Chapter11
Frank’s infatuation with Stephnie had morphed into a primal frenzy,that sent shockwaves through the werewolf community.
When she mentioned craving the Moonfire baked pastries from the Enchanted Glen, he sprinted through the night – haunted Everglade Forest. He dodged packs of shadow – slinking wraith – wolves, their eyes glowing like embers in the darkness, and faced down the venomous Spineback Serpents that guarded the glade’s entrance.
His fur was singed by their acidic breath, but he emerged victorious, clutching the still- warm pastries in his jaws.
When Stephnie expressed a passing fancy
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for the elusive Starlight Moths that flitted only in the Realm of Dreams, he summoned the most powerful shaman – witches in the land.
For weeks, the shaman – witches chanted and sacrificed. Finally, they managed to capture a swarm of the moths, each one glowing with an otherworldly light.
She was delighted, but Frank’s thirst to please her only grew.
One fateful day, Stephnie set her sights on the untouched slopes of the Frostfang Mountains, a territory sacred to the ancient Ice Howlers. The local pack sent out warnings, their howls carrying on the wind, a clear message that outsiders were not welcome.
But Stephnie’s whim was Frank’s command.
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He ignored the warnings, as he led the way up the mountain.
As they skied down the treacherous slopes, Stephnie’s laughter echoed like a siren’s call.
Suddenly, the ground trembled beneath them, a low rumble that grew into a deafening roar.
The mountain itself seemed to shake, snow and ice breaking loose from the peaks above.
An avalanche was hurtling towards them, a massive wall of white – death that swallowed the sky.
In a split second, Frank shifted into his
wolf form, his massive body towering over Stephnie.
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Her weight pressed down on his injuries, sending a jolt of pain through his body, but he didn’t care.
All that mattered was that she was safe.
“I’m here,” he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll always be here for you.”
Stephnie pulled back, her eyes filled with tears.
Tears welled up in Stephnie’s eyes.
Frank smiled, but a strange feeling of unease settled in the pit of his stomach.
There was a hollowness to them, a sense that something was missing. “Frankie,” Stephnie said, her voice soft.
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To a night when he was still Stella’s butler.
They had been ambushed.
Frank had stepped in front of her.
The battle was brutal, the rival claws and teeth tearing at his flesh.
But Frank refused to back down.
He fought with a ferocity born of his loyalty to Stella. In the heat of the battle, a poisoned dagger was thrown at Stella.
Without thinking, Frank had lunged forward, taking the dagger in the shoulder.
The poison seeped into his veins, burning like fire, but he had managed to drive the rival pack away.
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“Are you crazy?”
Stella had shouted, her eyes wide with fear
and anger.
“Why would you do that?”
Despite the pain, Frank had smiled.
“Because you’re worth it, he had said.
Stella had scoffed, but he had seen the tears in her eyes as she carefully removed the dagger and cleaned his wound.
She had stayed by his side day and night, using her own healing powers to fight off the poison.
She had even gone against her father’s wishes, defying the pack’s traditions to
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Tudor greeted him.
“Heard you almost got yourself killed for Stephnie. Again.”
“I need you to arrange something,” Frank said.
“A grand ceremony. Something that will make her mine forever.” Tudor let out a low whistle.
“Planning to propose, are we? Alright, lay it on me. What do you have in mind?”
“I want a ceremony in the Hall of the Ancients,” Frank began, his voice firm. “Have the pack’s best artisans carve intricate runes into the walls, runes that tell the story of our love. Hire the most powerful shaman – druids to perform a sacred ritual, a ritual that will bind our souls together. And commission a
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master jeweler to create a collar from the fangs of the Great Wolf.”
Tudor was silent for a moment.
“That’s going to be a massive undertaking, alpha. And it won’t come cheap. But if anyone can pull it off, it’s you. Just one question, though. Why Stephnie??”
Frank was silent, his mind filled with images of Stephnie.
Her smile, her laughter, the way she had looked at him when he saved her. But
beneath those memories, he saw something else.
“She’s… she’s everything,” Frank said, but even he could hear the doubt in his voice.
“She’s the one I’ve been waiting for.”
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The screech of brakes filled the air as the vehicle swerved past them. For a heartbeat, she stood there, the cat nestled safely in her arms, a vision of serenity amidst the chaos.
“Who is she?”
She turned, a smile lighting up her face like a beacon.
“Stephnie,” a by–passer told him.
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