All Chapters of The Wolf Who Chose Me: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The world shifted when the original wolf stepped through the arch.Not like a storm. Not like a god.Like a truth that had been waiting to be remembered.Its paws didn’t just touch the ground—they commanded it. With every breath, the grass beneath it curled and burned, turning black in seconds. Its eyes weren’t eyes. They were stars that had forgotten how to die. Furious. Timeless. But somehow… familiar.Ezra’s pulse thudded in his ears, the mark on his arm blazing hot—gold and black winding like a storm beneath his skin.Then the voice came.Not sound. Not speech.Weight.> “Gateborn,” it rumbled, shaking the earth under their feet.“Unchain me. Or be broken beneath me.”Ezra dropped to one knee, not from fear, but force. Like gravity had found him and doubled down. He planted a hand on the scorched earth, breath ragged.Kael was there in a second—shoulder to shoulder, hand tight on Ezra’s arm. “Ezra,” he said low, firm. “This isn’t a challenge. It’s a claim.”Ezra’s jaw tightened. “

The war room felt like it was holding its breath.Ezra sat at the head of the table, the scorched parchment from the locket laid out before him. The spiral symbol glinted gold beneath candlelight—alive, almost pulsing—as if it recognized where it was and who held it. Beneath it, five words had etched themselves into his mind:The First Flame must choose.Around the room, the others stood in uneasy silence—Kael, Mira, Jorrin, Lysa, Elen. Their faces didn’t carry fear anymore. What lingered in their eyes now was something quieter. Heavier. They weren’t looking at the Alpha of Blackthorn. They were looking at something older. Something they couldn’t name.Ezra didn’t feel like that thing.He felt like a son who had just heard his mother’s voice for the first time in years. A voice speaking through fire, across time, through memory. A voice that said she was alive. That said there was more to him than what the Fold had written in blood and prophecy.His mark hummed faintly beneath his shi

The mountain wasn’t just a shape on the horizon—it was a wound.Split at the peak, sharp as a fang, it pierced the clouds like it had once tried to bite the sky and never healed from the attempt. Smoke bled from the cracks in its stone skin—not mist, not weather, but something breathing.Ezra stood at the ridge’s edge, cloak snapping in the wind, the sea behind them, the flame in his chest quiet—but watching. His mark pulsed slow and deep, not in alarm, but anticipation.Kael brought his horse beside him. The creature huffed uneasily, hooves sliding on the loose shale.“That thing’s not just a mountain,” Kael muttered.Ezra’s gaze didn’t shift. “No. It’s alive.”---The climb to the base was unforgiving.The land fought them—narrow switchbacks, stones that slipped when stepped on, ridges that moaned under their weight. It felt like the mountain didn’t want them there.Or worse… wanted them to try.Mira cursed every loose rock under her boots.Jorrin muttered under his breath—not quite

Ezra hadn’t said a word in an hour.Not since the Unbound dropped to their knees like shadows caught in a storm.Not since she stepped out of the trees.His mother.Alive.Not a dream. Not a flame. Not a voice echoing from visions.Flesh and blood. Eyes like gold. Presence like fire wrapped in silence.She walked ahead now, the forest parting before her like it remembered who she was.Like it owed her something.Ezra followed, numb and breathless, questions knotting in his throat.What do you say to a mother who vanished in fire and prophecy?The last time he saw her, he was five. She had sung him a lullaby shaped like safety, kissed his brow with lips that burned warm.And then she was gone.The Fold said she died. They’d turned her memory into a warning.Now she was here. Real. Fierce. Moving like she’d never stopped running.Behind him, Kael, Mira, Jorrin, Lysa, and Elen trailed in tense silence. Kael walked closest, hand on the hilt of his blade, shoulders coiled. Elen looked like

The world felt… wrong.Not just eerie or quiet—wrong, like a song stuck between notes.When they climbed out of the vault, the light hit them strange. It wasn’t dusk or dawn, not stormy or still. It was as if someone had scrubbed the sky clean of color. No birds. No breeze. Just a heavy silence that sat on their shoulders like dust.Clouds hung above, pale and unmoving. The air didn’t whistle through the trees. It didn’t move at all.Kael was the first to break the silence. “Your mark,” he said quietly. “It’s gone.”Ezra glanced at his hands—no silver, no gold. Just skin. Pale. Cold. Trembling.“It’s hiding,” he muttered.“From what?” Mira asked. Her sword was already in her hand. Her voice sharp, but not panicked. Ready.Ezra didn’t answer.Because the forest ahead wasn’t just different—it felt emptied. The trees were still standing, but their bark had turned a sickly ash-gray. Not scorched. Not dead.Like they’d forgotten how to be alive.Even their footsteps didn’t echo. The ground