Luna's Rage: Who Killed My Son?

As Darkwood Pack celebrated their hard-fought victory, cheers, and laughter filling the air, I felt like an outsider in my home. The sounds of their joy were a cruel contrast to the heavy weight of grief that pressed down on my heart. I couldn’t bear to be there, amidst their revelry, while my son lay cold and lifeless.

Without hesitation, I made my decision. I needed answers, a sliver of hope—anything to save Aiden. While the others were busy celebrating with Rylan, I slipped away. Shifting into my wolf form, a sleek silver with piercing blue eyes, I gently placed Aiden’s body on my back. His frame felt unbearably light.

I moved swiftly through the forest, my paws barely making a sound on the forest floor. The journey to the neighboring town was a blur of trees and shadows. My mind focused solely on reaching the witch healer. Every step was a desperate plea, a prayer that there might still be a chance to bring Aiden back.

Arriving at the witch’s cottage, I shifted back to my human form, cradling Aiden in my arms as I knocked frantically on the door. An elderly woman with wise eyes opened it, her expression softening as she took in the sight before her.

“Please,” I begged, my voice trembling. “My son… I need your help.”

She stepped aside, allowing me to enter. “Come in, child. Lay him here,” she instructed, gesturing to a wooden table covered with a patchwork quilt. I gently placed Aiden down, my hands shaking as I did so.

The witch moved with practiced ease, her hands glowing softly as she examined Aiden. Her brow furrowed, and she let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “He’s gone.”

My knees buckled, and I clutched the edge of the table to steady myself. “No… there must be something you can do. Please, anything.”

Before the witch could respond, another figure emerged from the shadows of the room. An old woman, her eyes sharp and knowing, her presence commanding. “There is more to this than meets the eye,” she said, her voice a whisper of power. “I am the oldest healer witch. Let me see the boy.”

The first witch stepped back, a look of respect on her face. The elder approached Aiden, her gnarled hands hovering over his body. She closed her eyes, murmuring an incantation under her breath. A soft glow enveloped Aiden, and I held my breath, hope and fear warring within me.

After what felt like an eternity, the elder witch opened her eyes, her gaze meeting mine. “He is in a deep slumber, a state between life and death..."

...

When I arrived at the pack, everyone was still celebrating. They were dancing, singing, and howling as the moon shimmered through the light of the bonfire. From the shadows, I watched with tired eyes and trembling hands, fury bubbling within me. They were all here, feasting and looking so happy. Yet, no one cared—no one cared for my son! Not even his father!

I heard Alpha Rylan's mother, Elder Maris, praising him. "My son, you did a great job defeating the Grimrose Pack. Now we can be considered the strongest in the region."

It had been days, and they were still celebrating. Indeed, defeating the Grimrose Pack was a big deal. We had been rivals for years, and from my perspective, they were much stronger than us. Their Alpha was formidable, or so I had heard. I didn't know how it happened, and I didn't know why they rushed to ambush us, knowing they used to be meticulous in their every move. But should I care about that now that I have greater things to worry about?