Legacy of the Wolf

Chapter Twelve

The forest was a blur as Mira tore through it, her paws pounding against the earth, heart racing, senses sharpened to a singular focus: Lucas's scent. It was faint but unmistakable, a beacon pulling her through the dark maze of trees. Her muscles burned, but her wolf pushed harder, faster, her mind consumed by the thought of reaching him, of getting to his side before it was too late.

As she broke through a thick cluster of trees into a small clearing, her heart stilled. Lucas was there, his wolf form tense and battered, his eyes narrowed with fierce concentration as he faced off against four other wolves—wolves she didn't recognize.

The strange wolves circled him, their hackles raised, lips curled back in menacing snarls. Each of them was large, muscular, their coats dark and gleaming beneath the moonlight. Their eyes glinted with deadly intent, and Mira could sense their hostile energy vibrating in the air, palpable and threatening.

Without hesitation, she leapt into the fray, her own snarl ripping through the clearing as she launched herself at the nearest wolf. He barely had time to react before she crashed into him, sending them both tumbling into the undergrowth. The wolf yelped in surprise but recovered quickly, his powerful jaws snapping dangerously close to her neck. Mira twisted, using her hind legs to push him off, her own teeth flashing as she went for his throat. He dodged, but not quickly enough to avoid the sharp rake of her claws along his side, a howl of pain escaping him as blood darkened his fur.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lucas holding his ground against two of the other wolves, his own wounds reopening as he fought, but his stance defiant, refusing to back down. She moved to help, but another wolf lunged at her, teeth aiming for her legs, hoping to cripple her.

Mira spun, dodging just in time, her claws raking across his face as she darted to the side. He recoiled, his face contorted with pain and fury, but she didn't let up. With a fierce growl, she launched herself at him again, teeth sinking into his shoulder, her jaws locking tight as she shook her head, tearing into his flesh. He howled, trying to throw her off, but she held on until he finally twisted enough to dislodge her, leaving a trail of blood across the ground.

She rolled to her feet, breathing heavily, the taste of blood sharp on her tongue. Lucas was beside her now, his chest heaving, his eyes fierce despite the pain etched across his face. They exchanged a brief glance, a silent agreement passing between them as they turned to face the last two wolves standing.

The largest of the four—a massive gray wolf with scars marring his face—stared at Mira with a strange, calculating expression. Recognition flickered in his eyes as he took in her coloring, the unique silvery-gray of her fur, so much like her father's, unmistakable even in the moonlight. He stopped his advance, and the tension in the air shifted, a different energy crackling between them.

"You..." he growled, his voice low and raspy, his gaze fixed on her. "You're one of *them*. I knew your father—your mother too."

Mira's growl deepened, her stance wary but curious. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice rough with anger. "And what are you doing here, attacking *him*?" She glanced at Lucas, whose sides rose and fell in rapid breaths, his eyes narrowed on the scarred wolf.

The gray wolf chuckled darkly, his eyes glinting with a cruel amusement. "You're the last of your bloodline, aren't you? Your father... well, he got in the way of certain interests. Powerful ones. He was willing to challenge Alaric—your family would have overturned the balance if they'd succeeded."

Mira felt a chill run through her, her muscles tensing. "What are you talking about?"

The wolf tilted his head, watching her with a twisted smile. "You don't know, do you?" He sneered, his voice thick with derision. "Your mother, the Luna... she was poisoned. Alaric wanted your family gone—your father was too strong, too honorable. He'd started gathering allies, wolves from neighboring packs willing to join him against Alaric's plans to seize more territory, more power."

Mira's heart pounded, fury and grief swirling together in a storm inside her. Poisoned. Her mother hadn't just fallen ill; it had been orchestrated, a calculated act meant to weaken her father, to break the pack.

"And you... your family wasn't just a threat because of your father's strength," the wolf continued, his gaze narrowing as he looked at her. "It's *you*, Mira. You're the last descendant of a line older and purer than his. Alaric fears you... your blood, your wolf. Your family was powerful enough to challenge him—he couldn't risk you growing up and learning the truth."

Mira's vision blurred, rage thrumming through her veins. Alaric had torn her family apart, stolen everything from her, all because of his insatiable lust for power. She glanced at Lucas, who was watching her with fierce, unwavering support, his eyes filled with the same resolve she felt.

The scarred wolf seemed to sense the shift in her energy, and for the first time, a flicker of fear crossed his face. He lowered his head, eyes wary. "Don't make this mistake, girl. Alaric's wrath will come down on you. You're nothing but a—"

Mira didn't let him finish. With a snarl, she leapt forward, teeth bared, her wolf surging forward with a vengeance born of years of pain and loss. She sank her teeth into his throat, her rage propelling her as she felt him struggle, his claws scratching desperately at her, but she held firm, pressing down until he went still.

When she finally let go, the clearing was quiet, the metallic scent of blood heavy in the air. She panted, her chest heaving, her eyes fixed on the fallen wolves around her. She could still feel the energy of the moon coursing through her, raw and untamed, feeding her anger and grief.

Lucas was beside her now, watching her with both admiration and concern. She looked into his eyes, the weight of what she'd learned settling heavily in her heart.

"They killed them, Lucas," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. "They took everything from me. And he's been lying, manipulating, making me think I was weak... when all along, he was afraid of me."

Lucas nodded, his expression fierce as he reached out, brushing his head gently against hers, a silent show of comfort. "Then we'll end this, Mira," he said, his voice steady, filled with a quiet determination. "Together."

She looked at him, feeling the bond between them strengthen, their shared purpose becoming clear. For the first time in her life, she felt the full weight of her identity, her purpose, settle over her. She wasn't just a forgotten orphan, a wolf without a place—she was the last of her line, and she had the power to reclaim everything that had been taken from her.

With one last look at the fallen wolves, she turned, her resolve hardening. She and Lucas would face Alaric, and this time, she would be the one to strike.