The Wolf Prophies の小説・ストーリー

“I found this after my first shift. When I arrived at Lupinemere, it was already there. I don’t know how I got it.” He said nothing. “But Kian, he saw it once. He said something weird. He called it a lock and told me not to let it break.” I lowered my shirt, then pulled out the book we had been hiding for weeks. I flipped through pages until I found it, the prophecy. I read it aloud, again. “When the she-wolf with the shadowed blood rises, four shall stand at her side but only one shall rule beside her. If the heart wavers, the pack will fall. If she chooses, the moon will bow.”

I couldn’t let her die. WHY SHE WANTED YOU DEAD. A deep, angry male voice sounded in my head. I stood in disbelief. The wolf was looking at me. Cold fury in his eyes. I knew he wasn’t mad at me but, I froze on the spot. We stared down each other. No one is budging. I think he was waiting for my answer. I AM Holy crap, this was crazy. “Because she wasn’t acting alone. There is something bigger going on.” I tell the wolf. I think I lost it. This couldn’t be real.

Finally, my father looked up, but he didn't look at me, he looked at the wall behind me. “I don’t know everything about this piece,” he said, but I could tell he was choosing his words with extreme caution. “I’ve only seen it once in my youth, in an old text. But if you want the truth, there is only one wolf who can tell you about it.” “Who?” “She is from the Crystal Moon Pack. The oldest living wolf in the territories. Rumor has it she will die once the Prophecy has been fulfilled.” “What prophecy?” I demanded, stepping forward.

The wolf speaks, its voice a low rumble that seems to vibrate through my very bones. “Young king, you carry a heavy burden upon your shoulders,” the wolf says, its gaze never leaving mine. “But know this — you are not alone in this fight. The spirits of our ancestors stand with you, guiding your path and lending you their strength in times of need. Trust in yourself, trust in your pack, and you will emerge victorious.”

He went to the bottom of the forest, as all its brightness faded and darkening the environment, he could feel more power. He would ally himself with those he already knew well and knew the extent of his powers. The enemy may one day become his ally. And so, a huge wolf made of shadows said as other smaller straws howled around him: "I was waiting for you, my prince." Kallias smiled. "I know you want the old very back. I have a proposal for that, old wolf." And the wolf smiled with his silver teeth. "We have a deal, my prince."

As I skimmed through the pages, a particular entry caught my eye. **March 23, 1922: Today, I learned a secret that has been kept hidden for generations. Our family carries the blood of the wolves, a legacy that binds us to the fate of Silverwood Falls. The prophecy speaks of a chosen one who will rise to protect our kind in times of peril.** I read the passage aloud to Nathanial, my hands trembling. “This prophecy... it’s about me. My great-grandmother knew about the werewolves. She knew about the prophecy.”

“The bond is not just a connection, Mira—it’s a tether. It merges our lives, our emotions, our fates.” “Why us?” I demanded, the rising frustration coloring my tone. “Why me? Why you?” For a moment, he hesitated, and I feared he might not answer at all. Then he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “There’s an old prophecy,” he murmured, voice low and measured. “It speaks of a bond between human and wolf—a bond that can unite our worlds... or destroy them.” The word “prophecy” stole my breath, and I staggered back. “A prophecy?”

A mirror hanging on the wall beside the altar shattered without being touched. Shards flew in every direction. Behind the glass, etched into the hidden wall, was a prophecy. Ancient, long-forgotten words glowing faintly in runes only wolves of true blood could read. “When the Silent Wolf breaks, the world shall shift. Born in fire, death, and betrayal—she rises.”

Every wolf, rogue and ally, stops fighting to stare. Through our bond, I feel his emotions—awe, pride, and terror. The prophecy. Always the damn prophecy. "Celestial Wolf," someone whispers. And then: chaos.