The full moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the forest. The night air was thick with tension. Maxwell stood in the shadows, his eyes scanning the trees as the wolves gathered for the ceremony. It was a time for power, for transformation, but Maxwell would not be transforming tonight. He had to keep his secret hidden. The last thing he needed was for Elizabeth or Reynald to find out the truth about his abilities. His transformation would remain his alone.
As the wolves began to circle, their eyes glowing with hunger and power, Maxwell felt a strange pull inside. The ceremony was meant to crown a new leader—someone to guide them through the upcoming battles, to control the pack. He could feel their gazes on him, sensing their expectations, but his focus was elsewhere. Tonight was about more than just power. It was about control.
But not everyone could wait. Reynald, with his black eyes that glittered with suspicion and jealousy, wasn't one to let Maxwell have all the attention.
Jolie felt her heart pounding as Reynald grabbed her by the arm, pulling her through the dense woods. His grip was iron, and his eyes were burning with something that sent a chill down her spine.
"You're coming with me," Reynald snarled, his voice low and dangerous.
"Let me go," Jolie spat, trying to twist free from his grasp, but Reynald's hold tightened.
He didn't listen. Instead, he yanked her further into the darkness, where the trees closed in around them. The moonlight barely touched the ground, and the sound of her heartbeat echoed in her ears.
"Reynald, what are you doing?" she asked, trying to stay calm, though her breath came in ragged gasps.
Without warning, Reynald shifted. His body twisted and contorted, his features transforming into the savage form of a wolf. The powerful creature towered over Jolie, its black fur gleaming under the moonlight, its eyes gleaming with primal rage.
"I've had enough of your games," Reynald growled, his voice now a guttural snarl from deep within the wolf's throat. "This ends tonight."
Jolie's eyes widened, fear seizing her chest. She had never seen Reynald this way—his dark eyes, once human, now held only fury.
Without thinking, she shifted. Her body rippled, fur sprouting from her skin as her wolf emerged, the powerful creature that lurked within. But even in her wolf form, she could feel the overwhelming difference between them. Reynald was stronger—more feral.
Her mind screamed for her to fight, to run, but Reynald's brute strength was too much. She could barely hold her ground, and soon she was overwhelmed, her body slamming against a tree as Reynald's claws raked through the air.
But then something changed. The sound of furious howling filled the air—closer, louder, more urgent. The ground beneath Jolie's paws trembled. Her wolf senses sharpened. Something powerful was coming.
The trees parted with a crash. A massive, white wolf emerged from the shadows, its fur gleaming like moonlight. Its eyes—piercing blue—locked onto Reynald. The wolf was huge, easily twice Reynald's size, and it moved with a grace that was almost unnatural.
Before Reynald could react, the white wolf lunged at him, its claws flashing in the moonlight. It was an explosion of fury, and Reynald barely had time to defend himself. The white wolf's attack was swift and vicious, claws slashing across Reynald's body, leaving deep gashes.
Reynald howled in pain, stumbling back. His dark eyes widened in shock as he realized that this wolf was not something he could defeat. The creature before him was an alpha, its power overwhelming. This was not a wolf he could control.
Maxwell's name echoed in his mind, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. The white wolf's assault was relentless. With a final, brutal swipe, Reynald was sent flying backwards, his body crashing against the ground. Blood dripped from his wounds as he scrambled to his feet, gasping for breath.
Maxwell. It had to be him.
Reynald turned and bolted into the woods, barely able to stay on his feet. His instincts told him to run—to find shelter. He knew that this was a fight he couldn't win. Not yet.
He stumbled through the trees, his vision blurry. Blood was dripping from his wounds, and each breath felt like it could be his last. But his mind was fixed on one thing: Zoelle. She had to be the one to help him.
He remembered the room. Zoelle's room—where she had treated him once before. She was a doctor, and she would save him. He had to get there.
Zoelle was shocked when Reynald burst through the door, his face pale and covered in blood. He collapsed onto the floor before her, and she rushed to his side, her hands moving quickly as she assessed his injuries.
"What happened to you?" Zoelle asked, her voice trembling. She knew Reynald was dangerous, but seeing him like this, so vulnerable, triggered something she hadn't expected.
"I need you to fix me," Reynald muttered, his voice strained. His eyes, now filled with pain, searched hers. "You owe me."
Zoelle hesitated, but then she remembered—he had saved her once. This was the price she had to pay. She worked quickly, her hands moving expertly as she treated his wounds, her mind racing. What was happening? Why did she feel this strange pull toward him? He was her enemy. She knew that.
But as she finished bandaging him, Reynald looked up at her with a smile.
"I saved you twice," he said, his voice rough but playful. "You still owe me one life."
Zoelle's heart skipped a beat. There was something in his eyes—something dangerous, something she couldn't ignore.
As she left the room, she felt a pang of confusion. She hadn't been prepared for this. For him.
Zoelle rushed to Mr. Adam's office, her mind spinning. She burst through the door, breathless.
"Mr. Adam! Reynald's been attacked. It was Maxwell. I know it," she gasped, her words spilling out in a rush.
Mr. Adam's eyes sharpened as he stood up, his expression hardening. "I'll handle it. You stay here."
But Zoelle wasn't about to wait. "No! We need to stop him before he goes too far. He's rushing things. Reynald's valuable, and Maxwell's acting on impulse. If we don't stop him now, everything will fall apart."
Mr. Adam's gaze softened just for a moment. "Zoelle, I understand. But we need to be patient. Reynald has information we need. He knows more than we think."
Zoelle looked at Mr. Adam, knowing he was right, but still feeling the weight of Reynald's injuries pulling at her. She had to help him, and she couldn't shake the feeling that the truth was slipping away from her grasp.
"We'll give him time," Zoelle said, her voice quiet but firm. "We need Reynald alive for now. But we'll make sure Maxwell doesn't rush into things."
And so, the tension in the air thickened, and the shadows stretched long as the future of the wolves hung in the balance. Maxwell's rage was growing, and Reynald's dangerous game was far from over.
Zoelle couldn't shake the feeling that something dark was coming. And the battle for control was only just beginning.