The Alpha Weredragon's Favorite
CHAPTER 49

Lyra.

The battle continued, with neither giving in. Blood splattered the ground around them and the baby began to cry. piercing wails that filled the air. The wolf lunged, seemingly eager to finish the battle and help her child. With a quick move, the dagger found its mark and cut a long gash across the wolf's flank. She yelped in pain but didn't back down. She lunged again, her jaws snapping shut on the figure's arm. The figure cried out, wrenching their arm free, but not before the wolf tore a chunk of flesh from their bicep.

The figure staggered back, their robe stained crimson with their own blood. They looked at the wolf with a mixture of surprise and rage. The wolf snarled, her eyes blazing with defiance. But the figure was stronger, more experienced. They lunged again, their dagger replaceing its way between the wolf's ribs.

The wolf let out a final, mournful howl before collapsing to the ground, her silver fur stained crimson with her lifeblood.

The figure in red stood over them, their chest heaving. They wiped the blood from their dagger on their robe, their eyes cold and empty.

I stood paralyzed, the metallic tang of blood sharp in my nose, barely able to comprehend the horror unfolding before my eyes. In mere moments, the happy family was destroyed.

My heart raced and my breath caught in my throat. I wanted to scream, but no sound came out. I was helpless to do anything but watch.

The figure snatched up the crying baby and carried it into the dark woods. The forest seemed to swallow them up, the trees looming. The baby's cries grew weaker and weaker until they faded away entirely, leaving only a heavy silence behind. My face flushed with sorrow and rage. Hot tears streamed down my face as I stared at the still bodies of the couple, their blood staining the once-cheerful picnic blanket. Why did this happen? Who were these people, and why did I feel such a deep connection to them?

The scene changed again, and I found myself in a dark forest. The trees loomed over me, their branches reaching out like grasping hands. In the distance, I could hear the sound of a baby crying, the same cry I had heard before. I followed the sound, pulse racing as I pushed through the undergrowth. And then I saw it - the baby, lying on the forest floor, wrapped in a blanket. It was alone, abandoned, left to die in the wilderness.

Hours passed as I listened to the baby's cries grow weaker and weaker. My heart ached with every whimper, knowing I couldn't help the poor child. I prayed to the Moon Goddess, begging her to send someone to save the baby. "Oh, Moon Goddess, please hear my plea. I beg you, send someone to this place. Someone who will hear this child's cries and have the strength to save it. Please, let this little life not be lost in vain. Guide its path to safety and warmth. I offer my prayers and devotion, hoping you will answer my call. In your name, I ask this."

As the last rays of sunlight faded behind the trees, a wave of despair washed over me. I sank to my knees, the cold stones digging into my skin, my hands clasped tightly as I prayed over and over and once again. Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision as the baby's cries, once a constant plea for help, had fallen silent. The silence was deafening, a heavy blanket smothering any hope I had left. Was the child gone? Had the Moon Goddess abandoned us both? My heart ached as I questioned if I could have done more and as my vision blurred with fresh tears, the world around me seemed to shift. The cold stones beneath me vanished, replaced by a sense of weightlessness. I gasped as I realized I was hovering in the air, the ground falling away beneath me.

In the distance, the familiar outline of the Wolfsong pack house emerged from the darkness. Blake's house. My former home. A wave of confusion and awe washed over me as I was drawn closer, the landscape unfolding beneath me a familiar map. How had I come here?

Movement from the trees stopped my wondering for a moment as I scanning that direction. I watched in stunned disbelief as a man emerged from the shadows, leading the pack of silver wolves. My jaw hit the ground when I recognized him - it was my father, Gregory Evergreen, the Alpha of the Wolfsong pack.

He stood tall and imposing, his dark hair not yet streaked with silver, his eyes glinting with a purpose-something I hadn't seen since I was a small pup. The wolves circled around him, their snouts sniffing the air.

"Listen up," my father barked, his voice cutting through the stillness of the forest. "There will be time for retribution later. We need to replace Melissa's child and we need to replace her fast."

The wolves let out a chorus of howls, their silver eyes gleaming.

"Spread out," my father ordered. "Search every inch of this forest. Use your noses, your ears, your instincts. We won't rest until we replace that child."

The wolves scattered, disappearing into the undergrowth. My father stood still for a moment, his head cocked as if listening for something. I followed him, pulse pounding in my ears. He would jog for a bit then stop as if to listen. He repeated this several times until a bundle came into view.

"I found her!" He shouted. As he approached the baby, he lifted the child into his arms, and with tenderness in his tone, he spoke to the baby, while the silver wolves, one by one, came into view.

"Everything will be alright, little one," my father assured, his words calming my worried mind. "With my own little one gone along with my wife, I promise to raise you, my sister's child, as my own."

The baby ceased crying, nestling into my father's warmth. The wolves stood guard, their eyes watchful. And as the moonlight filtered through the trees, spectral markings slowly began to appear on the wolves. From Professor Harbringer's teachings, I knew that these markings, although not as bright and sharp, mirrored those of the White Wolf.