Aries had not been born into power. His family stood near the bottom of the Vale pack hierarchy for generations. Weak influence. Little authority. The kind of bloodline noble wolves barely acknowledged during gatherings. Perhaps that was why the sudden birth of a monster terrified everyone so deeply.

Because power was only admired when it belonged to the right people. And Aries had been born in the wrong family. The moment his wolf awakened too early, fear spread through the pack like poison. Not because history books spoke about him. But because the wolves around him began creating stories themselves. Whispers and rumors. Claims meant to provoke fear within neighboring packs.

They called him cursed. A Shadowfang reborn. A wolf destined to destroy entire territories once fully grown. The stories became darker with each passing month. And eventually, the pack stopped spreading rumors out of fear. They spread them deliberately. Because if enough wolves believed Aries was dangerous enough, someone else would eventually hunt him down for them. It was easier that way. Cleaner.

Cowards preferred monsters when they needed excuses for cruelty. Meanwhile Aries, barely eight years old, sensed every bit of it. The fear hidden beneath smiles. The killing intent buried beneath fake concern. He could hear heartbeats change whenever he entered rooms. Smell hostility lingering behind polite conversations. And perhaps that had been the cruelest part of all. A child should not understand those things. Yet Aries learned too early what power truly meant within werewolf society.

The stronger someone became, the more people wished for their death. Eventually fear became stronger than loyalty. And loyalty within packs was always fragile. So quietly, the decision was made.

The cub would die before he became impossible to control.

An “accident.” A hunt gone wrong. A beast lost within the forest. Anything would suffice so long as the problem disappeared.

Aries understood all of it long before the assassins ever arrived. Because monsters recognize fear easily. And perhaps that was why he never screamed while running through the storm that night. Never cried or begged for help even as blood stained silver fur beneath freezing rain because somewhere deep down, the eight-year-old cub had already realized something horrifying.

No one was coming to save him. Until a tiny wolfless girl looked at the trembling creature beneath the storm and chose to protect him instead.

...

Rain poured mercilessly through the forest that night.

The eight-year-old cub could barely feel his legs anymore as he stumbled through mud and dead leaves, blood staining silver fur while distant howls echoed somewhere behind him. They were still hunting him. Even now. Even after he had stopped fighting back. Aries could smell them through the storm. Fear. Hatred. Relief. The scent of wolves convincing themselves they were doing the right thing. His body finally collapsed beneath the roots of an old tree. Exhaustion dragged heavily against his consciousness. The rain soaked through his fur mercilessly while freezing wind clawed against open wounds.

And for the first time, the terrifying little cub simply waited. Perhaps this was how monsters died. Alone and quietly forgotten beneath storms.

Then suddenly, warmth. Tiny trembling hands carefully pulled him closer beneath an oversized hood. The unfamiliar scent of smoke, rainwater, and wildflowers surrounded him cautiously.

Aries froze instantly. Glowing blue eyes lifted slowly toward the strange little girl crouched beside him. She looked miserable herself shivering badly beneath an oversized hood. Yet despite that, She kept trying to shield him from the rain instead of herself. Aries could hear her heartbeat clearly. But not because of him. That was the first thing that confused him. Every wolf feared him eventually. Even adults. Yet this tiny wolfless girl only looked worried. Worried for him. The realization unsettled him more than violence ever had.

Her fingers brushed carefully through soaked silver fur while soft humming slipped past trembling lips.

A lullaby.

She was singing to him. Aries stared at her silently, unable to understand what he was sensing. Because there was no killing intent hidden beneath her touch. Just genuine concern. As though protecting him mattered naturally to her. It felt wrong. Impossible.

His wolf remained strangely quiet beneath her hands for the first time in years. The violent instincts constantly clawing beneath his skin slowly settled the longer she held him close. Even his heartbeat began calming against his will. Warm and safe. The sensations felt unfamiliar enough to terrify him more than the storm itself. The little girl continued shivering while trying to wrap him more securely beneath her hood. Protecting him.

A dangerous wolf she knew absolutely nothing about. And somewhere within the chaos of rain and exhaustion, something inside Aries broke quietly beyond repair because for the first time in his life, someone touched him without wanting anything in return.