At first, I didn’t understand what I was meant to do. I wondered why I was alive. Why did I have to live after what happened? So many died... So why was I still here? Before my fateful encounter with him. My life was simple. Why did he have to teach me how to feel?

Why did he have to open my eyes to a world I didn’t want to see? Why did he have to do all that? It would have been much better if I’d never met him... But... if I never met him... I wouldn’t have ever learned how life was meant to be lived. Thanks to him... I got to see beauty in this forsaken world.

Fourteen years earlier. A month before the fall...

Staking out the store they frequented, it didn't take long for the boy who had caught my attention to come into view again. I had first noticed him weeks earlier while running an errand for the coven.

What caught my eye?

A young Lycan boy with a beaming smile strolled into a bustling game shop with his companions. Each of them belonged to his kin and hailed from the same clan.

How can you smile like that? That was the first thought that ran through my mind.

The enigmatic boy who captivated my attention wore striking silver hair that shone like moonlight. His fair skin perfectly complemented his captivating amber eyes—a distinctive feature shared by all Lycans.

This unique combination of features served as a telltale sign to identify them, especially when they concealed their wolf-like ears and tails with clothing.

Their attempts to conceal their identity by wearing colored contacts made it challenging to spot them. Unfortunately, if they lacked training, their quick temper, and pride often gave them away. In their wolf form, their hair color perfectly matched the hue of their fur.

Their humanoid form was unique, with wolf-like ears adorning their heads instead of the typical human ones. Their clothing often featured a specially designed gap to accommodate their long, fluffy tails. It appeared uncomfortable for them to keep their tails confined within their clothing for extended periods.

Their features beckoned to me, tempting me to reach out and touch them. Yet nothing captivated me more than the boy's radiant smile. The feeling of freedom was so intoxicating that I yearned to grasp it.

Whenever I managed to slip away from the sisters or was running an errand for them, I sought the boys out. Concealing myself from view, I observed the wolves frolicking around the town. It was a buzzing city full of many establishments of different calibers.

The floors were made from colorful bricks. Each color led to a different section of Silverant, our beautiful home. The scent of perfumes and foods filled the humming streets, also filled with people wandering around.

Frequently, the boys would purchase playing cards and test them at the outdoor tables adjacent to the store they frequented. Alternatively, they would bring their electronic devices and gaming until dusk.

On other occasions, they would make purchases and proceed to the beach to play ball or do anything that looked fun for the day. Hiding in the dark recesses of the lonely alley, I observed their infectious laughter.

The fated day started like any other; I observed them from afar and was satisfied with that alone. The atmosphere shifted when one of the wolf boys, with a mane of brown hair, seized the silver-haired boy by the arm. Although rough play was their norm, he leaned in and whispered something to the silver-haired boy before they stepped into the shop this time.

The situation didn't seem significant at first, but as time passed and they still hadn't appeared, a sense of unease began to creep in. Suddenly, I felt a firm grip on my shoulder, sending a shock through my entire body. A startled yelp escaped my lips as I quickly turned to see who had grabbed me.

When they spoke, my heart plummeted.

“Hey, what are you doing?” The sound of a young boy's voice filled my eardrums, clear and bright.

My hands shook uncontrollably, turning to face him. I immediately recognized him as the wolf boy I had been secretly observing for weeks. His expression was alarmingly as if he had caught me peering at him.

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A wave of panic swept over me, glancing around, but there was no one else in sight.

He let out a heavy sigh before speaking again. “Don’t want to talk now? You’ve been watching us. Who are you?”

It left me speechless.

They knew?! How long?!

If they knew the truth, I would be...

Suddenly, swallowing was more complicated to do.

If the sisters found out, I’ll...

Especially today when I wasn’t supposed to be out, let alone be noticed by someone. I needed to escape before he reported or took me back to the sisters. However, the boy's gaze left me reeling blank.

“I’m nobody!” I bolted away.

The young boy effortlessly closed the distance between us, his strong grip seizing my arm and yanking me towards him, sending us both sprawling to the ground. I had no idea what I was doing in that panicked moment of flight. Lycans, with their incredible speed, outpaced all races.

Their power was only rivaled by that of vampires. As a mere human, I stood no chance against him. Despite his young age, he possessed the ability to break my arm with ease. Yet, his grip remained surprisingly gentle, even as we tumbled together.

We stumbled onto a pile of empty crates that a merchant had left in the earlier hours of the day. Securely, I fell onto his chest as he took the brunt of the fall.

“Ouch!” The boy complained while still holding me closer.

My heart sank when I saw blood trickling down his forehead. The crimson stream originated from a deep gash caused by one of the sharp edges of the crates. I began apologizing profusely in a panicked attempt to distance myself from the situation.

However, my efforts were thwarted when he held me firmly, making any escape impossible. Once more, I stumbled and found myself in his embrace. However, his hold on me this time was more vital than ever. It was suffocating, like a delicate butterfly trapped in a sturdy net.

I struggled to break free from his firm yet tender grasp.

“Fenris!” his brown-haired friend called from behind us.

His friends caught up with us after hearing the loud noise we had made. Fenris grabbed my other arm despite their presence, firmly preventing me from attempting to escape again.

“I gotcha, you aren’t going anywhere.” Fenris smiled brightly.

It amazed me that he could still smile like that despite being injured.

How’s that even possible? Aren’t you angry with me?

The enigmatic smile that held me spellbound eluded my grasp of its significance.

“Are you okay?” His companion with golden locks inquired, bending down to get a better view.

I found myself in a vulnerable position, surrounded by four wolf boys, one of whom had taken me captive. It was clear that none of them intended to let me go.

“I’m fine. It was my fault anyway. Tripped over my shoelace.” Fenris answered without setting me free.

He accepted the blame for the incident, fully aware that I would seize any opportunity to escape. However, his reasons for shouldering the responsibility for my error remained a puzzle.

The boy with grey hair caught a whiff of a familiar scent, causing his ears to twitch and his eyes to narrow in recognition.

“It smells like magic. She’s a mage?!” The young boy announced confidently, his nostrils flaring.

The brown-haired boy's face contorted in disappointment as he couldn't help but slap his face upon hearing his words.

“No, dumb ass, she’s human. Mages can only be elves.” He corrected the grey-haired wolf, causing him to gasp.

“A witch?! Is she trying to curse us?! Should we take her to Cerberus?!” He added, intensifying the entire event.

The mention of the organization's name sent shivers down my spine. The fundamental distinction between mages and witches/warlocks lay in the origin of our magical abilities. Elven mages derived their power from the elemental forces of nature.

The witches acquired it through sacrificial magic, also called death magic. This type of magic was even more sinister than dark magic, which was already considered taboo despite being used by a particular sub-species of elves.

The practice of witchcraft was universally feared and seen as highly dangerous by all races. My people bore the blame for causing devastating plagues and widespread disorder throughout our history, leading to our stigmatization.

To make matters worse, there was even an instance when we attempted to bring about the world's end. During those times, Cerberus was an organization founded by Lycans that stopped them. A robust peacekeeping force wore the three-headed dog as an emblem, the gatekeeper to the underworld.

“Shut up, Ezra. If it’s a curse, she’s trying to cast. She clearly failed. No spell takes days to cast. Plus, she looks younger than us. Doubt she can even cast yet.” Fenris snapped at the grey wolf, who quickly stopped in his tracks.

I quivered with fear, frozen by the name that had left the young wolf’s lips.

Are they going to report to me? The sisters...

In this society, witches were marginalized and oppressed, occupying the lowest tier of the social hierarchy. They were scorned and looked down upon by others, while Lycans held the highest status and acted as protectors of all races. Their inherent resistance to most magical spells elevated them to the apex of the races, instilling them with an aura of power and authority.

Their sole contenders in power were vampires, yet they were vulnerable to sunlight. It wouldn't cause them to burn, but it would significantly drain their energy. Consequently, most used umbrellas when venturing out during the daylight hours.

Some individuals consciously decided to avoid it, leading them to become night owls.

Before I could devise a solution to escape the difficult situation, Fenris asked the question again. “Why were you watching us?”

The unsettling question left me shaken. I frantically searched for an escape route but to no avail. I found myself ensnared in a wolf den.