Chapter 10
The Cub Who Saved His Pack
The air in the den hung thick with the scent of worry, a cloying sweetness that Kai’s young nose found almost unbearable. He sat by the hearth, his small hands tracing the worn patterns in the stone, his ears straining to catch the hushed tones of the elders. Their voices, usually a comforting rumble like the purr of a contented wolf, were now sharp with a fear that prickled Kai’s fur – or the fur he imagined lay just beneath his skin.
Elder Maeve, her silver-streaked fur a testament to countless moons, spoke with a voice that was both a whisper and a command. "The Moonpetal… it is our only hope. But the lore is clear. Only a true wolf, one whose spirit runs as deep as the ancient forests, can find it."
Kai’s heart gave a leap, a frantic flutter against his ribs. A cure. A true wolf. He looked down at his hands, so small and soft, so very human. Yet, when the moon was full, when the wild called to him, he felt a different kind of strength surge through him, a power that made him want to howl at the stars. He knew, with a certainty that bypassed his mind and settled deep in his bones, that he was a true wolf.
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