Tales of Aria"Lost Heir"

Aria crouched behind the gnarled trunk of an old oak, her breath shallow, heart thudding in time with the rustling leaves. The full moon hung heavy overhead, drenching the forest in silver. It was beautiful-eerily so. Every branch shimmered, every shadow stretched like it was alive.

She'd been tracking the deer for hours. Her pulse quickened as the moon's pull grew stronger, thrumming through her veins like heat. It wasn't just the hunt-it was her. The wolf was stirring beneath her skin.

A rustle to her left. Her ears twitched.

She didn't hesitate.

Her body shifted mid-leap, bones snapping, fur sprouting, the transformation seamless and fierce. One moment, she was human. The next-a sleek, moonlit wolf, gliding through the trees like she belonged to the night itself.

The forest blurred around her. She ran fast, low to the ground, her nose twitching as the scent of prey grew stronger. Damp earth, moss, the coppery tang of fear-it filled her lungs. Every sense screamed alive.

She was the wild.

She was the hunt.

The deer darted ahead, hooves skidding in the mud. Aria surged forward, paws barely making a sound. She was faster. Stronger. Closer.

Its heartbeat pounded in her ears-erratic, terrified.

Then she leapt.

Claws out. Impact sharp. The deer hit the ground with a soft thud beneath her. Warmth. Stillness. The pulse of life slipping through her paws.

She breathed it in.

For a second, there was nothing but silence-and the rush.

But then...

Something changed.

The night went too still. No owls. No crickets. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

A chill crept up her spine.

Aria's ears flicked. She turned her head slowly, eyes narrowing. The clearing behind her was empty-but something felt wrong. The shadows stretched too long. The air was too tight.

Then it stepped out.

A massive black wolf, blood slicking its fur, eyes glowing red like burning coals.

Her body locked.

Malakai.

She shifted back into human form in a blink, crouched and tense, baring her teeth. "Malakai," she growled, voice sharp.

"Aria," he said, stepping into the moonlight. His tone was smooth, cold. Confident. "You've grown."

She didn't answer.

He did.

"I've been looking for you," he said, eyes gleaming. "Your family... has been a thorn in my side for far too long."

Her stomach turned. "What are you talking about?"

He took a step closer, slow and deliberate.

"Your father refused to hand over the Kralsar throne," he said. "So I took it."

The words hit like a punch to the chest. She didn't even think-she just ran.

Her legs moved on instinct, crashing through the trees as panic clawed up her throat. The forest blurred. Branches whipped past her face. She didn't feel them.

Home. She had to get home.

But when she did, everything stopped.

The front door was ripped from its hinges. Blood stained the steps. The scent hit her first-iron and rot-and then she saw them.

Her parents.

Torn apart. Lifeless.

She didn't scream. She couldn't. The silence inside her was louder than any sound.

Behind her, Malakai stepped out from the trees.

His voice was quiet, but it cut deep. "Now the throne is mine. And you're the only threat left."

He turned to the shadows, and black wolves emerged-silent, gleaming, golden-eyed.

"Kill her."

Aria backed away, heart thudding. Her breath hitched, and her fingers curled into claws as her wolf fought to break free again.

But there were too many. She couldn't take them all.

Not yet.

She dropped low, growled, then spun and ran. The pack gave chase instantly, their snarls echoing through the woods.

She ran faster.

Paws pounding. Heart racing. The trees closed in around her, branches slashing, the air thick with terror and the stench of blood.

They were behind her. She could feel them.

Death was close.

But she wasn't ready to die.

Not tonight.