Heir of The Werewolf Blood

“Grrr…!!!”

The guttural sound shattered the morning silence. Birds in the pine forest flew away in panic, their wings flapping wildly before disappearing behind the thin mist.

A young man staggered on the riverbank. His breathing was heavy. His chest rose and fell as if he'd just run a long distance. His hands gripped his own head.

“Where am I…?” he muttered faintly.

“Who exactly am I?”

The calm river water reflected his face. The face of a strong and handsome young man, with a defined jawline and eyes that were foreign to himself. His hair was dark, slightly disheveled. His skin was full of faint marks, remnants of a wild life.

He stared at the reflection for a long time. Too long.

“Why can't I remember anything…?” he whispered again.

“Rustle!”

His body tensed instantly.

From behind the pine bushes, two large wolves emerged slowly. Their bodies were sturdy. Dark gray fur. Their eyes glowed bluish, piercing through the morning mist.

The young man reflexively took a step back.

“Don't… come any closer,” he said, his voice trembling.

But the two wolves didn't attack. They approached slowly, their tails swaying low. One wolf sniffed the air, then came closer and touched its nose to the young man's hand.

The touch wasn't frightening.

In fact… it was familiar.

The young man fell silent. His chest tightened with a strange feeling. As if he knew them. As if they had been part of his life for a long time.

“Alpha…” he said softly, without knowing where the name came from.

“I'm sorry. I'm just confused. It feels like something is missing.”

The larger wolf stood before him. Its posture was upright. Its gaze was sharp yet calm. It was Alpha. The other, slightly leaner but always by Alpha's side, was Beta.

The young man knew. Without needing to be told.

This wolf pack was his family.

He knew how to hunt. He knew how to read the direction of the wind. He knew how to hear a prey's heartbeat from a distance. All of it was inside him, ingrained like deep instinct.

But something was wrong.

Those memories often surfaced like knives. Sharp. Painful. Suggesting another life had been taken from him. A life with loud noises. City lights. And a feeling of loss that left his chest empty.

The young man was named Harry.

At least, that's what was written on the small metal object always hanging around his neck.

The morning air pierced his lungs. The musk scent from the pack enveloped their den. Harry stretched slowly. His body lay among thick, warm fur. Beta's large body was by his side. Six other wolves circled, forming a living wall.

This was the safest place he had ever known.

Their scent was calming. Covering a wound he hadn't even understood yet.

Harry opened his eyes. Large yellowish-blue eyes. The same eyes as the rest of the pack.

The morning light filtered thinly through the gaps in the spruce leaves. Alpha stood at the den entrance. His body was large and solid. His gray fur shimmered in the light. His golden-yellow eyes stared at Harry without words, full of scrutiny.

Harry got up slowly. His muscles felt strong. Flexible. Full of energy. The urge came to him naturally. A sharp instinct, compelling him to move.

The hunting instinct.

“Morning, Alpha,” he muttered. His voice was heavy, hoarse, closer to a growl than human speech.

Alpha merely flicked his tail once. A simple gesture. But full of meaning.

Harry put on the coarse leather trousers he always wore. The only remnants of his human identity. Then he leaped out of the den, following the wolf pack.

They hunted a herd of deer.

The hunt happened quickly.

The pack moved like the wind. Silent. Coordinated. Harry was among them, blending in seamlessly. He knew when to run. When to wait.

They surrounded a young deer. Cutting off its escape route. Harry pounced first.

His claws gripped the back of the prey's neck.

One breath.

Everything ended. The young deer died.

But as they dragged the prey past bushes and old roots, Harry's eyes caught something strange.

A sharp glint.

Not from nature. Not from the pine forest.

“Stop,” he said quietly. His voice hissed.

The pack stopped instantly.

Between the moss and the roots of an old oak tree, a piece of car glass was wedged. Large. Curved. Sunlight reflected off it in an unfamiliar and disturbing way.

Harry knelt down. His fingers touched the cold surface.

Metal. The remains of a car wreck from long ago.

Suddenly, his head was filled with flashes.

Something falling from the sky. A loud explosion. Blinding white light. The impact of metal. Human screams. His own scream.

Harry recoiled backward. His breath hitched. His head throbbed severely.

Alpha approached. He sniffed the glass shard. Then looked at Harry, full of questions.

“I… I'm fine,” Harry said, lying. His hands trembled as he hid the shard.

“Just startled,” he added.

But everything changed since then.

Harry's thoughts kept returning to those flashes. Bent metal. Streetlights. The smell of smoke. And a sense of loss so profound that his chest felt empty.

As twilight fell, Harry sat alone by the river. Cold water washed over his feet. From beneath his skin, he pulled out a thin silver necklace with a small pendant shaped like an emblem he didn't understand.

The necklace was warm.

Pulsing softly.

He took out the piece of glass again. As the glass and the pendant almost touched, his heart pounded violently.

Night came.

The full moon hung high. Bathing the forest in silver light. The wolf fur shimmered. Usually, a night like this was full of freedom.

But tonight was different.

Harry stood in the open field. His muscles tensed. His bones shifted.

Alpha suddenly roared. A sharp warning.

The transformation came more roughly. The pain was searing. Harry opened his eyes.

He didn't see the forest.

All there was was the city.

London.

Red brick buildings. Narrow streets. Flickering yellow lights. Loud music. Human faces. He saw himself, neatly dressed, holding hands with a long black-haired woman.

The woman smiled.

And around her neck, hung the same pendant.

Harry tried to howl.

But only a human groan emerged. Full of longing. Full of pain.

The transformation failed.

His head spun. His feet stepped away. Leaving Alpha. Leaving Beta. Exiting the lush pine forest.

Heading east toward the city lights.

When Alpha growled, calling him, Harry stopped for a moment. He turned around. Tears fell without him realizing it.

“Father…” he whispered softly.

“I'm leaving, but I will definitely return.”

“If I return… will I still belong to you?”

Alpha simply stared at him.

And Harry walked away.

When the rain subsided, a strange voice was heard, a voice that felt close to his heart,

"Harry, come home…”

"That's not your home…”

Harry stopped in his tracks.

"Who is calling me?”