Years Ago:

Young Nate woke up screaming.

The sound tore violently through the chamber in an ancinisijg way that would startle anyone.

Nate jerked upright on the bed so suddenly that the blankets left his chest, and tangled around his legs. His chest heaved hard while sweat soaked through the thin sleeping shirt clinging to his body.

Nate gasped sharply, his eyes darting wildly around the dark room like he expected the battlefield to still be there waiting for him.

"Nathaniel." A hand grabbed his shoulder firmly but softly.

Nate flinched violently at the touch.

"Look at me."

The presence of a new voice finally cut through the terror clouding his head.

Nate blinked hard. The room slowly returned around him.

The fireplace crackled softly near the far wall and candlelight flickered against dark stone with the scent of herbs lingering heavily in the air.

King Elijah sat beside the bed immediately, still dressed in his duty wears despite the late hour.

Beside him stood the royal healer with concern etched deeply across her face.

Nate’s breathing remained uneven. The nightmare had happened again. For the hundreth time in a roll.

The healer moved closer carefully. "Alpha Nate," she said gently. "Can you hear me?"

Nate swallowed harshly. "Yes." He grunted.

The healer exchanged a glance with Elijah. This had become routine now for about three weeks.

For three entire weeks, Nate had been waking up exactly like this, screaming, sweating, and terrified.

The dreams always returned.

No medicine stopped them, and no sleeping herbs worked long enough to give him enough rest. The healer had eventually begun staying overnight inside Nate’s chambers because Elijah refused to ignore it anymore.

Nate was only eleven. Too young for eyes that haunted him.

Elijah’s grip tightened slightly against Nate’s shoulder. "What did you see this time?"

Nate’s throat tightened.

The images returned immediately. He had seen a battlefield. The sky was blackened by smoke with dead wolves covering the ground.

Then, he saw her.

Nate’s fingers curled tightly into the blankets.

"A girl," he whispered a reply to King Elijah.

The healer stilled faintly.

Elijah’s expression remained calm. "The same one?"

Nate nodded slowly. He haven’t been able to give them content of the nightmare for weeks now, as he had only been able to tell then he saw a girl.

His pulse quickened again as the dream replayed clearer now. "She stood in front of an army."

The healer frowned faintly. "An army?"

Nate nodded again. "An army of faes."

The room fell quieter.

Nate noticed it instantly. His eyes lifted toward Elijah and the healer properly now. They had both gone still, and Nate k ew they know something.

Nate’s chest tightened uneasily.

"She had silver hair," he continued slowly. "Long silver hair, like a cursed wolf."

The healer’s face paled slightly.

Nate noticed that too. Fear crawled faintly into his stomach now.

"I couldn’t see her face," he whispered. "The wind kept covering it with her hair."

Elijah’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, as he listened. He hoped Nate haven’t been having nightmares about the greatest fears of the wolves.

Nate frowned. "But I saw this mark behind her ear." His voice lowered slightly. "A half moon birthmark. Just begind her left ear, as the wind played with her hair."

Silence filled the room. Complete silence.

Nate’s heartbeat began speeding up again.

The healer slowly looked toward Elijah now. Elijah stared ahead grimly.

Nate searched both their faces carefully. Something was wrong.

Children noticed things more than adults realized.

Nate noticed immediately that this was not the first time either of them had heard something like this before.

"What?" Nate demanded softly.

Neither of them answered him.

Nate’s chest tightened harder. "What does it mean?"

Still, he was greated with silence.

Nate’s breathing sharpened faintly. "What aren’t you telling me?"

The healer looked uncomfortable now.

Elijah finally exhaled slowly through his nose.

Nate watched him carefully.

The King leaned back slightly in the chair beside the bed before finally speaking.

"After the war," Elijah began quietly, "the Moon Goddess gave a warning."

Nate frowned faintly. He had a stubborn fire in his eyes, but he still listened.

Elijah’s eyes remained fixed ahead. "She said one day, a fae child would be born among wolves."

The room suddenly felt colder.

Nate stared at him, urging him to continue, and King Elijah continued.

"The moon Goddess, Selene, warned us that she would grow among wolves, learn our ways, and earn our trust."

The healer lowered her eyes quietly.

"And when the time came..." Elijah’s voice darkened faintly, "she would unite the faes again."

Nate’s throat tightened.

"She would rise them against werewolves," Elijah finished quietly. "And end our race."

Silence swallowed the room whole afterward.

Nate stared blankly at him.

At eleven years old, war felt like stories, and prophecies felt impossible.

Yet the seriousness in Elijah’s face made cold settle heavily into Nate’s chest.

"The mark," Nate whispered slowly.

Elijah nodded once.

"The half moon was described in the prophecy. Its the only way we would be able to identify her in the future."

Nate’s pulse quickened again.

His mind immediately returned to the girl from the dream. He remembered her silver hair, the battlefield, and the faes standing behind her in full support.

Nate swallowed harshly. "She looked..." He hesitated faintly.

Elijah’s eyes lifted toward him.

Nate frowned slightly in confusion. "She looked fragile."

The healer blinked.

Elijah’s expression hardened slightly.

Nate looked down at his trembling hands. "She didn’t look evil."

The room fell silent again.

The healer finally spoke quietly. "Prophecies rarely care about intentions."

Nate hated that answer immediately. He hated when people give him parables instead of a direct reply.

Elijah rose slowly from the chair beside the bed.

"You will not speak of this outside this room," he ordered calmly.

Nate looked up at him.

Elijah’s gaze remained firm. "Not to anyone."

Nate nodded slowly.

Present Day.

Aire blinked slowly as she listened to Madam speak about younger Nate. The room remained quiet after Madam finished speaking.

The fireplace crackled softly nearby while the weight of the story settled heavily between them.

Aire stared at Madam for several long seconds before finally laughing weakly.

"That’s ridiculous."

Madam remained silent.

Aire shook her head immediately. "No."

She sat straighter against the bed now, disbelief written clearly across her face. "You cannot seriously believe that."

Madam’s expression stayed unreadable.

Aire frowned harder. "A fae born among wolves who ends an entire race?" She scoffed faintly. "That sounds like a story used to frighten children."

Madam watched her carefully.

Aire continued shaking her head.

"I barely understand wolves myself," she muttered. "How exactly am I supposed to lead faes into war?"

The very thought sounded absurd.

Aire laughed again softly, though this one held less humor. "I don’t even know any faes. I’m not a fae. I’m a werewolf."

Madam’s gaze lowered briefly toward the half moon hidden beneath Aire’s ear.

Aire noticed immediately.

Her amusement faded slightly. "You believe this prophecy."

Madam exhaled slowly. "I believe prophecies exist for a reason."

Aire stared at her.

"No," she replied immediately. "This is impossible."

Her voice grew firmer now. "I am not assembling anyone. Why don’t anyone ever just let me exist?"

Madam remained quiet.

Aire suddenly felt exhausted. She felt truly exhausted.

The events from tonight already sat too heavily inside her chest. Nate’s attack still replayed painfully in her mind.

And now this?

Some prophecy about faes and war?

It felt insane.

Aire pressed her fingers briefly against her forehead. "This makes no sense," she whispered tiredly.

Madam stepped slightly closer. "Aire—"

"No." Aire shook her head immediately. "No more tonight."

Her chest felt too tight already.

The room suddenly felt suffocating again.

Aire slowly pulled the blanket closer around herself before looking away from Madam entirely.

"I need sleep."

Madam’s expression softened faintly. "You’re injured."

Aire’s fingers moved unconsciously toward her neck where Nate’s claws had torn through skin earlier.

The cuts still burned faintly. "I’ll heal."

Madam frowned instantly. "Not quickly enough."

Aire closed her eyes briefly. She did not want anyone touching her tonight. Not after everything.

Madam moved toward the table where healing herbs she gathered while telling Aire what she needed to know rested nearby.

"At least let me clean the wounds properly."

Aire shook her head immediately. "No."

Madam turned toward her fully now. "Aire."

"I said no." Aire refused sharply.

Silence existed between them.

Aire exhaled shakily before speaking quieter this time. "I just..." Her throat tightened slightly. "I need to be alone."

Madam watched her carefully.

Aire couldn’t bear another conversation tonight. Everything inside her already felt too unstable.

Madam’s gaze softened further now.

For a moment, Aire thought she might argue again.

Instead, Madam sighed quietly. "You should not sleep with untreated wounds."

Aire looked away stubbornly.

Madam stood there another few seconds before finally nodding once. "Fine."

Aire relaxed faintly.

Madam walked slowly toward the door but paused before opening it. "Aire."

Aire lifted her eyes toward her tiredly.

Madam hesitated briefly.

Then quietly, she said, "Whether you believe the prophecy or not... Nate believed what he saw tonight."

Aire’s throat tightened instantly.

Madam opened the door slowly. "And frightened wolves," she added softly, "are dangerous creatures."

She left the room, and softly closed the door behind her.