Orphaned and haunted by dreams of a silver wolf, Aurelia Lane has always felt out of place in the bustling city. When a mysterious letter invites her to the isolated town of Ravencross, she hopes to uncover the truth about her past. Instead, she finds herself thrust into the heart of a centuries-old mystery surrounding a pack of werewolves long thought extinct. Liam West, the cursed alpha of the Forgotten Pack, has waited lifetimes for the one who can break their curse. Bound to a barren land and tormented by the sins of their ancestors, his pack teeters on the edge of despair. When Aurelia arrives, her presence reignites hope- but also draws the attention of ancient enemies eager to see the pack destroyed.
The rain hammered relentlessly against the windshield, blurring the winding road ahead. Aurelia gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles whitening with each sharp turn. Ravencross wasn't on any map she owned, and her GPS had given up miles ago. The old letter on the passenger seat, its edges worn and faded, was her only guide.
"Come to the town of Ravencross. There are truths about your family you must uncover." The cryptic note had arrived weeks earlier, bearing no name or return address. It had been tucked inside an envelope sealed with a crescent moon insignia. A coincidence, she'd told herself at first, but the dreams that followed had said otherwise.
A wolf. Silver fur gleaming under the moonlight. Eyes like emerald flames boring into her soul. Every night, it came to her, beckoning silently before vanishing into shadows.
Aurelia shook her head and tried to focus. The isolation of the forest pressed in around her. Towering pines loomed on either side, their branches intertwined overhead to form a tunnel of green. The road twisted and turned as if leading her deeper into the unknown.
A sign emerged through the rain, weathered and crooked: Welcome to Ravencross. The letters were barely legible, smothered by moss and grime. She exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
The town materialized moments later, its edges blurred by mist. It looked as if it had been plucked from another era. Cobblestone streets glistened beneath the downpour, and gas lamps cast weak pools of light over the sidewalks. Buildings leaned precariously, their wooden facades worn by time and neglect.
Pulling into what she assumed was the main square, Aurelia parked beside an old diner. Through its fogged-up windows, she could make out the silhouettes of a few patrons hunched over steaming mugs. She grabbed her coat and stepped out, bracing herself against the cold bite of the rain.
The bell above the diner door jingled faintly as she entered. Conversations hushed instantly. Every eye in the room turned toward her.
Aurelia hesitated, water dripping from her coat onto the scuffed floor. The patrons stared openly-worn faces etched with suspicion, their gazes lingering too long. She forced a tight smile and made her way to the counter.
A grizzled man in a grease-stained apron wiped his hands and approached her, his eyes narrowing. "You're not from around here," he said, his tone more accusation than observation.
"No," she replied, forcing her voice to remain steady. "I'm looking for an address. My grandmother's house."
The man's expression darkened. "Who was your grandmother?"
"Margaret Lane," she said, her heart thudding in her chest.
The name sparked murmurs among the other patrons. A woman in the corner crossed herself, while an older man muttered something under his breath.
The grizzled man's gaze sharpened. "Margaret Lane's house is out past the old mill. But if you're smart, you'll turn right back around and leave."
"Why?" The word came out sharper than she intended.
"Bad things happen to folks who stick their noses where they don't belong," he said cryptically, before turning back to the coffee pot.
Aurelia felt the weight of their stares as she left the diner. The rain had eased, but the mist clung stubbornly to the air. She retrieved the letter and followed the directions scrawled inside.
Margaret Lane's house stood at the edge of the forest, its silhouette stark against the darkening sky. The once-grand estate had fallen into disrepair. Shutters hung crookedly from their hinges, and ivy climbed unchecked along the walls.
The driveway was overgrown, forcing her to park on the road. She stepped through the rusted gate, her boots crunching against the gravel path. The air here felt heavier, charged with an unexplainable energy.
The door groaned loudly as it opened, revealing an interior cloaked in shadows. Dust motes floated lazily in the dim light filtering through the cracked windows. Furniture lay draped in white sheets, ghostly shapes populating the room.
Aurelia shivered. The house smelled of mildew and neglect, but beneath it lingered something familiar-lavender and sage, her grandmother's signature scent. Memories surfaced unbidden: summers spent here as a child, listening to Margaret's tales of ancient forests and mysterious creatures.
She set her bags down and wandered through the house, her footsteps echoing. In the study, she found shelves lined with books on folklore, herbal remedies, and astrology. A worn journal sat on the desk, its leather cover embossed with the same crescent moon insignia as the letter.
Flipping it open, she skimmed the pages. Her grandmother's handwriting filled the margins, detailing rituals and symbols Aurelia didn't recognize. One passage stood out:
"The Veil is thinning. The wolves grow restless. The lunar key must return, or darkness will consume all."
Her pulse quickened. She closed the journal and leaned back, her mind racing. What had her grandmother been involved in? And what was the "lunar key"?
A soft thud echoed from upstairs.
Her head snapped up. The sound came again, a deliberate, measured noise, like footsteps.
Heart pounding, Aurelia grabbed a candlestick from the desk and made her way to the staircase. Each step creaked beneath her weight. The hallway above stretched into darkness, the air colder here.
"Hello?" she called, her voice barely above a whisper.
No answer.
She moved cautiously, checking each room. Dust-covered furniture greeted her, but nothing seemed out of place.
The final door stood slightly ajar. She pushed it open, revealing a bedroom dominated by a four-poster bed. Moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating claw marks gouged into the wooden floor.
A low growl rumbled from the corner.
She froze. Two glowing green eyes stared back at her, unblinking.
The silver wolf stepped into the light, its massive frame radiating power. It regarded her with an intensity that made her knees weaken.
Her instincts screamed to run, but something rooted her in place. The wolf tilted its head, a flicker of recognition in its gaze. Then, without a sound, it turned and leapt through the window, disappearing into the forest.
Aurelia rushed to the window, but the mist swallowed the wolf whole. Only the faint rustling of leaves marked its passage.
Her hands trembled as she gripped the windowsill. That wolf- it was the same one from her dreams... And now, it was real.
Chapter 1 1
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Chapter 2 2
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Chapter 3 3
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Chapter 4 4
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Chapter 5 5
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Chapter 6 6
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Chapter 7 7
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Chapter 8 8
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Chapter 9 9
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Chapter 10 10
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Chapter 11 11
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Chapter 12 12
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Chapter 13 13
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Chapter 14 14
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