chapter 4 shadows of the past

Shadows of the Past;

Elias drifted in and out of consciousness, caught between dreams and reality. Strange visions filled his mind—memories that weren't his. He saw flashes of silver wolves running beneath a blood-red moon, heard whispers of an ancient power long forgotten.

And through it all, one name echoed.

Solana.

When he awoke, he was back in the cave. The air was thick with the scent of earth and burning herbs. His body ached, but the unbearable pain of transformation had faded. He lifted his hands—no longer paws, but human once more.

Lyria sat nearby, her golden eyes watching him intently.

"You're awake," she said softly.

Elias sat up slowly. "What happened?"

"You changed," Lyria murmured. "And Fenrir saved you."

Elias turned his gaze to the entrance, where the massive wolf stood, silent and unmoving. Several other wolves lingered in the shadows—watchful, wary. Among them was a lean she-wolf with piercing blue eyes. She regarded Elias with curiosity, but there was a sharpness to her stare.

"This is Nyra," Lyria said, noticing his gaze. "She is Fenrir's second-in-command."

Nyra tilted her head. "You are an anomaly, human. The Moon does not grant her gift without reason."

Elias swallowed. "I don't even know what I am."

Fenrir finally spoke. "That will soon change."

The great wolf stepped forward, his gaze dark with meaning. "You are not the first to bear the mark of the Moon. And you will not be the last."

Elias frowned. "What does that mean?"

Fenrir exchanged a glance with Lyria before answering.

"It means there is more to your bloodline than you know."

---

The Hunter's Revenge

Far from the cave, deep in the woods, the hunters regrouped. Their leader, Marcus, nursed his wounds, his hands shaking with rage.

"That was no ordinary beast," one of the hunters muttered. "The boy—he changed."

Marcus's expression was grim. "Then he is cursed, just like the witch."

Another hunter hesitated. "What do we do now?"

Marcus clenched his jaw. "We find someone who knows how to kill them."

The men looked at him in confusion. "Who?"

Marcus's eyes darkened. "The Order of the Black Sun."

A hush fell over the group. Even among hunters, the Black Sun was a name spoken in whispers. They were not ordinary men, but zealots—warriors trained to destroy creatures of the night, bound by blood oaths older than the kingdom itself.

One hunter shifted uneasily. "If we summon them, they won't just go after the wolf-woman. They'll burn the entire forest to the ground."

Marcus spat on the ground. "Then let it burn."

---

The Phantom of Lyria's Past

Back at the cave, Elias sat beside Lyria, watching the flames flicker between them. He still felt the remnants of his transformation in his bones—a strange sense of power, both terrifying and exhilarating.

But one thing haunted him.

"Who is Solana?" he asked.

Lyria froze.

Elias saw the way her fingers tightened, the way her breath caught. She had hidden many things from him, but this—this name—struck something deep.

"Where did you hear that name?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Elias hesitated. "I… I don't know. I heard it when I was unconscious. Like a whisper in my mind."

Lyria's expression darkened. "Then it has already begun."

Elias frowned. "What has begun?"

She closed her eyes, as if gathering the strength to say what she had long buried.

"Solana was once like you," she said finally. "A man who bore the mark of the Moon. And like you, he was hunted."

Elias's heart pounded. "What happened to him?"

Lyria met his gaze, and in her golden eyes, he saw something that made his blood run cold.

"Solana was the only man I ever loved," she whispered. "And I killed him.