Chapter 132

Author’s POV

The morning light slipped softly through the trees, turning the forest golden. Dew still clung to the grass, sparkling like small diamonds. Birds sang above, and the cool air smelled of earth and pine.

In the heart of the forest, laughter echoed. Dozens of children ran between the trees, their small feet brushing through the wet leaves. Their giggles mixed with the sound of rustling branches and chirping birds.

It was rare to see such joy in the pack lands—especially after so many dark nights filled with danger. But today felt different. Today was peaceful.

The children were all from the pack, the young ones still learning to control their shifts. Some were fast, others clumsy, but all were excited.

“Come on! Let’s race to the river!” one of them shouted.

Before the others could answer, he leaped forward, his body glowing faintly as fur began to spread across his skin. In a flash of light, the boy was gone—replaced by a small brown wolf.

The others cheered and followed, shifting one after another. In moments, the clearing was full of young wolves, their fur in shades of gold, white, and gray. Their paws hit the earth, kicking up dust as they ran through the trees.

They howled in excitement, the sound high and playful. Some rolled in the grass, others chased each other in circles. It was pure happiness—wild and free.

A pair of older wolves stood a little farther away, watching the scene. They were the caretakers, responsible for keeping the young ones safe during their training hours. One of them, a tall she-wolf with silver fur, smiled softly as she watched the pups play.

“They’ve come far,” she said quietly. “A few months ago, they were still afraid to shift.”

The other wolf, dark brown with sharp amber eyes, nodded. “Fear doesn’t last long in the right hands,” he said. “Especially when they know they’re protected.”

The silver wolf’s gaze softened. “It’s good to hear laughter again. The forest has been too quiet since the war.”

The brown wolf didn’t reply, but his eyes followed the smallest pup—a white-furred little one who stumbled more than he ran. Every time he fell, the others laughed, but not cruelly. They helped him back to his feet, tails wagging, encouraging him.

The silver wolf chuckled. “Look at that one. He’s trying so hard.”

“He reminds me of Nightshade when he was young,” the brown wolf said with a faint grin. “Always tripping over his own paws.”

The silver wolf laughed softly. “And now he’s one of the strongest Alphas in the pack. Life has a strange sense of humor.”

The morning went on with laughter and playful growls. The young wolves jumped into the shallow stream nearby, splashing water at each other. The forest shimmered with their joy.

But even in the light, shadows still lingered.

High above, on one of the cliffs that overlooked the forest, a lone figure stood watching. Cloaked in black, silent as the wind, the person’s eyes glowed faintly gold. They watched the children closely, almost protectively, but said nothing.

No one below noticed the figure. The wind blew softly, carrying the scent of life and innocence upward. The cloaked watcher sighed quietly. “Let them enjoy the peace,” the voice whispered. “Before it breaks again.”

Down below, the pups continued to play.

The smallest one, the white wolf, wandered off a little, chasing a butterfly that danced through the sunlight. He giggled in his wolf form, his tail wagging as he jumped up, trying to catch it. But the butterfly kept floating higher and higher until it disappeared into the trees.

The little wolf tilted his head and looked around. Suddenly, he realized he had gone too far. He couldn’t hear the others anymore.

He whimpered softly, his small ears twitching.

Then he heard something—a faint rustle.

He froze. The bushes near him moved slightly, but there was no wind. Slowly, the pup stepped back, his fur rising.

A deep growl came from the shadows.

The pup’s heart began to race. His small body trembled. He turned and tried to run, but before he could, something stepped out from behind the trees—a large black wolf with red-tinted eyes.

It was no ordinary wolf. Its presence was dark, its aura thick and heavy.

The little pup whimpered again, backing away.

Suddenly, a loud howl broke through the forest. It was sharp and commanding. The black wolf froze and looked up. From the trees, the brown and silver wolves appeared, running toward the pup at full speed.

The brown wolf leaped first, tackling the dark creature to the ground. The forest filled with snarls and the sound of snapping jaws.

The silver wolf grabbed the pup gently by the scruff and ran back toward the others. “Go! Back to the den!” she shouted. The young ones, hearing the alarm, quickly shifted back into their human forms and began to run, guided by older caretakers.

The black wolf howled, its voice echoing through the forest like thunder. Then, as suddenly as it appeared, it slipped into the shadows and vanished.

The brown wolf stood panting, his fur bristling. He turned in circles, searching, but the enemy was gone.

The silver wolf returned, her eyes wide with concern. “Was it one of them?” she asked quietly.

He nodded slowly. “Yes… and that means they’re close.”

She looked toward the direction of the pack house, worry clouding her face. “Nightshade must be told.”

The brown wolf nodded again, his gaze darkening. “Peace never lasts for long.”

Meanwhile, back at the den, the children sat together, shaken but unharmed. The smallest one—the white pup—was quiet, his eyes wide. Evelyn knelt beside him, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders.

“You’re safe now,” she said gently.

He looked up at her with trembling lips. “There was… a big black wolf,” he whispered. “Its eyes were red.”

Evelyn’s heart sank. She knew what that meant. The shadows from the old days were stirring again.

She looked toward the window, where sunlight still poured in through the trees. It seemed warm, bright, peaceful—but she could feel it. Darkness was moving again, silent and unseen.

The laughter from the morning still lingered faintly in the air, but it felt fragile now, like a candle flickering in the wind.

Evelyn rose slowly. “Keep the children

inside,” she told the others. “Double the guards around the forest. I’ll go tell Nightshade.”