood out above all others.
A sentence written repeatedly throughout the journal.
A warning.
A prophecy.
A fear.
The words chilled her.
Even before she spoke them aloud.
When the Mark returns, the North shall kneel beneath silver moonlight.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
The implications settled slowly.
Then all at once.
Froz closed the journal.
Immediately.
His jaw tightened.
Because prophecies attracted attention.
Power attracted enemies.
And if these records were true—
Sam had both.
Outside White Fang Territory—
A lone rider moved through the snowy forest.
Hidden beneath a dark cloak.
Silent.
Patient.
Watching.
The same mysterious figure from the border. The same figure responsible for the warning howl. Moonlight reflected in his eyes as he studied a folded piece of parchment.
On it was a sketch.
A young woman.
Bright eyes.
Golden hair.
A warm smile.
Summit Angel Warm.
The rider smiled.
Slowly.
Dangerously.
“So you’ve finally awakened.”
The parchment disappeared into his cloak.
His horse continued forward.
Toward White Fang Territory.
Toward the girl carrying the Mark of the Moon.
Toward destiny itself.
Back inside the palace—
The library had become quiet. The sun had long disappeared. Only candlelight remained. Soft golden light illuminated the enormous archive.
Most servants had left.
Even Metro was gone.
Only Sam and Froz remained.
Still surrounded by books.
Still searching for answers.
At some point—
The distance between them had disappeared.
Neither noticed.
Or perhaps neither cared.
Sam rested her chin on one hand while reading another page.
Eventually she sighed. “Do you ever stop worrying?”
Froz looked up. “No.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It is.”
She smiled softly.
The Alpha returned to his book.
Then paused.
A moment later—
He quietly spoke. “I’m not worried about the prophecy.”
Sam blinked.
Surprised.
“What?”
His gaze met hers.
Steady.
Certain.
Honest.
“I’m worried about what people will do because of it.”
The words struck deeper than expected. Because she understood exactly what he meant.
People feared power.
People hunted power.
People killed for power.
The realization made her chest tighten.
Then—
Without thinking—
Her hand found his.
A simple gesture.
Small.
Instinctive.
Warm.
Froz froze.
Immediately.
Sam froze too.
Immediately.
Neither moved.
Neither spoke.
The contact lasted only a few seconds.
Yet somehow—
It felt much longer.
Then slowly—
Very slowly—
Neither pulled away.
The silence that followed felt different.
Not awkward.
Not uncomfortable.
Just… right.
Dangerously right.
For a brief moment—
The prophecy.
The Mark.
The bloodline.
The enemies.
Everything disappeared.
Leaving only two wolves sitting beneath candlelight.
Together.
Then—
A loud knock shattered the moment. The library door burst open.
Metro rushed inside.
Breathing hard.
Alarmed.
Urgent.
Immediately.
Both stood.
Because something was wrong.
Very wrong.
“My Alpha.” Metro’s voice sounded strained.
The servant looked directly at Froz. Then at Sam.
And delivered the news that changed everything.
“A messenger has arrived from the Warm Clan.”
Silence.
Pure silence.
Because everyone knew what that meant.
The Warm Clan never sent messengers without reason.
Never.
And judging by Metro’s expression—
The news wasn’t good.
Not good at all.
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