The Wolf's Queen Vows

Chapter 23: The awakening

The rumors began quietly, whispered behind cups of wine and around training grounds. But within days, they spread like wildfire across the palace. They said the heiress couldn’t shift. They said the daughter of the Moon’s chosen line was broken. They told the wolves of Lycanthria that they would soon need a new leader.

Aveloria tried to ignore them, but conversations stopped abruptly every time she walked through the courtyard or past the barracks. She could feel the eyes on her back, the pity and curiosity wrapped in false respect.

It cut deeper than any blade. Her wolf had been silent since the night she spoke to Rowena. Not a growl, not a whisper, nothing. A void.

Even Galen, who had been patient during their daily training, looked concerned. That afternoon, they had spent hours sparring under the harsh sun, the dirt beneath their feet turning to mud from their sweat.

"You’re pushing too hard," Galen said when she fell to her knees after another failed attempt to steady her breathing.

"I can’t stop," Aveloria replied, gripping the handle of her dagger. "If I can’t access my wolf soon, they’ll start believing I’m unfit to lead."

He crouched beside her. "You don’t have to prove anything to anyone."

Her gaze flicked up to him, sharp and desperate. "Yes, I do. They already think I’m cursed."

Galen’s jaw clenched. He didn’t argue further. Instead, he helped her to her feet, adjusting her stance once more and guiding her through the proper breathing techniques. But her mind wasn’t in it anymore. Every strike, every movement, felt heavy with frustration.

By the time the sun set, her arms trembled from exhaustion. Still, she wasn’t done.

"Go rest," Galen said firmly. "Overtraining won’t help." ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com

"I’ll rest when I’ve done what I came to do," she answered.

He sighed, realizing she wouldn’t listen. "At least don’t train alone. If something goes wrong—"

"It’s my wolf," she interrupted. "It’s between me and her."

He hesitated but didn’t stop her when she walked off.

The royal forest was quiet that night. It was the one place in the kingdom where Aveloria could be alone without guards or attendants. The trees were thick and ancient, the air sharp with the scent of pine and earth.

It was where her father often went to run freely in his wolf form when politics and council meetings suffocated him. She had watched him go there as a child, envying how natural his transformation seemed, the seamless flow of man into beast.

Now, standing in the same place, she couldn’t even feel the stir of her wolf without pain. She removed her boots and let the grass cool her tired feet. The moon was full overhead, bathing everything in a pale glow. For a long time, she stood there, breathing.

"You can do this," she whispered to herself.

Her heart pounded hard in her chest as she closed her eyes and reached inward, as Galen taught her during meditation. She focused on her heartbeat, on the slow rhythm of her breathing, trying to find the familiar presence buried deep within.

But all she felt was emptiness.

She pushed harder, forcing herself to connect, to summon the wildness that every wolf was born with. Her body shook from the strain.

"Come on," she whispered. "Please."

Pain shot through her chest. Her knees hit the ground. Her vision blurred. Her breathing quickened until she could barely pull in air. She gasped, clutching her sides as heat spread through her veins. Still, no shift came.

When the pain subsided, she was left trembling and drenched in sweat.

Tears filled her eyes. "Why won’t you answer me?!" she shouted, her voice cracking through the stillness of the night. "What did I do wrong?"

Silence. Only the whisper of leaves and the distant call of an owl.

Aveloria tilted her head toward the moon. Her vision blurred again, this time not from pain but from helplessness.

"Why me?" she cried. "Why am I cursed?" Her voice echoed through the trees.

She tried again. This time, she didn’t think; she just felt. She let the ache, anger, and loneliness rise to the surface. Her heart thudded painfully as if her ribs were too small to contain it.

Then the world shifted.

The moon dimmed, not clouded, darkened, as though something unseen had moved across its face. The air grew heavier, pressing down on her until it was almost suffocating.

A low growl rumbled deep within her, one that didn’t come from her throat but from somewhere deeper.

Aveloria’s eyes widened. It was her wolf. The presence was sudden and wild. It clawed against her skin, demanding to be freed.

"Wait," Aveloria gasped. "Not yet—"

But the force tore through her body before she could stop it. Pain exploded from her spine as her bones began to shift. Her fingers twisted, nails elongating into claws. She screamed, her voice echoing through the forest as her body convulsed. Her skin rippled, cracking open in flashes of silver light.

It was nothing like the gentle stories told of one’s first transformation. It was raw, violent, a tearing apart of body and soul.

She fell to her hands and knees, gasping for air as her bones cracked and reshaped. Her ribs expanded, her limbs lengthened, and fur erupted from her skin, soft at first, thick and metallic under the moonlight.

Her vision sharpened, colors dulled, and senses heightened. Every sound and scent came alive: the whisper of the wind, the hum of the trees, the pulse of life around her.

Then it was over. She stood on four legs, chest rising and falling heavily.

The pain faded, replaced by a strange calm. The world looked different now, more apparent, sharper. The scent of pine filled her nose, the dampness of earth under her paws grounding her.

Her wolf danced around in excitement. Running, embracing its form. She looked down at herself, silver fur streaked with black, her form larger and stronger than any wolf she had ever seen. Her reflection in the nearby stream showed glowing gold eyes staring back.

Her wolf was magnificent. But more than that, she was alive.

For the first time, Aveloria didn’t feel separate from herself. The human and the wolf moved as one.

She lifted her head toward the sky and released a deep, fierce, free howl. It rang across the forest, echoing far beyond the palace walls. The sound made the night still, as if even nature paused to listen.

The power running through her veins felt endless. She could feel her heart and wolf’s heart beating together, strong and synchronized.

But the energy burned too quickly. Her body trembled again, weaker this time. The air grew heavy, and her vision flickered. She tried to take a step forward but stumbled. Her paws felt too heavy to move.

What’s happening? she thought, panic rising. Why can’t I—

Her vision darkened, and the forest blurred around her. The last thing she saw was the moon, faintly glowing again, its light returning after the brief shadow.

Then everything went black.