A Pack Divided
The feral wolf hurtled toward Isla, its eyes darkened and its snarls reverberating through the courtyard. Draven moved before anyone else could react, his form shifting in an instant. His massive black wolf collided with the attacker mid-air, slamming it into the ground with a heavy thud.
His growl shook the air. “Seraphine!”
Seraphine stepped back, her hands raised in mock innocence. “Oh dear, is this my fault? Perhaps your Luna just isn’t inspiring enough loyalty.” Her voice was saccharine, but her eyes gleamed with malice.
Isla placed a hand on Draven’s shoulder, her touch grounding him. He turned his amber gaze to her, his wolf still bristling with barely contained rage.
“Let me handle this,” she said softly, her voice cutting through the tension.
Draven hesitated for a moment, but her calm steadied him. He shifted back, his hand trailing over Isla’s wrist as she stepped forward.
Kneeling in front of the snarling wolf, Isla let her voice drop to a soothing tone. “Easy now,” she murmured. Her connection to the pack spread out like a calming wave, brushing against the wolf’s frayed instincts.
The wolf’s growls softened, its trembling slowing until it nudged Isla’s hand with its muzzle. She stroked its fur gently, her voice quiet but resolute. “There you go. No one’s going to hurt you.”
The pack watched in stunned silence as the wolf stilled completely, its loyalty returning with a quiet whimper.
“Well, that’s one way to fix things,” Draven muttered, folding his arms. “Anyone else feeling feral tonight?”
Seraphine’s expression darkened, her forced smile cracking as her temper flared. “This isn’t over,” she snapped.
Draven moved with deliberate steps, gripping her arm tightly enough to make her wince. “Oh, it’s over for you,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “And you’re going to regret every second of this little game.”
Seraphine yanked her arm free, her eyes blazing. “You think you’ve won?” she hissed.
