Cool air brushed Tyra's face. She stepped onto the wide veranda, the scent of pine and damp earth filling her lungs. Stars glittered like scattered diamonds above the dense tree line. The mansion, silent behind her, felt too quiet tonight. She needed space, a moment away from the ancestral echoes. Her house, a charming cottage nestled closer to the whispering woods, often served as her retreat. Tonight, however, she’d opted for a short stroll through the moonlit grounds of Gunnar's parents’ estate. Movement caught her eye. A flicker of gray, low to the ground, behind a gnarled oak. Curiosity tugged her forward. It looked like a discarded fluff of lint, then something more substantial. Walking closer, her steps soft on the dew-kissed grass, she peered behind the ancient tree. A small, gray ball of fur lay curled, barely visible in the shadows. Her heart squeezed. Gasps escaped her lips. Not a ball, but a creature. A puppy, she thought, barely bigger than her hand. Its fur was soft, a pale smoky gray, and it seemed fast asleep. Carefully, she knelt. "Hey, buddy," she whispered, her voice a gentle caress. The tiny form didn't stir. It looked so vulnerable, so utterly alone. She reached out a hesitant hand, her fingers brushing the incredibly soft fur. The little creature shifted, a small whimper escaping it. Its tail, no bigger than a finger, gave a lazy, sleepy wag. Scooping it up, Tyra cradled the small animal against her chest. It weighed next to nothing. Its warmth spread through her blouse. How could such a tiny thing be out here by itself? "How did you end up here?" she murmured, gazing at its peacefully closed eyes. She didn't recognize the breed. A stray? Too young to be far from its mother. Svea, half-asleep, felt the gentle hands, the soft voice. A human. Not a threat. Her body, still aching from the long flight, relaxed further into the unfamiliar warmth. It had been days since she felt safe. Tyra smiled, a warmth spreading through her own chest. "Aww... so cute." She stroked its head with her thumb. "You know what... I'm going to take care of you." She carried the tiny pup back to her cottage, the short walk feeling endless. Inside, the warmth of her home enveloped them. The little creature stirred, its six icy blue eyes blinking open briefly before closing again. Gentle hands placed Svea in the large, porcelain tub. Warm water, scented with something floral, enveloped her. She flinched at first, unused to such pampering, then settled, letting the soft sponges clean away the grime of the wild. Afterwards, wrapped in a fluffy towel, Svea felt a comfort she hadn't known since her mother's warmth. Tyra carefully dried her, then offered a bowl of warm milk. It tasted heavenly, rich and sweet. Full and clean, Svea was placed on a small, plush bed, tucked into a corner of Tyra's bedroom. Tyra sat beside her, gently stroking her head until the little wolf drifted back to sleep. "My brother will be happy to see you," Tyra whispered, pulling a soft blanket over the sleeping pup. She smiled, already envisioning Gunnar’s delight. He loved animals, even more than most people. --- Sharp pain lanced through Gunnar's left shoulder. He clenched his jaw, a low growl escaping his throat. The bite mark, a jagged crescent, felt like fire under his skin. It wasn't healing. It was doing something else entirely. Raw anger surged. He slammed his fist against the mahogany desk, a vase of fresh roses toppling and shattering. The maid would be furious. He didn't care. Redness pulsed behind his eyes. The venom, insidious and relentless, spread a little further, a cold burning sensation radiating from the wound. He felt it in his bones, in the sudden intensity of his emotions. His temper, always a volatile thing, now felt untethered. A spark ignited a raging inferno. He fought for control, gripping the edge of the desk until his knuckles turned white. Growls vibrated in his chest. He was changing. The bite had done something to him, something primal and terrifying. He knew it. He felt it with every accelerating heartbeat. --- Warm sunlight streamed through the window, painting stripes across the wooden floor. Svea stretched, a long, languid yawn escaping her. Her body felt strangely refreshed, lighter. Padding silently, she hopped off the soft bed. The house was quiet. Tyra was gone. Her ears perked, listening. A faint rustling came from another room. She walked with a curious gait, her small paws making no sound on the polished floors. A new scent filled her nostrils – human, but different from Tyra's. Cleaner, sweeter. Exploring each room, she found strange objects: soft cushions on large seats, shiny surfaces reflecting her tiny form, tall structures filled with books. This human world was fascinating. Stairs loomed ahead, a daunting climb for her small size. But curiosity outweighed the challenge. With determination, she placed one paw, then another, slowly ascending the carpeted steps. Each step was an effort, her small legs straining. She slipped once, scrambling to regain her footing. Finally, she reached the top, panting slightly. A doorway stood ajar. Pushing it open with her nose, she crept inside. There, on a vast bed, lay Tyra, tangled in sheets, fast asleep. Svea’s tiny tail gave a happy twitch. Hopping onto the bed, she nudged Tyra’s hand. No response. She tried again, then began to lick Tyra’s fingers, her tiny tongue a gentle rasp. Tyra stirred, a soft groan escaping her lips. Her eyelids fluttered open. She blinked, then smiled. "Baby, you are awake?!" she asked, her voice still thick with sleep. Svea barked, a happy, high-pitched sound, her whole body wiggling with excitement. Her tail wagged furiously, a blur of gray. Smiling, Tyra sat up, stretching. She reached out, carefully scooping Svea into her arms. A soft kiss pressed against the small wolf’s forehead. "Good morning, little one," she murmured, slipping her feet into fuzzy slippers. Svea, still in her arms, began licking Tyra's face with enthusiastic devotion. Tyra giggled, a bright, cheerful sound. "Stop it, you little rascal!" Tyra laughed, her voice light as she carried Svea downstairs. The world seemed a little brighter with the tiny wolf in her arms. Placing Svea gently on the kitchen table, Tyra leaned against the counter. "What should I name you?" she mused aloud, tapping her chin. Svea sat obediently, her six eyes fixed on Tyra. "Emm... Michelle," Tyra suggested, her brow furrowed in thought. Svea's eyes widened, a tiny shake of her head. No. Definitely not Michelle. "Okay, if not that, what about Charlie!" Tyra tried, her voice brighter. Svea shook her head again, a small whimper escaping her. "Okay... Jasmine!" Tyra said, a triumphant smile on her face. Svea shook her head more vigorously this time, a tiny growl rumbling in her throat. The names were awful. So human. So… wrong. "Nene?" Tyra offered, a hopeful lilt in her voice. Svea looked like she was about to vomit. Her nose wrinkled in distaste. It was getting harder to pretend. She wanted to speak, to tell Tyra. Many more names tumbled from Tyra's lips. Pixie. Bella. Princess. Each one met with a shake of Svea's head, a protesting bark, or a tiny, frustrated growl. She tried to form words, but only barks and whines came out. Her true name, Svea, felt locked behind a vocal cord barrier. Tyra sighed, running a hand through her hair. "This is harder than I thought!" She paced, then stopped by her old music player. Her eyes scanned the dusty album covers. A title caught her eye. 'Lily' by Alan Walker. A sudden spark of inspiration. Tyra gasped, a wide smile spreading across her face. "LILY!!!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement. Svea tilted her head, considering the sound. Lily. It resonated. It felt light, fresh, and strangely fitting. A sense of rightness settled over her. She loved it. She jumped up and down happily, barking with pure joy. Her tail wagged so hard her whole body vibrated. This was it. This was her name, for now. Tyra laughed, delight clear in her eyes. "I knew you would love it!" She quickly found the song and pressed play. The ethereal melody filled the kitchen, and Svea barked along, a cute, playful sound. "So adorable!" Tyra scooped Lily into a hug, nuzzling her soft fur. "So your name is Lily." Svea barked her agreement, a perfect disguise for the ancient wolf with a hidden power. No one would ever suspect. “Common, let’s go take some bath,” Tyra said, carrying Lily towards the bathroom again, completely unaware of the true nature of the small, six-eyed creature in her arms. --- Footsteps thudded down the grand staircase. Gunnar's face was a thundercloud. His jaw was clenched, a muscle jumping in his cheek. He had to stop this. This… madness. The burning in his shoulder flared, intensifying his rage. "EMMA!" Gunnar shouted angrily. Emma looked up from the couch, startled by the sheer force of his voice. "Yes, darling?" she asked, her voice sweet, innocent. His sister, forever enabling her pets. "Please, put your CAT! in control because she might not like what I'm going to do to her!

Chaper 3: LILY!!!