Lahat ng Kabanata ng HOUR OF THE WOLF: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

A sharp rustle followed by a blade of light burning through her closed eyelids tears Minnow from her restless sleep.The curtains are already being drawn apart, sunlight flooding the bedroom in a sudden, unforgiving wash as Ariella moves between the tall bay windows with quiet efficiency.“Hey—what do you think you're doing?” Minnow snaps, turning away and dragging the covers over her head.Ariella doesn't react. She rarely does.“Your mother wants you downstairs for brunch,” she says before leaving without waiting for an answer.The door clicks shut.Minnow groans into the pillow.“Why does no one understand I don't want to see people?”She forces herself out of bed and crosses into the ensuite, slipping out of her silk nightdress as she goes.Her body has changed.Bruises linger across her skin, fading to yellow. Some she remembers. Most she doesn't.Her gaze settles on the mark at her throat, and her fingers brush it gently.“What happened to me?” she whispers.The mirror offers no

She is back in the forest.The cold reaches her first, wrapping around her as she runs through the towering pines. Her breath tears from her lungs in ragged bursts while low branches whip at her arms, leaving sharp stings across her skin. Somewhere beyond the trees, the lights of Oakheart Ridge shimmer against the hillside.Home.The Venandi mansion watches over the town, its windows glowing warmly in the distance, the lights at the front gates burning like tiny stars. She's so close that relief begins to loosen the tightness in her chest.For one strange, impossible moment, she notices how beautiful the night is. Moonlight spills across the old playground, coating the rusted swings and spiral slide in silver beneath a sky crowded with stars.Then her heel sinks into the soft earth.She stumbles.One shoe is swallowed by the mud, and she almost bends to pull it free before deciding it isn't worth the time. The alcohol still clouds her thoughts, slowing everything, convincing her she ha

The lake had always been their place.Ever since they were children, they had ended up here whenever life became too loud or too complicated. It was where they had planned impossible futures, laughed over ridiculous gossip, and spent entire afternoons talking about nothing at all. The old wooden bench beneath the liquidambar tree had become as familiar to Minnow as her own bedroom.The walking track is quieter than usual despite the warm autumn morning. Golden leaves drift lazily from the trees overhead, collecting along the gravel path as joggers and dog walkers wander past at an unhurried pace.Near the entrance, a little pink coffee van stands beneath a towering maple tree, its windows fogged from the stream of hot drinks being poured."I'll get these," Saylor says before she can reach for her wallet."You always say that.""Because you're terrible at letting people spoil you.""I let you spoil me all the time."He grins."Exactly."By the time he returns, he is balancing two takeaw

The garden has turned cold and dark by the time Minnow and Henry decide to make their way back.The candle has burned out, and the darkness feels different somehow. The night has never bothered her before.Now it does.Henry's hand brushes her arm, and she flinches."Oh—I'm sorry, Minnow. I didn't mean to frighten you.""That's okay," she says quietly. "The dark just... gets to me sometimes.""Come on. I'll walk you back inside."A loud thud breaks the silence as Henry knocks his knee against the bench."Son of a biscuit eater," he mutters through clenched teeth.Minnow laughs before she can stop herself."Are you okay? Here—"She pulls out her phone and turns on the torch. The beam catches him rubbing his knee, squinting against the brightness. The moment draws another laugh from her, easing some of the tightness in her chest, before she loops her arm through his and guides him back toward the house.At the kitchen door, she says goodbye and watches him disappear towards his and Ariel

Miles The morning mist still clings to the valley as Miles guides Aspen along the trail above the stream. The dapple-grey mare picks her way carefully over the damp ground, her ears flicking towards birds hidden high among the pines.Morning is his favourite part of the day.Before meetings.Before everyone needs something from the Alpha.He breathes deeply, letting the scent of damp earth and pine settle his mind.Below him, Moonfall slowly emerges from the mist.Golden paddocks stretch between weathered timber fences, their grass glittering with frost where the first rays of sunlight reach them. Silverwater Stream winds through the valley like polished glass before slipping beneath the old wooden bridge that marks the entrance to town.Home.Aspen snorts softly as he nudges her into a canter across the open field, her hooves thundering over the dew-soaked grass.Movement catches his eye.A silver hatchback rolls quietly across the bridge.Not one of theirs.Visitors are uncommon.He