Prologue
Prologue
"Sister, hurry! Catch me! Hahaha! You’re so slow!" the younger girl’s voice rang through the open field, her laughter echoing under the warm rays of the late afternoon sun.
Her bare feet brushed against the tall grass as she sprinted ahead, arms spread wide like she was flying. The wind danced with her long black hair, and her carefree joy lit up the entire meadow. She was fast—light as air, nimble like she’d done it a thousand times.
Behind her, the older sister struggled to keep up, already breathless, cheeks flushed from the chase.
"I’m not slow—you’re just a cheater!" the older girl huffed, stopping briefly to bend over and catch her breath, hands on her knees.
"Yeah right! Then why are you always behind me?" the younger one teased, sticking out her tongue before spinning around to face her sister.
"I’m just letting you win," she muttered, rolling her eyes in mock annoyance. Her smile betrayed her affection.
"As if! You’re already out of breath!" the younger girl mocked, arms crossing over her chest in triumphant sass.
"Hey! I’m just resting, okay?" the older one snapped playfully.
"Whatever you say! You just won’t admit it—it’s true anyway," the younger said, grinning from ear to ear.
The sound of their laughter filled the clearing again, vibrant and alive. It was one of those rare moments when everything felt simple—just two sisters, running free under the sun with nothing but teasing words and giggles.
But the moment didn’t last.
A sudden rustling broke the rhythm. Leaves trembled, birds scattered from the trees above, and a chill swept over the warm air like an unseen shadow.
The laughter stopped.
"Did you hear that?" the younger girl asked, her tone dropping instantly. Her senses sharpened, and she took a cautious step closer to her sister.
"Of course," the older one replied, all playfulness gone. Her posture shifted—alert, tense. Her eyes scanned the treeline.
The sisters didn’t need words. With just a glance, they both knew—they weren’t alone anymore.
"Be ready," the younger girl murmured.
Silence fell. Not even the wind dared to move. The grass no longer swayed. The world held its breath.
Then, like demons creeping out of nightmares, three massive wolves emerged from the shadows of the forest. Their eyes glowed with bloodlust, fangs bared, saliva dripping from their jaws. Their snarls echoed through the meadow like a death sentence.
The sisters didn’t flinch. They didn’t scream or back away. They stood tall, shoulders squared, eyes fierce.
"They want us dead," the younger one said quietly, her voice calm and oddly devoid of emotion.
"Yeah. I know," the older sister replied, her gaze never leaving the enemy.
The three wolves growled, muscles tightening, ready to strike.
And then, in perfect sync, the sisters shifted.
In a brilliant flash of energy and power, their human forms disappeared. Where two girls once stood now rose two magnificent wolves—larger, more majestic, more terrifying than anything the enemy had ever seen.
The older sister’s fur was a deep obsidian black, sleek and gleaming under the sunlight. Her eyes glowed gold, fierce and commanding. She exuded authority, her posture regal and proud.
The younger sister’s wolf form was silver-white, radiant like moonlight. Her fur shimmered as if the stars were stitched into every strand. Her eyes were a pale violet, cold and calculating, but with a spark of fire just beneath the surface.
The intruders hesitated.
This wasn’t what they expected.
These weren’t ordinary wolves. They were something else. Something ancient. Something powerful.
Before the enemy could react, the older sister lunged forward in a flash, pure speed and fury. She clamped her jaws around one wolf’s throat, tearing it open with a sickening crunch. Blood sprayed across the grass.
Before the second could retreat, she turned, sank her fangs into its side, and crushed its spine in one swift bite. Its body slumped to the ground, lifeless.
Meanwhile, the younger sister didn’t move as quickly. She circled the third, her violet eyes analyzing, calculating. She darted forward, bit its leg, then retreated. Toying with it. Watching it suffer. She enjoyed seeing its fear grow.
Finally, when she had enough, she lunged for its neck and ended it.
Silence fell once more.
Blood stained the grass. The bodies of the three intruders lay motionless at the sisters' feet.
Then, just like that, they shifted back to their human forms—flawlessly, effortlessly.
Both of them stood in the clearing again, their skin unmarred, their clothes untouched, as if the brutal attack had never happened. The only signs were the blood on their hands and the glint of something primal in their eyes.
"Hahaha! I thought you didn’t have anything left in you, Ate!" the younger one teased, nudging her sister playfully.
"Shut up!" the older one replied with a laugh, nudging her back.
It was like nothing had happened. Like they hadn't just killed three full-grown wolves with barely any effort. As they walked home through the tall grass, side by side, the sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting a golden glow around them.
They looked like ordinary sisters—laughing, teasing, walking home barefoot and wild-hearted.
But they weren’t ordinary.
They never had been.
They were born different. Born powerful. Raised in secret and trained in silence. The world outside didn’t know about them—and that’s how it had to stay. Their existence was dangerous. Their bloodline forbidden.
They were the last of their kind.
Born of moonlight and shadows. Of prophecy and blood.
Their mother used to tell them stories at night—about the Primordial Pack, about wolves who could command the elements, who could heal with a single howl, who could tear open realms between life and death.
They thought those were just bedtime stories.
Until they started to change.
Until the dreams began.
Until the day their mother died protecting them from the same kind of wolves they had just killed.
Now, they carried that weight.
They weren’t just sisters.
They were survivors. Warriors. Heirs to something ancient.
And they were being hunted.
"I wonder if Mom saw this coming," the older sister said quietly, her tone suddenly solemn.
"She always knew more than she told us," the younger replied, voice soft but steady.
They fell silent again. The wind blew gently this time, as if mourning.
They both knew this wasn’t the last attack. More would come. Stronger. Smarter. The enemies they faced weren’t just random rogues. They were part of something bigger—something dark that lurked just beyond the horizon.
The sisters quickened their pace.
They needed to reach home before nightfall. Before the next set of eyes found them.
Because secrets like theirs never stayed hidden for long.
And power like theirs?
It always came with a price.