Chapter 1

SARAH'S POV

As the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the tranquil village of Willowbrook,

I found myself lost in the rhythm of my art. Sitting in front of my quaint little house, I dipped my paintbrush into the vibrant hues of my palette, each stroke a silent testament to the turmoil within me.

I am Sarah, the last surviving offspring of my dead parents, their lives tragically taken by the wolves that prowled the mystical forest just beyond our village.

I remember the horror of that night, the sound of their screams echoing in my ears as the wolves tore through flesh and bone with savage abandon.

But amidst the chaos and bloodshed, there was one inexplicable truth that I could never quite reconcile – the wolves had spared me.

For reasons unknown, they had passed me by, leaving me trembling and alone in the darkness, the only witness to the carnage that unfolded before my eyes.

As I painted, memories washed over me like a tidal wave, threatening to drown me in their wake.

But I refused to succumb to the darkness that lurked within my soul. I had survived that night for a reason, and I was determined to find out why.

With each brushstroke, I poured my pain and sorrow onto the canvas, transforming it into something beautiful. It was my way of coping, of finding solace in the chaos that threatened to consume me.

And as the colors danced across the fabric, I felt a glimmer of hope stirring deep within my heart.

As the sun sank lower, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, I glanced up from my work, my gaze lingering on the forest that loomed in the distance.

It was a place of darkness and mystery, a constant reminder of the demons that lurked just beyond the safety of my home.

I sat back, my eyes tracing the lines and colors of the painting before me. It was a vivid representation of that heart-wrenching night, capturing the terror and chaos in every brushstroke.

As I gazed at it, a shiver ran down my spine, the memories still fresh and raw in my mind.

As I traced the lines with trembling fingers, I couldn't help but feel a sense of catharsis wash over me. Painting was my refuge, my sanctuary in a world filled with pain and uncertainty.

With each stroke of the brush, I fought the demons that had haunted me for ten long years, ever since I was twelve, and witnessed the brutal demise of my parents.

I fought the unknown, the personal demons that lurked in the shadows of my mind, threatening to consume me whole.

For years, I had battled against them, refusing to let them define me or dictate my future.

But there were times when the darkness seemed overwhelming and I felt like I was drowning in a sea of fear and despair.

"I've fought them for so long, these shadows that haunt my every step. But no matter how hard I try, they always find a way to creep back in." I spoke softly to myself.

I leaned forward, resting my head in my hands as I recounted the feelings that had plagued me for as long as I could remember.

And then there were the flashes, the visions, the dreams that plagued me relentlessly.

Sometimes, they were fragments of a past I couldn't remember – faces I had never seen before, places I had never been.

Other times, they were glimpses of a future that seemed both terrifying and tantalizingly out of reach.

I saw myself being chased by shadowy figures through the gigantic trees in the forest and deserted streets, their faces twisted with malice and hunger.

I saw a beautiful place hidden deep within the forest, bathed in ethereal light and pulsing with the heartbeat of the earth.

And sometimes, it felt like I was reliving my life, every joy and sorrow playing out before me like scenes from a forgotten play.

But the most profound of my visions were the horrors and scares that seemed to leap out from the depths of my subconscious.

I saw myself being chased by the same wolves that had killed my parents, their snarling jaws and piercing eyes haunting me in my sleep.

I shook my head, trying to shake off the memories that threatened to engulf me. But they clung to me like shadows, refusing to be banished into the darkness where they belonged.

I knew that I couldn't keep running from them forever – eventually, I would have to face them head-on, no matter how terrifying the prospect but I didn't feel like I was ready to face them or whatever they meant yet.

The night descended swiftly, a shroud of darkness enveloping the village like a cloak.

Fear gripped my heart as I watched the sun dip below the horizon, casting long, ominous shadows across the landscape. What would tonight bring? What horrors awaited me in the depths of my dreams?

With a heavy sigh, I reluctantly gathered my belongings and retreated inside, seeking refuge from the encroaching darkness.

I busied myself with the task of preparing a light dinner, the rhythmic clinking of utensils against plates filling the silence of the empty house.

Cooking had always been a form of therapy for me, a way to distract myself from the nightmares that plagued my sleep.

But tonight, even the familiar routine failed to soothe my frayed nerves. As I sat down to eat, my gaze drifted to the window, where the mystical forest loomed in the distance, its dark silhouette casting a foreboding shadow over the village.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from the forest, the allure of its depths calling out to me like a siren's song.

A part of me longed to run, to seek solace in the embrace of the forest, where perhaps the wolves or bears would maul me too, ending my torment once and for all.

As I finished my meal, I cleared away the dishes and made my way to bed, the weight of exhaustion heavily heavy upon my shoulders.

I hesitated for a moment at the threshold of my bedroom, casting one last glance out the window at the dark expanse of the forest beyond.

Taking a deep breath, I closed the curtains and extinguished the lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

The silence of the night pressed in around me, broken only by the rhythmic pulse of my heartbeat echoing in the stillness.

With a weary sigh, I settled into bed, pulling the covers tightly around me as I prepared to face whatever horrors awaited me in the depths of my dreams.

And as sleep claimed me, I whispered a silent prayer to whatever gods may be listening, hoping against hope that tonight would be different, that tonight I would find the peace I so desperately sought.

I woke up with a start, my heart pounding in my chest, and a sheen of sweat covering my body.

It was the same nightmare that had haunted me for years, the one where I was being chased by unseen forces, my parents' screams echoing in my ears.

In the dream, I was running through the forest, the trees looming over me like silent sentinels.

I could hear the sounds of pursuit behind me, the rustle of leaves, and the snapping of twigs as whatever was chasing me closed in.

I could feel the fear gripping me, the icy fingers of terror clutching at my heart.

But no matter how fast I ran, I could never escape. The darkness seemed to swallow me whole, enveloping me in its suffocating embrace.

And then, just as I felt the hands of my pursuers closing in on me, I would wake up, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath.

This time, however, the dream felt different, more real than ever before.

As I lay there, trying to catch my breath, I could still hear the voices, as if they were moving through the house, coming closer and closer to my bedroom.

The whole house seemed to tremble, the walls shaking with an unseen force.

In a panic, I pushed open the wooden window of my bedroom and ran out into the night. The cool night air did little to calm my racing heart as I stumbled blindly through the darkness.

I had no destination in mind, no plan of where to go. All I knew was that I had to get away, away from whatever was haunting me.

I found myself running towards the forest, the very place that had been the scene of my parents' tragic end.

It was a place of darkness and mystery, a place where the boundary between dreams and reality blurred.

But in that moment, it was my only refuge, my only hope of escape from the nightmares that plagued me.

As I entered the forest, the darkness seemed to close in around me, the trees towering overhead like silent sentinels.

I could hear the sounds of the night, the hoot of an owl, the rustle of leaves, the distant howl of a wolf.

But above all else, I could hear the pounding of my own heart, the fear that drove me deeper into the heart of the forest.

The moon slipped beneath the horizon, casting elongated shadows over the forest floor as I hurried along the winding path. My heart thrummed in my chest, fear and desperation driving me onward.

Glancing over my shoulder, I half-expected to see my pursuers closing in, but the dense foliage obscured my view.

Rounding a bend in the trail, I stumbled over a protruding tree root, collapsing to the ground with a gasp.

Pain shot through my ankle, but I forced myself upright, determined to press on. Just as I regained my footing, a low growl reverberated through the trees, freezing me in place.

My eyes widened in terror as I slowly turned to face the source of the sound.

Emerging from the shadows, a massive wolf stood before me, its golden eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that sent chills down my spine.

Instinctively, I took a step back, my heart pounding in my chest.

The wolf remained motionless, studying me with a mixture of curiosity and caution. I held my breath, thoughts of escape racing through my mind.

But before I could make a move, a deep voice shattered the silence, startling me.

"Easy, girl. She's not a threat."

My gaze snapped to the speaker, a tall figure emerging from the darkness. Moonlight filtered through the trees, casting a silvery glow on his rugged features.

He moved with a fluid grace, his gaze never leaving mine as he approached.

Alpha Damien.