**The Day He Forgot He Hated Me by Evangeline Marrow**
The days that followed Lupa’s revelation about the bloodline were undeniably peculiar. Life at the packhouse attempted to regain its usual rhythm—young wolves frolicked in the fields, the elders busied themselves with repairs on the weathered walls, and Asher and I continued our training sessions as if nothing had changed. Yet, beneath this facade of normalcy, an unspoken tension lingered in the air, palpable to everyone, though none dared to voice it.
Even Arlo, with his keen instincts, sensed the shift. He could often be found immersed in the library, poring over ancient Eclipse Pack records and studying the intricate energy lines that wove through the land. I would catch snippets of his mutterings about “unfinished business” and “traces of power that shouldn’t exist.” At times, he would scratch at his wrist, a familiar habit from before, and cast anxious glances toward the training field, as if anticipating an unseen force to strike him down.
I, too, was unable to shake the unsettling feeling that had settled over me. Lupa’s arrival felt like the creaking open of a door that had long been sealed shut. My father’s power, the energy coursing through my veins, the ancient bloodline—it was all still there, lurking just beneath the surface. I could sense it, faintly, like a whisper rippling through the edges of the forest, a quiet hum that resonated with the very air around me.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden and crimson hue across the sky, Asher and I were wrapping up our training session. We moved through a series of precise, controlled sequences, my chest feeling light for the first time in days, my movements fluid and unencumbered.
But then, an inexplicable sensation halted me mid-step. A chill skittered down my spine, and the air around us felt… wrong.
Asher’s sharp gaze found mine immediately. “What is it?” he inquired, stepping closer, concern etched across his features.
“I can’t quite place it,” I admitted, my voice taut with unease. “It feels like… something’s watching us.”
We froze, standing in the center of the field, the world around us suddenly eerily quiet. Even the birds had vanished from the trees, leaving an oppressive silence that felt like the forest was holding its breath.
A soft whisper drifted into my ears, reminiscent of the wind rustling through leaves. But it wasn’t just the wind; it carried intent—a palpable malice.
“Trinity…” The voice was low, almost hauntingly distant, yet I recognized it. It resonated with the weight of the Eclipse legacy—cold, controlled, and dangerously compelling.
Asher stiffened beside me. “What did you hear?” he pressed, his voice low and urgent.
“Someone’s here,” I replied, my heart racing. “Or perhaps something.” The bond I shared with Asher flared gently, a warning that echoed through our connection.
We moved swiftly toward the packhouse, the shadows around us feeling different—no longer the screaming black shapes or writhing forms of nightmares past. This presence was subtle, intelligent, and unnervingly silent. It wasn’t here to attack just yet; it was here to observe.
When we reached the main hall, Dennis was waiting outside, his expression grave. “I felt it too,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Something is approaching, something tied to the bloodline.”
“Do you think it could be Lupa’s family?” Asher asked, a hint of apprehension creeping into his tone.
Dennis shook his head slowly. “Not quite. The Eclipse Pack is gone, but remnants remain. Families have scattered, and power has been stolen. If word gets out that Trinity is here, that the bloodline—the true heir—has returned… it will attract attention. Those who survived and feel wronged may come after her.”
My heart sank as I swallowed hard, trying to suppress the rising tide of panic. “So, they’ll come for me?”
Dennis nodded gravely. “It’s not a matter of if, but when.”
Arlo then appeared, notebook clutched tightly in his hands, his eyes wide with urgency. “I’ve been tracing the energy lines,” he said, his voice strained. “There’s a ripple just at the forest’s edge, as if someone is scanning for something… or someone.”
“Do you think they know about me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Arlo hesitated before nodding. “Yes. They are aware that the bloodline still exists. And you, Trinity, are the last true heir. That makes you… incredibly important. And potentially dangerous.”
Asher’s grip on my hand tightened protectively. “Then we prepare. No one is going to touch you. No one.”
That night, sleep eluded me. Even in my room, with the windows shut and the fire crackling softly, I felt the weight of that presence lingering close by, patient and poised, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.
The following morning, training resumed, yet every movement felt laden with caution. Lupa stood silently at the edge of the field, her hands clasped tightly before her, observing without participating, offering no guidance, no words—only her watchful gaze.
During a break, I approached her, curiosity piquing my interest. “You don’t join in. Are you afraid?”
She shook her head, her expression serious. “I’m not afraid of you. I fear the bloodline itself.”
A frown creased my brow. “Why is that?”



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