Married the Wrong Wolf King She Was the True Savior

The moonlight pierced the forest like silver needles.

Kaelan Shadowfang knelt in a clearing by the cliff's edge, his hands buried deep in the soil, his fingernails having already morphed into pitch-black claws. Each heartbeat was a hammer blow against his chest; what flowed through his veins was no longer blood, but molten lava. The full moon hung high, and the curse descended right on schedule.

"Argh—" He clenched his jaw, but a groan of agony still escaped.

Beneath his skin, his bones were reshaping. His spine arched like a bow, and thick, silver-grey fur sprouted from every pore. Rationality receded like a tide, replaced by the beast's instinct—to hunt, to tear, to destroy.

Not here.

His last shred of clarity had him struggling to his feet, staggering into the depths of the forest. He had to get farther from the territory, far enough that even if he completely lost control, he wouldn't harm a single member of his pack. This was the only vow he could keep as their Alpha, as the cursed one.

Under the same moonlight, Ava Moonwhisper was scaling the other side of the cliff.

Her fingers clutched at crevices in the rock, the tips of her boots searching for tiny footholds. Below was a hundred-meter abyss, the night wind howling, but she could not retreat. The image of her mother coughing up blood in bed was seared into her mind—only the "Moonshadow Herb" could alleviate that rare Bloodline Withering Sickness, and this herb grew only on the cliffs of the wolf pack's territory, on the night of the full moon.

"Almost there…" she gasped, finally spotting the cluster of silver-blue plants shimmering in the moonlight.

Just as her fingertips were about to touch it—

"ROAR—!!!"

A deafening roar erupted from below, shaking the entire cliff face. Ava twisted her head in terror, seeing a colossal shadow burst from the forest. Trees snapped and rocks flew where it passed.

A wolf.

No, not an ordinary wolf. It was as large as a horse, its silver-grey fur glinting with a metallic sheen under the moon. Its golden, bestial eyes burned with pain and madness. It clearly hadn't seen her, or rather, it could no longer see anything—it was ramming its head violently against the rock wall, as if trying to shatter something formless within its skull.

Ava held her breath, praying it wouldn't look up.

A loose piece of rock slipped from under her foot.

Clatter—

The sound was exceptionally clear in the silent, moonlit night.

The great wolf snapped its head up.

Their eyes met.

Time seemed to freeze. Ava saw the bloodshot veins in those golden eyes, the saliva dripping from its bared fangs, the tensed muscles in its pre-pounce stance.

It's over.

She closed her eyes, awaiting death.

But the expected tearing bite never came.

A few seconds later, Ava tremblingly opened her eyes. The great wolf was still standing there, staring at her, but the madness in its eyes seemed to be… struggling? Its nostrils flared dramatically, as if sniffing something.

Then, it let out a low sound, almost a whimper.

Ava suddenly realized—in her extreme fear, she had been unconsciously humming a tune. It was an ancient lullaby her mother used to sing her to sleep, a family heirloom said to be a Song of Serenity.

"Moon shadows sway, night breezes whisper…" Her voice was as faint as a mosquito's hum, broken and intermittent.

The great wolf took a step forward.

Ava's heart leaped into her throat.

But it didn't pounce. Instead, it slowly, hesitantly, lowered its body. Step by step, like a large, wounded dog, it dragged its heavy form to the base of the cliff where she was.

Then, it did something Ava would never forget—

It gently rested its enormous head upon the hem of her skirt that draped over the cliff's edge.

Moonlight spilled over it, and only then did Ava see clearly a gruesome old wound on its shoulder blade. It had festered, oozing a sinister black pus. The scar of a curse.

On a strange impulse, she reached out her hand.

The moment her fingertips touched the wolf's ear, its entire body trembled, but it did not attack. Ava slowly climbed down from the cliff, her legs nearly giving way as her feet touched the ground. The great wolf remained in that position, golden eyes half-closed, a purr-like sound rumbling in its throat.

"You're in a lot of pain, aren't you?" she whispered, taking herbs from her small pouch.

Her mother was a gifted healer, and she had learned a thing or two. Cleaning the wound, applying anti-inflammatory Silverleaf Herb powder, and bandaging it with a clean strip of cloth—throughout the entire process, the great wolf was exceptionally docile. Only when the powder stung the wound did it twitch slightly.

Once finished, Ava remembered her purpose. She looked up at the Moonshadow Herb on the cliff, then down at the great wolf resting its head on her lap, caught in a dilemma.

"I have to go," she said tentatively. "Can you… can you stay here? Don't hurt anyone."

The great wolf opened its eyes and looked at her, as if it understood.

Ava carefully got to her feet. As she turned to start climbing, the pocket watch in her coat pocket slipped out—it was the only memento her mother had left her. Its silver cover was engraved with their family crest: a wisteria entwined around a crescent moon.

The watch landed with a crisp clink.

She bent down to pick it up, but a giant wolf paw was faster.

No, it wasn't an attack. The claw just gently hooked the watch's chain and then drew it back under its body, as if it were a treasure to be guarded.

"Give it back…" Ava said, panicked. "That was my mother's—"

From the distance came the howl of wolves and the shouts of humans. The light of torches flickered at the edge of the forest.

Other werewolves were coming.

Fear seized her again. If the wolf pack discovered a human trespassing in their territory on a full moon night, she was as good as dead. Ava took one last look at the great wolf—it had closed its eyes, seemingly asleep, the pocket watch held tightly between its paws.

There was no time.

Gritting her teeth, she turned, grabbed the rock face, and, with the freshly picked Moonshadow Herb, disappeared over the top of the cliff.

As the morning light pierced the darkness, Kaelan regained consciousness in searing pain.

He lay naked on the cold rock, his body aching as if it had been crushed. But stronger than the physical pain were the fragments of memory in his mind—moonlight, a song, a scent as cool and clean as a meadow after rain, and a pair of gentle hands tending to his wound.

"Someone…" He pushed himself up, finding something clutched tightly in his hand.

A silver pocket watch. The cover glinted coldly in the morning light. Inscribed on the inside were a few small words: "To my dearest daughter, Ava. May the moonlight always guide you."

Ava.

He tightened his grip on the watch and scanned his surroundings. And then he saw it—

Not far away, a werewolf girl lay unconscious. There were fresh claw marks on her arm, her breathing was shallow, and her long black hair was splayed across her pale face. Her pheromones were a potent mix of roses and blood, making Kaelan instinctively frown.

Wrong.

The scent in his memory wasn't like this. The scent in his memory was…

He tried hard to recall, but could only grasp a sliver of hazy moonlight.

"Lord Kaelan!" Shouts approached as an Elder arrived with the guard. "Thank the Moon Goddess! Lady Selina found you! She tracked you deep into the forest alone to save you…"

The Elder helped the unconscious girl up. Only then did Kaelan recognize her as Selina Darkclaw, the daughter of a minor noble family.

"She saved me?" Kaelan asked, his voice hoarse.

"Yes! You were fully feral last night. It was Lady Selina who risked her life to soothe you! Look, she found this near you. It must have been left by an assailant…" The Elder pointed to the pocket watch.

Kaelan looked down at the silver watch in his hand, then at the unconscious Selina.

His intuition screamed: Wrong. Everything is wrong.

But the evidence was before him: the wounds, the pocket watch, the witness.

"Take her back for treatment," he finally said, a weariness in his voice he didn't even recognize himself. "Take good care of her."

"And this watch…"

Kaelan clenched it, the metal edge digging into his palm.

"I'm keeping it."

He needed to find answers. To find that cool, moonlit scent, to find the song that had granted him peace in his madness.

To find the person named Ava.

The morning mist filled the forest. Kaelan had no idea that the person he was looking for was, at that very moment, hiding in a small cabin at the foot of the mountain, weeping softly over her gravely ill mother, heartbroken over her lost family heirloom, and vowing never to set foot in the wolf pack's territory again.

And the gears of fate had begun to turn in the wrong direction.

On the cliffside rock, only a small, undried patch of blood and a few strands of silver-grey wolf fur remained, trembling gently in the morning breeze.

The moonlight had faded.

But the song sung under the moon would one day, on some future night, be heard again.