Facing the menacing wolf, I resigned myself to the harsh truth: I stood no chance against such a powerful foe. There I was, lying on the ground, slowly moving backwards, staring at the approaching danger. My quiver remained empty; its arrows scattered around the green pasture, during the chaos that ensued when the wolves attacked our horses. Nearby, Arland fought with the ferocity of a seasoned warrior, his dual short swords slicing through the air, keeping the wolves at bay with precise movements. Yet, despite his efforts, I was consumed by a feeling of despair, a depth of hopelessness I had never experience before.

In an unexpected turn, the wolves abruptly ceased their attack, leaving me confused. I slowly glance back, finding Lysander behind me, standing imposingly tall. His eyes glowed a vibrant red, and his elongated fangs instilled fear in the surrounding wolves. Before our eyes, his hands began to transform, accompanied by the unsettling sound of bones cracking and realigning. Lysander's skin rapidly became enveloped in a coat of white fur, shedding his human appearance to reveal the white wolf I had witnessed the previous night. He positioned himself protectively in front of me, letting out a ferocious howl that echoed through the air.

"Lysander!" It didn't matter how much I yelled; he never took his eyes off the enemy.

Arland, witnessing the terrifying transformation of his son, stood frozen, overwhelmed by the surreal scene unfolding in front of him.

The massive grey wolf, sensing a new presence, issued another howl, this time a clear challenge directed at Lysander, enticing him into confrontation.

Arland moved out of the way, his eyes fixed on the scene as Lysander launched himself at the Alpha wolf. The two engaged in a fierce, life-or-death struggle, with Lysander at a noticeable disadvantage due to the size difference.

Meanwhile, sensing the pause in aggression, our horses cautiously returned to the scene. The remaining wolves stood motionless, their attention riveted on the outcome of the battle between their Alpha and Lysander.

"Arland! Your horse!"

Arland sprang into action, quickly retrieving his bow and quiver from his horse. He loaded an arrow and aimed at the massive wolf, which was gaining the upper hand in its fight against Lysander. His fingers tensed on the bowstring, holding the arrow steady, waiting for the opportune moment to strike the rabid wolf.

Weakened from the ferocious onslaught of the Alpha wolf, Lysander began reverting to his human form, Arland spotted his chance, and with no hesitation, he let loose his arrow, striking the rabid wolf directly in one of its eyes. The shot was lethal, ending the Alpha's life instantly.

"Lysander!" Arland dropped his bow and rushed to Lysander, who had just completed his transformation back into human form. Lysander opened his eyes and, upon seeing his father, a smile flickered across his face.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

"Papa." Lysander said.

But soon after, exhaustion and injury took their toll, and Lysander lost consciousness. Arland, himself bearing several wounds, managed to mount his horse, carefully securing Lysander in front of him.

"Help me with the reins while hold Lysander with my hands."

Nodding in agreement, I helped Arland wrap the reins around his arms.

"I trust you will take the wolf's corpse and bring it into town?"

"Count on it."

As Arland rode off towards Bortoli, I became concerned about Lysander's condition. Turning my attention to the task at hand, I took a rope and tied it around the legs of the wolf.

With the Alpha wolf in tow, I proceeded slowly towards the town square. My arrival didn't go unnoticed. People emerged from their homes; their curiosity flared up at the sight of the dead wolf. They watched, some with apprehension, others with relief, as I hoisted the massive wolf onto a post in the center of the square.

Fred approached, his eyes taking in the state of my tattered clothes and the bloodstains on my shoulders.

"You should get out of those clothes and let my wife mend them."

He stood next to me, perplexed at the size of the wolf. "We owe you our gratitude, Randall. You've brought us justice."

As the townspeople encircled the lifeless body of the beast, their applause and cheers echoed in the square, reflecting their relief and gratitude at the sight of the fallen predator.

People came forward, giving praise and expressing their thanks for our brave deed. Amidst the celebration, my mind was elsewhere, unable to fully engage in the moment. The revelation of Lysander's true nature had deeply unsettled me. Now, my thoughts were consumed with questions about how to address the complex situation surrounding Lysander.

I returned home, exhausted and worried. As I opened the door, a surprising scene greeted me: Lysander was there, playing contentedly with a wooden horse we had given him a month earlier. Remarkably, his injuries had healed entirely, leaving no trace of the previous ordeal.

Arland welcomes me inside the house, as many people gather outside in front of the door to express their gratitude.

"I've done as you requested. The wolf now hangs in the center of the square."

"Thank you. That will bring relief to the people who suffered losses because of those wolves."

Kneeling down to Lysander's level, I sought to capture his attention. Gently, I placed my hand over his, offering him a smile filled with gratitude. "Thank you, little brother, for saving our lives."

Lysander responded with a brief smile, before promptly returning his focus to the wooden horse he was playing with.

Feeling a tap on my shoulder, I looked up to see Arland gesturing for me to follow him. We moved to his room, where he sat down at his desk. His expression was etched with concern.

"I need your help, Randall. I'm at a loss here. Lysander isn't just a human boy; he's a werewolf."

Intrigued by his comment, I grabbed a chair and sat across from him. I prepared myself for the impending revelation, and Arland's reaction to the information I was ready to convey.

"Arland, I have seen him turning into the white before."

Arland widened his eyes in astonishment. "And you didn't warn me?"

This was the reaction I expected him to have, the moment he found out I already knew Lysander was indeed a werewolf.

"I didn't want to make claims about something that might have just been a figment of my imagination."

Arland sighed deeply. "What are the chances he will be a threat to my wife? To you? What about the town?"

I could see the conflict within him. Despite understanding the risks, Arland's commitment to not causing Ingrid any more pain was clear.

"I will keep him closer to me. If his behavior changes, you will be the first to know."

In that moment, I accepted the responsibility of guiding Lysander, not only for his own good but also to alleviate Arland's worries.