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Chapter 17

The woods were alive with whispers.

The wind rustled through the ancient trees, their towering forms casting eerie shadows under the crimson glow of the full moon. Bavanda’s breath came out in short, uneven bursts as she followed Theresa deeper into the dark.

She shouldn’t be here—she knew that—and yet, she couldn’t stop.

Theresa walked ahead of her, calm and confident, as though the night itself bowed to her presence. The silver-haired girl barely made a sound as she moved through the thick underbrush, her pale skin illuminated by the eerie light.

Bavanda swallowed hard. Her body was tense, her wolf restless beneath her skin. “Theresa… I'm not sure about this anymore. We… we shouldn't be here.”

Theresa stopped, her dark eyes glowing in the dark as they landed on Bavanda.

Bavanda ignored the piercing gaze in her eyes, insistent on conveying what she felt. "Let's go back. Let's go back, they won't even know we left. I don't want to to do this anymore.”

Theresa's face remained expressionless, one could definitely not tell what she was feeling at that moment. The next minute, her lips curved into a smile. "You don't want to do what?” She began, cocking her head to the side. "You don't want to get the answers you are desperately looking for? You don't want to be able to guide the change that's happening to you?”

She paused, letting her words sink in to Bavanda's ears. "You don't want to prove to your parents that you're not a monster?”

These last words were all Bavanda needed. Her hesitation still crawled underneath her skin, but she was desperate to prove to her parents that she was still their daughter, hence she was willing to do anything.

She reached out for Theresa's hand. “Are you sure about this, Theresa? You're sure nothing is going to go wrong. Right?" 

Theresa didn't respond, instead, she patted Bavanda's hand lightly before pulling her's away.

“This is the place,” Theresa finally whispered, stopping in a small clearing surrounded by towering, gnarled trees. The ground beneath them was unnaturally smooth, the dirt almost black.

Bavanda’s stomach twisted. This place felt… wrong.

Theresa turned to face her, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Are you ready?”

Bavanda hesitated. A voice in her head—a voice that sounded a lot like her mother’s—screamed at her to turn back, but it was too late for that.

She clenched her fists. “Yes.”

Theresa’s grin widened. “Good.”

She moved to the center of the clearing, kneeling down and pressing her palm against the dark soil. Immediately, the air shifted.

A pulse of energy rippled outward, making Bavanda shiver. The trees groaned, as if reacting to something unseen. The wind howled through the branches, carrying hushed voices, their words indistinguishable but urgent.

Bavanda’s heart pounded. “What is this?” she asked, stepping forward.

Theresa looked up at her, her silver eyes gleaming. “The beginning.”

She reached into her cloak and pulled out a small, jagged dagger. Its blackened blade shimmered under the moonlight, as if drinking in the night itself.

Bavanda’s pulse quickened.

Theresa held the dagger out to her. “You must spill blood to awaken your true self.”

Bavanda hesitated. “Spill… blood?”

Theresa nodded. “Just a few drops. Enough to break the seal binding you.”

Binding her? Her grip tightened around the blade.

A thousand doubts screamed at her to stop, but she had to do this. If she wanted her life back, she had to do this. 

Slowly, Bavanda pressed the tip of the dagger against her palm. And sliced.

A sharp sting radiated through her veins, followed by a trickle of blood. The second the first drop hit the ground, the earth trembled.

A low, deep rumble shook through the clearing, and Bavanda gasped as a powerful force slammed into her chest.

She staggered back.

The air grew thick, almost suffocating. The shadows around them twisted unnaturally, stretching toward her like living things.

Then she heard them—the whispers.

They weren’t in her head anymore. They spoke from every corner of the darkness—calling her name.

“Bavanda…”

Her body burned. Her veins turned to fire, her muscles locked up. She doubled over, gasping, her vision reeling.

Something was changing.

Theresa’s voice was distant, echoing as though from another world. “Don’t fight it.”

Bavanda fell to her knees, a sharp cry escaping her lips as pain exploded through her limbs.

Her bones shifted, snapped and stretched—all at the same time. Her claws grew—longer, sharper.

Her breath hitched as she caught sight of her own hands. Guess, they weren't left out. 

Her hands weren’t hands anymore.

A twisted, gnarled version of her wolf form took shape—larger than any werewolf she had ever seen. Twice the size of an Alpha. Its fur was black as smoke, the edges curling like tendrils of shadow.

Her eyes—her own eyes—were glowing, but not with the usual golden hue of her wolf.

They were red.

Theresa stepped forward, eyes full of awe. “You’re almost ready,” she whispered.

Bavanda opened her mouth to speak—but the only thing that came out was a growl. A deep, unnatural sound that didn’t belong to her.

Her panic surged. She tried to shift back—but she couldn’t. Her body refused to listen.

A wave of agony crashed over her, and she threw her head back, releasing a howl so powerful, so wrong, that it sent a shiver through the night itself.

And far away, back in the packhouse, Avynna and Baron felt it.

Avynna shot up from her seat, her heart pounding.

She felt it. The same way she always felt when Bavanda was in danger—but this time, it was different.

This time, she felt like she was losing her.

Baron’s expression was grim. He had felt it too. “Something’s wrong.”

Before Avynna could respond, a familiar voice spoke from the doorway. “I need to see her.”

Nancy.

The woman’s eyes were sharp, her face set with urgency.

Avynna wasted no time. “She’s with Theresa. Something’s happening, Nancy. I can feel it.”

Nancy’s jaw tightened. “I was wrong,” she said, her voice heavy with regret.

Baron frowned. “What do you mean?”

Nancy pulled a worn, ancient book from her bag, flipping it open. Her finger traced a dark, faded symbol.

“The mark on Theresa’s neck,” she whispered. “I didn’t recognize it before, but I found it here. It belongs to an old order—a cult tied to an ancient dark magic. The dark Lord tried to wield the powers but he couldn't reach it, she… she is part of them.”

Avynna’s stomach dropped. Baron’s fists clenched.

“No,” Avynna whispered. “No, she…she can’t be…”

Nancy shut the book with a snap. “She is.”

Baron swore under his breath. “Then Bavanda is in more danger than we thought.”

Avynna’s throat tightened. “We have to find her.”

Nancy hesitated. Her voice was quiet, almost reluctant. “It may already be too late.”

Avynna’s hands shook. Her worst fear was coming true. She was losing her daughter.

At that moment, the door flew open and Steve barged in. One didn't need to look twice to know the news he came bearing wasn't good.

Baron shot to his feet. “What's wrong?" 

Steve didn't hesitate. “We caught movement at our borders. Warriors at the gate said they heard a mundane roar, totally different from all that we've heard." He delivered.

Baron heaved. “Gather all the soldiers we have. Tell the other squad to be ready in their Wolf forms.”

A reluctant gaze finally settled on Steve's eyes. "There's another problem, Alpha.”

Baron looked at him, and his heart sank into the deepest pit ever, before he even spoke.

When he did, Baron lost it. “Bavanda is nowhere to be found." 

The room was heavy as the news hung in the air. Baron didn't waste any further time. “We set out. Now!" 

***

The night air was thick with tension.

Avynna and Baron stood at the edge of the clearing, surrounded by warriors, their eyes fixed on the monstrous form before them.

Was that their daughter?

Bavanda crouched low, her massive frame heaving with each breath. Her wolf—if it could still be called that—was unlike anything they had ever seen. Shadowy tendrils clung to her fur like living things, curling and twisting as if whispering secrets into the night. Her eyes glowed an unnatural, blood-red hue, filled with a hunger that sent a shiver through even the bravest warriors.

The pack hesitated. They didn’t know whether to attack or run.

Baron’s grip tightened around his sword. His heart twisted in agony, but his voice was firm. “That’s not my daughter.”

Avynna’s breath hitched. She turned to him, horrified. “Baron, don’t—”

His jaw clenched. “Look at her, Avynna. That’s not her anymore.”

Bavanda flinched at his words. She knew the fear in his voice. She had heard it before. In their voices and in their eyes.

Her claws dug into the earth. “Dad…” Her voice was different, like something else was speaking through her, and it seemed like only her could hear it. 

Baron’s face twisted with grief, but he didn’t lower his sword. “Restrain her.”

The warriors hesitated—but then stepped forward.

Bavanda’s heart shattered. The ones she had fought alongside, the ones who had once been family. Now they saw her as a threat.

A monster.

She snarled, baring her fangs, her body tense. She wouldn’t let them take her. She wouldn’t let them win.

“STOP!”

The voice rang through the clearing.

Steve.

He pushed through the warriors, his breath unsteady, his body trembling. His gaze locked onto Bavanda, the princess.

But she didn’t look like his princess.

His stomach twisted at the sight of her monstrous form, the inky darkness twisting around her.

He wanted to believe this wasn’t real, that this wasn’t her. That she wasn't the girl he had taken like his own daughter.

“Bavanda,” he whispered.

She turned to him.Her expression softened for just a moment, but then she saw the fear in his eyes, and her chest tightened.

Steve swallowed hard, daring to take a step forward. “Come back to us, Bavanda. Let us help you.”

Bavanda took a shaky step forward—but the warriors tensed. Swords were raised, and bows were drawn.

They weren’t here to help.

Steve’s heart pounded. “No! Don’t…”

But before he could move, they attacked.

Bavanda’s instincts took over. She fought back.

Claws slashed through the air.

Bavanda moved like a force of nature, dodging, striking, overpowering the warriors one by one. She was stronger than she had ever been, faster than she should have been.

She let the darkness guide her, let the whispers inside her head fuel her rage. However, when the familiar scent of Theresa wafted to her nose, she felt herself go weak.

She turned toward the shadows, but Theresa was already retreating. Her silver eyes met Bavanda’s one last time, filled with something unreadable.

She took a step back. Then another.

And just before she vanished, she whispered, and the wind brought the words to Bavanda. “You’ll understand soon.”

And then—just like that—she was gone.

Bavanda’s breath caught. The panic settled in, and almost immediately, pain exploded in her side.

She had been stabbed.

She roared, spinning around, knocking her attacker to the ground. More warriors lunged—too many. She was outnumbered.

Bavanda fought, but her vision blurred, her strength waning.

She had to get away, but could she?

Hey Guys please check my other stories: The Lycan and His healer mate, His Purchased Wife, 365 Days in Dmitry Cage, The fatal Lycan and his mysterious mate, Xiol's Treasured Mate, The luna and the lycan, Flash Marriage: President's Seduction, In Adonis world, Alpha's little Vampire Mate on R.a.d.i.s.h.

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Betrayed by My Ex, Claimed by His father on Goodnovel