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The First Test

Penulis: V.C Wolf
last update Tanggal publikasi: 2026-05-07 15:21:09

Morning came the way it always did now – quiet, steady, unhurried.

Sunlight slipped through the window, pooling across the floor and catching on the carved wolf where it sat on the sill. I reached for it without thinking, brushing my thumb over the smooth wood before setting it back in place. A habit now. A small anchor.

Downstairs, the main hall buzzed with the soft rhythm of routine – plates clinking, low voices, the scrape of chairs. It felt normal.

That was still new enough to notice.

I had
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  • Curse of the Moon's Bride    New Roots

    I woke to sunlight warming my face.For a moment, I stayed still, listening to the quiet sounds drifting through the pack house below – footsteps, muffled laughter, the scrape of chairs. Normal sounds. Familiar sounds.The carved wolf sat on the windowsill where I'd left it, its wooden edges glowing softly in the morning light.I reached for it automatically before swinging my legs over the side of the bed.My arm no longer throbbed constantly. When I peeled back the edge of the bandage, the wound had faded into a thin pink scar stretching across my skin. The gold beneath it remained calm and steady – no longer flaring with urgency.Healing. Slow, imperfect healing.But healing all the same.---By the time I reached the main hall, the pack house buzzed with life.Children darted between tables near the hearth while older wolves tried halfheartedly to stop them. Someone laughed loudly near the kitchens. The scent of fresh bread and cooked meat filled the air.The difference from a few

  • Curse of the Moon's Bride    The Weight of Survival

    Morning sunlight spilled across the bed in thin golden lines when I opened my eyes.For one disoriented second, I expected shouting. Alarms. Another scout bursting through the doors with blood on his clothes.Instead – only silence.Quiet, steady silence.I stared at the ceiling, letting my breathing slow. The carved wolf rested on the windowsill, washed pale gold by the early light. Sometime during the night, I must have set it there after falling asleep with it in my hand.Kael's side of the bed was empty. Cold.I pushed myself upright carefully. My arm protested – a dull ache pulling along the healing cut. Beneath the bandages, the gold stirred faintly. Warm but calm. Resting.Outside my room, the pack house felt subdued.Not mournful. Just tired.Wolves sat in small groups around the hall, eating quietly or speaking in low voices. The scrape of spoons against bowls echoed louder than usual. Every movement seemed gentler – as if everyone had remembered how fragile things could beco

  • Curse of the Moon's Bride    The Line Holds

    Pain pulsed through my arm in sharp, hot waves as Kael tightened the strip of cloth around the wound.I hissed through my teeth.“Hold still,” he muttered.“I am holding still.”“You call this still?”Despite everything – the screams in the distance, the metallic scent of blood, the exhaustion trembling in my bones – a weak laugh almost escaped me.Almost.Kael tied the bandage hard enough to stop the bleeding, then pressed his palm briefly against my wrist. His hands were stained red. Some of it was mine. Most of it wasn't.“You shouldn't have run off alone,” he said quietly.I looked toward the pack house. The doors remained shut. No smoke. No shattered windows. Safe.“I couldn't let him reach them.”His jaw tightened. He followed my gaze.“They're safe,” I added.Around us, the battle still roared. Steel clashed. Wolves shouted. Somewhere deeper in the trees, someone screamed.Kael rose first, then offered me his hand.“Can you still fight?”I flexed my fingers. Pain shot up my arm

  • Curse of the Moon's Bride    Before the Storm

    I woke before the sun.For a moment, I didn't move. The room sat in darkness washed faintly blue by the coming dawn, silent except for the distant creak of the old pack house settling against the wind.The carved wolf rested in my palm.I must have fallen asleep holding it.My fingers tightened briefly around the smooth wood before I set it carefully back on the windowsill. Pale light caught along its worn edges – soft, familiar.A reminder. Not of who I had been. Of who I'd survived becoming.I dressed quietly, pulling on dark leathers, fastening my blade at my hip. The gold at my wrist pulsed once beneath my skin – steady, awake.Outside my room, the pack house felt wrong in its silence.Not peaceful. Waiting.Wolves moved through the corridors with purpose. Weapons. Supplies. Bundles of bandages. Nobody lingered. Nobody laughed.Everyone knew.Today would decide whether everything we'd built survived.---I found Kael tightening the straps on his armor. Firelight carved shadows acr

  • Curse of the Moon's Bride    The Rising Tide

    I woke to gray light.The sky pressed low against the windows, heavy and colorless. The carved wolf sat on the sill, but even its familiar shape couldn’t chase away the chill that had settled into the room overnight.Something felt wrong.I dressed quickly and headed for the main hall. The usual morning sounds were muted—fewer voices, less laughter. Wolves ate in silence, their gazes drifting toward the windows as if expecting something to appear beyond the glass.Beside me, Grey spoke low. “It’s too quiet.”Before I could answer, Kael entered.His face was grim. The room stilled instantly.“A scout just returned,” he said. “There’s a large group of rogues gathering near the old mine. Fifty. Maybe more.”My blood turned to ice.“Are they coming here?” I asked.“Not yet,” Kael said. “But they’re close. And they know we’re here.”The silence that followed was worse than any shout.I met his eyes across the room. “Then we prepare.”---The council chamber felt like a battlefield before a

  • Curse of the Moon's Bride    Growing Pains

    I woke to raised voices.For one disoriented second, I thought I was back in the fortress – that sharp spike of tension, the instinctive rush of adrenaline clawing its way up my spine. But sunlight spilled warm and pale across my room, catching on the carved wolf sitting quietly on the windowsill. No smoke. No blood. No war.Just shouting.I pushed the blankets aside and pulled on my clothes quickly, the voices growing louder as I stepped into the corridor.The main hall was already crowded.Two wolves stood near the center table, facing each other with enough anger crackling between them to make the surrounding pack members keep their distance. One was Tomas, born and raised in our territory. The other was one of the refugees – a broad-shouldered man with tired eyes whose name I still hadn't fully learned."We had enough before you came," Tomas snapped, pointing toward the food stores near the kitchen. "Now everything's rationed."The refugee's jaw tightened. "You think we enjoy this

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