Two.

Eirlys POV:

I know, sweetheart. I know it does.” I pressed my lips to the top of his fuzzy head, breathing him in. “Just breathe with me, okay?”

“I don’t want to be a puppy anymore,” he whined, the sound breaking my heart into pieces.

A sob slipped out before I could catch it. “You’ll change back, honey. I promise you will.”

I prayed with everything in me that I wasn’t lying to him.

Every pup in our world dreamed about their first shift. Most didn’t go through it until they were twelve, thirteen… sometimes even older. But Auren had just turned four.

Four.

Nothing about this was normal. Nothing about this was safe.

I stood up on shaky legs and rushed around the cottage, yanking every curtain closed with frantic hands. My fingers fumbled on the fabric as my mind raced.

If anyone saw him like this… No. I couldn’t even let myself finish that thought.

Our village thrived on gossip almost as much as it loved handing out punishment. A fatherless child shifting years—YEARS—before anyone else? By sunset the rumors would be flying to every neighboring pack, and by tomorrow the whole territory would know.

Auren whimpered softly against me. “I’m so tired, Mama.”

“It’s alright, my love. Let’s get you to bed.” I carried him to my own bed, wrapping him carefully in my old quilt that still smelled like home and safety.

Within minutes, his tiny wolf body started glowing with a faint silver light. It grew brighter and brighter until I had to shield my eyes. When the light finally faded, my little boy lay curled up beneath the blanket, completely human again and fast asleep like nothing extraordinary had happened.

Relief hit me so hard my knees nearly buckled. I sank down beside the bed and brushed the dark curls back from his forehead. His skin felt normal. His breathing was steady and peaceful. For a moment, I let myself believe it had all been some strange dream.

Then a loud knock sounded against the front door.

Not a polite knock. Three heavy blows that rattled the walls and made my pulse spike. Nobody visited after sunset. Not ever.

Another knock came, even harder than the first.

“Eirlys Thorne.” A man’s voice carried through the wood, deep, steady, and completely unfamiliar. “Open the door.”

Every instinct screamed at me to stay quiet and hide but I knew better than that. The door was too old to hold out any heavy force. So Instead, I grabbed the heavy iron poker from beside the fireplace, gripping it tight.

If anyone wanted to hurt my son, they’d have to go through me first.

I cracked the door open just enough to peek outside, keeping my body braced against it.

Five men stood on my porch, all dressed in sleek black leather armor. Each one wore a silver wolf crest stitched over the heart. I’d never seen armor like that, and I’d never seen wolves who carried themselves with such terrifying discipline and control.

The one in front slowly removed his gloves, his movements calm and measured.

“We’re looking for a child,” he said.

Ice flooded my veins. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His gaze stayed locked on my face. “A male child.”

“You’ve got the wrong house,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

He tilted his head just slightly. “I don’t think so.”

My grip on the poker tightened until my knuckles ached. “My son is asleep.”

“So he *is* here.”

"Damn it." I cussed. My own silence had given him the answer.

“I’ll ask one last time,” he said, his voice still calm and even. “May we come inside?”

“No,” I answered firmly, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat.

Something flickered across his face. Not anger. If anything, it looked like… respect.

“As you wish.” He took a step back.

I blinked, caught completely off guard.

That was it? No forcing his way in? No threats?

The other soldiers looked just as surprised as I felt.

One of them leaned closer. “General…”

The man lifted a hand, silencing him instantly, then turned back to me.

“I apologize for disturbing your evening,” he said quietly.

Then… he bowed.

Actually bowed. To ME?

“I’ll return tomorrow,” he added before he and the others melted back into the darkness without another word.

I slammed the door shut, locked it with trembling fingers, and checked every single window twice, making sure everything was secured tight.

Who the hell were they? How did they know about Auren? And why had that man looked at me with such quiet certainty, like he’d already found exactly what he came for?

Those questions chased each other around my head all night. I barely slept a wink until the sun finally crept over the mountains.

****

“Mama?” Auren murmured sleepily as he climbed into my lap the next morning, rubbing his tired eyes with little fists.

I glanced toward the window and froze.

The entire village square was packed with wolves. Hundreds of them. Rows and rows of silver-armored soldiers standing perfectly still like statues.

Right at the center was the same man from last night.

He looked straight up at our cottage the exact moment I looked at the window, like he’d been waiting for it.

Then, without breaking eye contact, he slowly dropped to one knee.

Behind him, every single soldier followed, the sound of hundreds of knees hitting the ground rumbling through the earth like distant thunder.

Auren gasped. “Mama… what’s happening outside?”

I yanked the curtain closed fast, my stomach twisting with fear.

I couldn’t even answer him because I had this terrifying feeling deep in my bones that they hadn’t come for me.

They had come for...no, no. I won't let them. Not while I'm breathing.

Auren pressed his little face against the window anyway, completely fascinated. “They’re bowing, Mama,” he whispered in total awe, peeling the curtain back just enough to peek through with one big silver eye.

“I can see that,” I muttered, my voice coming out all shaky and thin. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling as I stood there behind him.

“But why?” he asked, turning those wide, curious eyes up at me like I was supposed to have all the answers in the world.

I couldn’t help it—I leaned in and peeped through the curtains too. The soldiers stayed perfectly still out there, heads bowed low like they were waiting for permission to even breathe. The whole square had gone eerily quiet except for the soft morning wind rustling through the trees.

The man in front rose slowly to his feet. His dark cloak shifted in the breeze, revealing that silver crest on his chest, a fierce wolf wrapped around a sword.

That wasn’t just any pack symbol I’d ever seen before. That was a military insignia. The kind mothers around here used to scare their pups straight when they were acting up.

“Be good, or the Warlord’s Legion will come for you,” they’d always say. And those kids would straighten right up, eyes wide with fear, because nobody wanted that kind of trouble.

No… this couldn’t be happening. Not to us. Not to our quiet little life in this tiny cottage.

A sharp knock echoed through the cottage then—three calm, measured raps on the door. Not pushy or loud. Just patient, like whoever it was could wait all day if they had to.

I looked down at Auren, my stomach twisting into knots. “Go to your room, sweetheart. Right now.”

“But Mama—”

“Now, please,” I said, trying to keep my voice gentle even though my heart was hammering.

His little shoulders slumped in that way that always broke my heart. “Okay…”

He hugged his wooden Wolfie tight against his chest, the little carving pressed close like a shield, and padded down the hallway with slow, reluctant steps.

Only after I heard his bedroom door click shut did I take a deep breath and unlock the front door.

The man stood exactly where he’d been the night before, tall and solid as ever.

Up close, he was even more intimidating. Broad-shouldered, with a face that looked like it had been carved from stone. Handsome in a cold, distant sort of way that made it hard to read what he was really thinking.

His eyes studied me with that same unsettling calm, like nothing in the world could rattle him.

“I’m General Rhydian Kaelor,” he said evenly.

“I don’t care who you are,” I shot back, my voice harder than I expected.

One of the soldiers behind him sucked in a sharp breath, clearly shocked.

Nobody talked to their general like that, I guessed.

But Rhydian didn’t even flinch. He just stood there, steady as a rock.

“I’m here because of the child,” he said.

“My son isn’t going anywhere with you,” I told him, gripping the edge of the door so tight my fingers hurt.

“I didn’t say he was.”

“Then why are you here?” I demanded, my pulse racing.

He stayed quiet for several long seconds, long enough that it made my skin crawl and my mind start spinning with all the worst possibilities.

Then he reached slowly into his coat.

Every soldier around him tensed up instantly, hands hovering near their weapons.

I tightened my grip on the door, ready to slam it shut in their faces if I had to.

Instead, he pulled out a small leather pouch and carefully took out a silver marble no bigger than a walnut. He held it toward me.

“May I?” he asked.

“No,” I said flat out.

His lips twitched, just the tiniest hint of amusement, like he hadn’t expected me to push back.

“You don’t trust me,” he said.

“Should I?” I challenged.

“No,” he answered, honest as anything.

That caught me off guard for a second.

“I suppose not,” he added quietly. Then he gently rolled the marble across the porch floor. It stopped right at my feet.

Nothing happened at first. The morning light just caught on its shiny surface.

Then Auren’s bedroom door creaked open behind me.

“Mama?” his little voice called out, sleepy and curious.

The marble suddenly lit up, blinding silver light exploding across the whole porch in a flash.

Every soldier dropped to one knee again in perfect sync. Even the general.