Page 3 of Wolf Proclaimed

A bitter laugh had risen in my throat. Peace. It seemed such a foreign concept, an elusive dream becoming more unattainable with each passing day. But now, lost within the strange territory, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, my mother's wisdom bore into me. I clung to her words, hoping for clarity.

Aware that somehow, I must remain real, I had to clutch onto whatever shards of sanity remained lest I lose myself completely. Every fiber of my being, every remaining piece of who I was—the daughter, the sister, the would-be alpha—clung desperately to that reality, grounding me against the rising tide.

I must persevere!

The blizzard quieted as Bastian, and I crested a rocky knoll. I gasped as the foreign pack's territory stretched out before me. It was a sprawling landscape of dark forests and snow-capped mountains. It was wild and untamed, a land that sang songs of ancient battles and secret whispers of the moon. There was a primal beauty to it that my wolf yearned for, a stark contrast to the witch's preference for the orderly chaos of the human world.

The pack's members moved with a familiarity that screamed of a shared history, a camaraderie I could only imagine and envy. Their laughter reverberated through the trees, their eyes held an unspoken understanding, and their bodies moved with the fluid grace that only a pack of wolf shifters could muster. I was a stranger in their midst, a puzzle they were trying to figure out. I could see their curiosity, the questions they dared not ask. I was an enigma, a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit their intricate pattern.

Bastian's presence loomed beside me as he began the introduction. "This is my territory, Mira," he said, gesturing to the wild expanse before us. His voice was a soft growl, akin to the rustling of leaves in a silent forest full of ancient wisdom and hidden secrets. It resonated deep within me, causing a strange flutter in my chest. His scent—earth and pine—filled my senses, a primal call to my wolf side.

"And the pack?" I asked, my voice steadier than I felt.

His gaze swept over the bustling crowd—the pack. "They're curious about you," he admitted. "But they will accept you in time."

A bitter chuckle escaped my lips. Acceptance. A word that held little meaning in my life. "What if I don't want to be accepted? What if I don't want to stay?"

Something flickered in Bastian's eyes—regret, perhaps, or understanding. "You're not a prisoner here, Mira. You're free to choose your path."

Was I? Could I choose a path that didn't involve war within and outside? My gaze found Bastian's. His eyes held a quiet intensity, a calm within a storm. This alpha was not my alpha, nor my pack, and yet… "Why did you bring me here, Bastian?"

His answer was a long time coming, a silent moment stretched into eternity. "Because you needed a sanctuary, Mira. And maybe, just maybe, you might find it here.

Sanctuary—it sounded foreign on my lips, like a forgotten memory. His words brought no comfort, only a deepening confusion. Despite my skepticism, I wondered if his prophecy would hold true.

Feeling the weight of his words, I wandered through the front door of his cabin. I spun away from his gaze, an icy pang of panic slicing through me. "Help me?" I scoffed, "Or pity me?" I threw the question over my shoulder, hearing the bitterness in my tone.

"No," Bastian replied, his voice steady. "Not pity, Mira. Understanding, perhaps."

His words followed me like a shadow as I paced the room, my restlessness a beast clawing at my insides. "And what makes you think you understand me, Bastian?" I finally spat out, stopping in my tracks to glare at him.

His gaze didn't waver under my scrutiny, a quiet intensity burning in his eyes. "Because I see it, Mira," he said, his voice low and urgent. "The war within you, the torment. It's reflected in your eyes, how you hold yourself, and how you pull away from everyone."

I laughed, a harsh, bitter sound that bounced off the walls, the echo a mockery of my own denial. "And what? You're going to save me from me?"

"I can't do that, Mira," he replied, a sad smile touching his lips. "No one can. But what I can do is be here for you. Help you find peace if you'll let me."

His words hung in the air between us, an open-ended promise that tangled with my tumultuous emotions, twining into knots of defiance and desperation. I looked at him, this alpha who was a stranger, yet one willing to stand by me in my personal raging storm. It was almost laughable, this absurdity of a reality that was my life. With a bitter laugh that reverberated in the silence, I yanked the door open, the icy winter air slicing through the stifling warmth of the room.

Something in me snapped at his words, and a torrent of desperation, fear, and anger roiled to the surface. "I didn't ask for your help!" I spat out, my voice cold in the desolate landscape. Whirling to face him, my words seemed to hang frozen in the air, "I didn't ask to be brought here. I didn't ask for any of this!"

The raw truth of my words filled the space between us, crashing into the silence like waves onto a rocky shore, a defiant proclamation of my unwilling role in this tangled narrative.

Without another word, I stepped out into the biting cold, the icy chill a sharp contrast against the deceptive warmth of the room behind me. Snow was beginning to fall again, blanketing the landscape deeper in the fluffy white shroud. The wind howled in my ears, a chilling symphony that matched the turmoil within me.

Every instinct and survival skill ingrained within my being screamed at me to turn back and return to shelter and warmth. But I was done listening to reason, done with the tug of war between my witch and wolf sides, done being a pawn in a game I never wished to play.

I launched myself into the onslaught of the blizzard, my bare feet sinking into the soft snow. The biting cold pierced through my clothing, but I pressed on, the promise of freedom fueling my determination. I could feel Bastian's gaze on me, the heavy weight of it a silent plea for me to stop. But his words and promises felt like chains, bindings that threatened to shackle me in this gilded cage.

No! I would not let that happen.

The landscape was a blur of white and gray, a world stripped of color, reflecting my own internal strife. The cold was numbing, a sharp contrast to the searing fire within me. I pushed on, my breath misting in the frigid air, my heart pounding a reckless rhythm against my ribs.

The wind howled, a wild, untamed symphony that echoed my own turmoil. Snowflakes whipped around me, stinging my exposed skin, but I pressed on, my resolve unwavering. I was a creature of defiance, a creature of survival. And if I had to run headfirst into a blizzard to keep my freedom, then so be it, even if I had no idea where I was going.

This was my act of rebellion, a statement of my refusal to be bound by the expectations of others. I was Mira, a hybrid torn between two worlds, but above all, I was a fighter. However ill-conceived, my journey into the heart of the storm was a testament to that defiance, a beacon of my desperation and, perhaps, my only hope for finding peace amidst the chaos.

Bastian's shout pierced the wailing symphony of the blizzard, the urgency in his voice resonating clearly and true. "Mira!" he called, and then again, louder, more desperate. "Mira!" His voice starkly contrasted the cacophony of the storm, his concern for me echoing across the ice-bound expanse. But I couldn't turn back, wouldn't turn back. I was in pursuit of something intangible, elusive—my freedom—and I knew it lay ahead, somewhere beyond the biting gusts and flurrying snow, not in the sheltered world I had left behind.

---