The legend
“There’s a good reason why wolves are in so many stories, and why people are afraid of us,” Clair started, her voice a low rasp that commanded the room. She settled back into her favorite floral armchair, the fabric worn soft by years of use, as her grandchildren gathered like eager pups around her feet. “While many stories are false, ours will make you question what’s real. It takes just one tragic event to shatter everything humans think they know about us. It’s rumored that the story of the Big Bad Wolf started right here—with Alpha Damian Shaw of the Blackhaw Pack.”
“You mean like the one in Little Red Riding Hood?” Lena asked, her small hands gripped tight around her knees, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of fear and excitement.
Clair smiled warmly, the light from the fireplace dancing in her eyes. “The very one, sweet Lena.”
“What does he look like, Nana?” Toby asked, his eyes wide with curiosity.
“Well, dear child,” Clair leaned in closer, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “I’ve never seen him myself, nor has anyone from our pack. But those who have survived an encounter with him say he’s the biggest wolf of our kind—as massive as a bear, towering over normal wolves like they’re mere ants. His fur is so black that in the darkness of a new moon, no one would be able to see him until it was too late. And his eyes...” she paused for dramatic effect, letting the silence stretch until the children leaned in, “...are the color of obsidian. They say you can see the souls of those he’s claimed reflected in the depths of them.”
The young grandchildren’s eyes widened, breaths held as they listened intently to Nana’s story. As Clair continued, her voice grew more serious, the playfulness fading. “Alpha Damian is the only known black wolf, and that’s because of the power he holds. The color black represents independence, strong will, and determination. He radiates prestige and power like no other; that is why he’s been the most feared Alpha for the past two hundred years. He’s an Original.”
“Is he real?” one of the younger children asked, her voice barely more than a whisper as she scrambled up to jump into her Nana’s lap for safety.
Clair smiled knowingly, patting the girl gently on the head. “Who’s to say? Some believe it’s just a story told to scare young pups like yourselves, or to keep you from wandering too far into his pack territory.”
“So cool!” Lena exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with genuine awe.
“Of course you’d find this cool, Lena,” Kaylie, her ten-year-old cousin, muttered as she rolled her eyes. “How can you admire a monster like him? He’s heartless and gives our kind a bad name.”
“He’s so powerful and mysterious! Imagine all the things he’s seen and done,” Lena defended, her excitement completely unaffected by her cousin’s biting words.
Kaylie shook her head in disbelief. “You’re dumb, Lena. Just because someone has power doesn’t mean they’re worthy of being admired. Remember what Grandma always says: ’It’s not the power you have, but how you use it that defines you.”
Despite being only seven, Lena understood more than her cousin gave her credit for. She had grown up on Nana’s stories since she was three, and she loved a good scary story more than anything else in the world.
“Whatever,” she muttered, rolling her eyes back at her goody-two-shoes cousin.
“Alright, kids, that’s enough story time for today,” Elliott called from the doorway, his sudden appearance earning a chorus of collective groans from the children. “Time to head back to your parents.”
Lena and her older brother, Jay, lived just behind the woods bordering their grandparents’ estate, so they often made the journey home alone through the familiar trees. The other cousins stayed behind, waiting for their parents to pick them up.
“Race you!” Jay shouted the moment they stepped off the porch, his legs already pumping as he took off through the trees.
“No fair! You didn’t count!” Lena whined, but she hiked up her skirts and chased after him anyway. Her brother, being a couple of years older, was surprisingly fast for his age. Soon his dark hair disappeared from her view, leaving Lena alone among the ancient, towering trees.
She pushed herself to run faster, determined to catch up to him. The sound of Jay's distant laughter echoed through the forest, provoking her to push her small lungs to their limit. Lena dodged low-hanging branches and leaped over fallen logs, her heart pounding against her ribs with pure excitement. However, as she lost sight of her brother's silhouette, she also missed the gnarled, overgrown root hidden beneath a layer of leaves.
Despite growing up in these woods, she should have known better than to ignore the protruding tree roots. Her foot caught, and she tumbled forward with a cry, landing hard on her hands and knees.
Lena was tough, but the fresh scrapes burned fiercely against the cool air. A few tears escaped as she examined her wounds, but it wasn't the pain that made her cry; it was the jagged tear in her red hooded cape. It was a gift from Nana—a symbol of their shared love for the Little Red Riding Hood story.
Knowing her wounds would eventually heal, she sighed and looked up, hoping to see Jay coming back for her. Naturally, he hadn’t. The sound of a nearby branch breaking suddenly made her halt her rising motion. Turning her head slowly, her breath hitching, she focused on the origin of the sound.
Suddenly, she found herself encountering a wolf. But it wasn't just any ordinary wolf.
----------------------------------‐---------------------------------------------------------
Damian had been running to clear his head of pack troubles when an unusual scent caught his attention. Something about it was different, compelling his wolf to investigate despite his natural reluctance to be near the pack borders. The closer he got, the stronger the pull became—an intoxicating blend of earthy florals and sweet, golden honey.
He stopped suddenly, discovering the cause in a small clearing. A young girl in a red hooded cape sat there, examining her wounded knee. He tilted his large head, bewildered by the wild, protective reaction his wolf had to the girl’s scent. Suddenly, he was struck by a realization that caused him to shake his massive head in disbelief.
Impossible, especially after all these years. She’s just a child—how could this be? He knew the laws of their kind; wolves stopped aging at twenty-one until they found their mate, and then they aged together slowly. But this? This was unprecedented. Why is this happening now? Why, after two centuries, did the Moon Goddess choose to burden me with this curse? Damian had always been firmly against having a mate, but his wolf couldn't help the primal urge to protect the innocent girl.
Seeking a better view, he inched toward her, his paws silent on the moss, but he winced as a dry branch cracked beneath his heavy weight. The girl’s head snapped up; their eyes met instantly. To his surprise, she showed no fear—only a wide-eyed curiosity that took him aback. His focus shifted when he caught the metallic scent of blood trickling down her leg. In that instant, his inner wolf took full control, compelled by an instinct to safeguard and mend her wound.
Lena sat mesmerized as the massive black wolf approached her cautiously, his instincts kicking in as he assessed the situation. She remained perfectly still, watching him with a mixture of lingering anxiety and pure wonder. Slowly, the beast lowered himself to the ground in front of her, his gaze never leaving hers.
Up close, she could see that his eyes weren’t the obsidian black from Nana's legend; instead, they were a mesmerizing light grey with darker, smoky rings. The wolf studied her, his gaze intense and intelligent, before he leaned forward and gently nudged her hand with his wet nose.
Lena watched in amazement as the wolf tended to her injury with such care and gentleness, his rough tongue cleaning the scrapes. She could feel a sense of trust building between them—a connection that went beyond words. It was something she had never felt before, and even though it was a good feeling, she was utterly confused by the warmth spreading through her chest.
As he finished, the wolf looked up at her with eyes that seemed to convey a silent gratitude. In that moment, she knew she had found a friend. As they sat together in the quiet of the forest, Lena whispered, “It’s you.”
She paused for a heartbeat, her voice trembling. “You’re the wolf from Nana’s stories. The Big Bad Wolf.”
Her words fell out in a slow, breathless awe as her heart raced. She gazed at the towering figure before her. He was most definitely the wolf of legend; there was no doubt in her mind.
Damian tilted his head in confusion, his ears twitching. Before she could explain further, a noise interrupted the peace of the clearing—a distant, heavy footstep. Damian's body tensed immediately, every muscle coiling as he prepared to react at a moment’s notice. Then, in the blink of an eye, he vanished into the shadows, leaving Lena alone with nothing but the lingering scent of untamed power and a sudden, sharp sense of absence.
As she sat alone amidst the rustling leaves and chirping birds, Lena couldn’t help but feel that this was just the start of something much bigger. She wanted to tell her family, but she knew they would never believe her. Even she struggled with the mystery of the kind wolf contradicting the terrifying monster from the stories. His unexpected kindness intrigued her, pulling her in like a magnetic force. She knew she would have to keep this meeting a secret, but that only made it more special. She had a strong belief that she would reunite with the legendary wolf soon enough. And when that day came, she would be prepared for whatever thrilling escapades awaited them.
----------------------------------‐---------------------------------------------------------
Later that evening, Damian sat at his heavy oak desk, his mind completely consumed by the image of the girl in the red hooded cape. He couldn't focus on the pack reports and territorial papers spread out in front of him. The way she had called him the "Big Bad Wolf" from her Nana’s stories kept replaying in his mind like a record stuck on a single, haunting track. He couldn’t shake her out of his thoughts; her words and her bravery haunted him.
Why wasn’t she afraid of me? It puzzled him. This girl had shown no fear of the notorious and reclusive Damian Shaw. She should have been trembling, running in the opposite direction, yet she had looked at him with nothing but wonder.
His curiosity was piqued; his interest was sparked in a way he hadn't felt in centuries. He had never felt this pull toward anyone before—this unexplainable, soul-deep urge to protect and watch over someone. It was a foreign feeling, one he wanted to resent, but he couldn't deny its strength.
Despite his long-standing vow to stay alone and hidden from the world, he silently promised the moon that he would keep an eye on her from the shadows. He would make sure she was safe, even if she never knew of his presence. He couldn’t let anything happen to her—not after she had shown him a side of the world he had long forgotten.
