Moonlit Prophecy: A Witchs Curse A Wolfs Redemption

The forest was silent save for the soft crunch of fallen leaves beneath Fenris’s paws. Moonlight filtered through the canopy, casting dappled shadows across his silver-gray fur. His amber eyes scanned the undergrowth, alert for any sign of prey or danger. It had been three moons since he’d left his pack, three moons of solitude and survival in the wilds.

Fenris paused, lifting his muzzle to scent the air. The rich aroma of earth and decaying leaves filled his nostrils, along with something else—something familiar. His muscles tensed as he recognized the scent of his former packmates. They were close, too close for comfort.

A twig snapped in the darkness, and Fenris whirled around, hackles rising. From the shadows emerged a large black wolf, his lips curled back in a snarl. Fenris recognized him immediately: Ragnar, his former alpha and once-trusted mentor.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

“So, the traitor returns to our territory,” Ragnar growled, his voice dripping with contempt. “Have you come to beg forgiveness, Fenris?”

Fenris stood his ground, meeting Ragnar’s gaze without flinching. “This isn’t your territory, Ragnar. I’m well beyond the pack’s boundaries.”

Ragnar’s laugh was a harsh bark. “Our boundaries have expanded since your… departure. And soon, they will encompass all the surrounding forests.”

As he spoke, more wolves melted out of the shadows, encircling Fenris. He recognized them all—wolves he had once called family. Now their eyes gleamed with hostility and hunger.

“You always were ambitious, Ragnar,” Fenris said, his voice low and controlled despite the fear clawing at his insides. “But this is madness. The other packs won’t stand for such expansion.”

A lean, gray wolf to Fenris’s left snarled. “The other packs will fall in line or be destroyed. Our numbers grow stronger every day, while you waste away alone in the wilderness.”

Fenris’s gaze flickered to the speaker. “Is that what he’s told you, Gunnar? That I’m wasting away?” He allowed a note of pity to enter his voice. “Can’t you see how he’s twisting your minds, turning you into nothing more than his puppets?”

Ragnar’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Enough! You lost the right to question our ways when you abandoned the pack. Your actions brought shame upon us all, Fenris. It’s time you paid for your betrayal.”

With a snarl, Ragnar lunged forward, his massive jaws snapping at Fenris’s throat. Fenris barely managed to dodge, feeling the rush of air as Ragnar’s teeth closed on empty space. In an instant, the clearing erupted into chaos as the rest of the pack joined the attack.

Fenris fought with all the skill and ferocity he possessed, but he was hopelessly outnumbered. Teeth tore at his flanks, claws raked across his back. He managed to land a few solid blows of his own, hearing yelps of pain as his own teeth found purchase in flesh.

As he struggled, memories flashed through Fenris’s mind—memories of the night he’d left the pack. He saw again the horrified faces of the human villagers as Ragnar led the pack in a ruthless attack on their settlement. He heard the screams of the innocent, felt the revulsion as Ragnar ordered them to slaughter even the children.

That night, Fenris had made a choice. He’d turned on Ragnar, giving the villagers a chance to escape. In doing so, he’d sealed his fate as an outcast, a traitor to his own kind.

A particularly vicious bite to his hind leg brought Fenris crashing back to the present. He stumbled, momentarily losing his footing, and Ragnar seized the opportunity. The alpha’s weight slammed into Fenris, pinning him to the ground.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” Ragnar snarled, his hot breath washing over Fenris’s face. “I’ll tear you apart slowly, make you suffer for your disloyalty.”

Fenris struggled beneath Ragnar’s bulk, his mind racing. He knew he couldn’t overpower the alpha in a direct confrontation. If he was going to survive, he needed to outsmart him.

“You call me disloyal,” Fenris gasped, “but it was you who betrayed everything our pack once stood for. We were protectors, Ragnar. When did we become murderers?”

Ragnar’s eyes blazed with fury. “We became strong! The humans fear us now, as they should. Their fear keeps them in line, keeps them from encroaching on our territory.”

“And what happens when fear turns to hatred?” Fenris countered. “When they band together and come for us with their weapons and their fire? You’re leading the pack to destruction, Ragnar.”

For a moment, doubt flickered in Ragnar’s eyes. It was all the opening Fenris needed. With a surge of desperate strength, he twisted, sinking his teeth into Ragnar’s foreleg. The alpha howled in pain and rage, his grip loosening just enough for Fenris to wriggle free.

Fenris scrambled to his feet, blood matting his fur. He knew he couldn’t win this fight, not against the entire pack. His only hope was to run.

“Stop him!” Ragnar roared, but Fenris was already in motion.