Golden sunlight pricked at Svea’s eyelids, forcing her to blink against the sudden, bright glare filtering through the towering arched windows of the Bertram estate. Yawning widely, she stretched her tiny legs, feeling a strange tightness in her muscles. Staying near Tyra’s room for the past few days had triggered a subtle change in her body, a tiny growth spurt that made her fur thicker and her limbs a fraction longer. Yet, she remained frustratingly trapped in this fluffy, four-legged form, unable to shift back to human. Clambering over the wooden lip of her makeshift velvet box, she tumbled onto the plush Persian rug. A pair of heavy, expensive leather boots stood directly in her path, polished to a mirror-like shine. Slowly raising her head, her piercing icy blue eyes—the legendary Six Eyes that held the power of infinity—traveled up a pair of long, muscular legs clad in dark denim, all the way to a sharp, chiseled jawline. Broad shoulders blocked the morning light, and she found herself staring at a handsome, muscular man with jet-black hair. Pitch-black hair fell messily over a forehead currently creased in a deep, irritated scowl. He was incredibly handsome for his twenty years, possessing a raw, striking beauty that made her wolf heart skip a beat, even in this vulnerable pup state. "So this is Tyra's brother," she barked, her voice coming out as a sharp, demanding yip that echoed in the quiet room. "COUSIN!" the man snapped back instantly, his voice dropping to a dangerous, irritated rumble that vibrated through the floorboards. Shock paralyzed her small frame. Her ears perked up, her jaw dropping open in sheer disbelief. "You can hear me?" she squeaked, tilting her head. "Every single bit of your annoying yapping," he snorted, crossing his massive arms over his chest. "I can hear the thoughts of beasts, though I usually choose to ignore them." "Wow. Finally, I can talk with someone," she whined softly, her tail dropping as a wave of sadness washed over her. "But I miss Tyra so much. She was nice to me." Narrowing his dark, calculating eyes, Gunnar leaned down, his shadow engulfing her completely. "How did you two meet? I mean, you and Tyra. She doesn't just bring random wild animals home." "I got lost in the woods," she murmured, sitting back on her haunches and looking up at him defensively. "I know you know what I am. You can smell it." "A wolf? Of course I know. Your wild, pine-like smell is literally all over this house," Gunnar stated, his nostrils flaring slightly. "It's irritating my senses." Curiosity burned in her chest, overriding her caution. "Are you a wolf, too? Or did someone turn you into one? You don't smell entirely human either." "No," he replied flatly, his expression hardening. "Where are your parents?" Looking downward, she stared at her tiny, white-tipped paws. "They died." "How?" Gunnar questioned, his voice lacking any trace of warmth. "Killed by another pack," she whispered, the painful memory of blood and fire tightening her chest. Suddenly, she sprang up and leaped down from the low wooden table she had climbed onto. "HEY!" Gunnar growled, his voice vibrating through the spacious room. "This is my mansion, and you should not be roaming about like you own the place. What's your name?" Puffing out her chest, she stood tall like a dramatic legend, trying to look as fierce as possible. "My name is Lily." "No, I mean the one your parents gave you," he countered, rolling his eyes at her theatrical stance. "SVEA!" she cut in, her blue eyes flashing with ancient pride. "Wow... such a... nice name," Gunnar muttered, turning his face away to hide a sudden softening in his expression. Deep down, a strange warmth fluttered in his chest, making him instantly defensive. He was twenty, dealing with a dark venom slowly creeping through his veins, waiting for a spark of hot temper to unleash it. Having feelings for a little wolf pup was the last thing he needed, especially when his own life was on a razor's edge. He had to be cautious; she was cute, but she was a wild creature. "Okay, let's go out," Gunnar said abruptly, shaking off his thoughts and grabbing a dark jacket. "To where?" she asked, tilting her head and eyeing him with deep suspicion. "Just the street, then to the park," he muttered, opening the door. Pondering his words, she decided to trust him just this once. "Okay." Bounding toward the massive front door, she jumped up and down excitedly, her tail whipping back and forth in a blur. "Not like that," Gunnar grunted, swooping down to scoop her up in his arms. "Hey!" she yelped, squirming against his solid chest. "Why are you carrying me?" "So you can run around and get run over? Nah, not happening," he said, locking his strong arms around her. "You are too small." "Fine, but I'm starving," she whined, her stomach letting out a timely rumble. "Well, we'll buy something on the way," Gunnar grumbles, pulling his shirt tight. Wagging her tail happily, she settled into his arms, enjoying the warmth radiating from him. --- Bright morning light flooded the bustling Florence streets as Gunnar carried her through the growing crowds. Scent of fresh pastries, rich espresso, and gasoline filled her nose, making her sneeze repeatedly. Stepping into a small, cramped pet boutique, Gunnar set her down on a glass counter. "Ok, I'm wearing you this," Gunnar stated, holding up a stiff, bright red dog collar. Growling fiercely, she pulled away, her ears flattening against her skull. "Come on, don't act silly," Gunnar muttered, reaching for her neck. Sharp, loud barks erupted from her throat, echoing off the wooden walls of the shop. "Lily! Lily!!" Gunnar hissed, closing his eyes in sheer embarrassment. Ignored completely, she kept barking, snapping her jaws near his fingers to keep him away. Several shoppers turned around, staring at them with raised eyebrows. "Lily, I don't want people to see your weird behavior, so come on..." Gunnar whispered, his face flushing crimson as he leaned in close. Svea barked even louder, her tiny tail pointing straight up in absolute defiance. "Svea! Other dogs wear it!" he growled under his breath. "Well, I'm not a dog!" she barked back, wishing he could actually explain that to the crowd. "Yes, you are," Gunnar snapped, his jaw clenching tightly as he struggled to hold her still. "Is he normal?" a middle-aged man whispered to his wife near the back of the shop. "He is arguing with his dog," the woman whispered back, looking at Gunnar as if he had lost his mind. "SVEA!!!" Gunnar roared. Suddenly, his dark eyes flashed a vivid, terrifying crimson red before quickly fading back to black. Fear gripped her instantly. Whipping her tail between her back legs, she let out a pathetic whine and surrendered, slumping onto the counter. Gunnar quickly fastened the collar around her neck and clipped a leather leash to it. "What's there? You can't do anything other than embarrassing me in public on my birthday," Gunnar muttered, holding the leash with a triumphant, though irritated, smirk. "Come on, move." Sighing heavily, she hopped down from the counter, her ears drooped in defeat as they stepped back out onto the street. --- Walking out of the shop, the cool breeze did little to soothe Gunnar's ruffled temper. Stopping at a small street cart, he bought a container of roasted meat for her and a pastry for himself. A sharp, digital ringing broke the silence, vibrating against his thigh. "Who is calling me?" he muttered, pulling the phone from his pocket. Sitting down on the pavement, Svea watched other dogs strolling happily past with their owners, wishing she could be as carefree as them. Gunnar saw Tyra's caller ID flashing on the screen and quickly swiped to answer. "Tyra, I'm not—" "I've canceled coming today," Tyra cut in, her voice sounding rushed over the speaker. "Oh, ok. I wanted to tell you I'm not at home anyway," Gunnar replied, shifting his weight. "Gunnar, where are you? What of Lily?" Tyra asked, her tone laced with sisterly concern. "She's fine. We are going to the park." "Ok, sorry that I'm not coming today, but I will try to come tomorrow, okay?" Tyra promised. "Ok," Gunnar said simply. "That's good, little brother," Tyra teased, her laughter echoing through the receiver. "Tyra!" Gunnar pouted, his voice rising in a childish, irritated whine. Giggling softly, Tyra sighed. "Kidding. Ok, bye for now." "Bye," he muttered, hanging up the phone. Looking down at her, his expression smoothed over. "Let's go to the park and eat." Tugging gently on the leash, he guided her down the sidewalk as she eagerly followed his lead. --- Green lawns stretched out before them as they entered the grand city park, the air smelling of cut grass and blooming flowers. Gunnar found a shaded wooden bench and sat down, while Svea immediately curled up on the soft grass nearby. Devouring her roasted meat, she kept one eye on the shimmering lake where white ducks glided gracefully across the water. "Ok, time for training," Gunnar announced, suddenly kneeling beside her. Clicking open the metal clasp, he removed the leash from her collar. Svea looked up at him, tilting her head in confusion. Picking up a thick, wooden stick from the grass, Gunnar held it right in front of her wet nose. "What are you doing?" she asked, raising an eyebrow-like tuft of fur. "Sniff it," Gunnar ordered. Wrinkling her nose, she sniffed the damp wood, sneezing slightly at the dirt clinging to it. Suddenly, Gunnar spun around and threw the stick as hard as he could across the field. "Fetch!" Svea stared at him like he was an absolute idiot, her jaw slightly slack. "What? Go on," Gunnar urged, pointing toward the distant grass. "Fetch what?" she muttered, not moving an inch. "The stick," Gunnar said, his voice dripping with mock patience. "How am I... going to fetch it?" she grumpily snapped back. "You sniffed it, right?" Gunnar raised an eyebrow. "Yes," she huffed. "Now, you will need to sniff around, find it, and bring it back to me," he explained, crossing his arms. "I can't," she complained, turning her head away. "That's what animals do, especially dog families," Gunnar snorted, waving his hand toward the field. Sighing, Svea lowered her head and began to sniff the air, caught up in the instinct to prove him wrong. "That's it," Gunnar said, flashing a fake, sweet smile. Inside his mind, a dark grin spread. *This is a perfect opportunity to get rid of this little raccoon and go home in peace,* he thought, slowly stepping backward. Keenly focusing on the scent of damp oak, Svea trotted further into the brush, completely unaware of his quiet retreat. Finding the stick wedged under a thick root, she proudly grabbed it in her jaws and turned around. Empty space greeted her. "Gunnar... Gun?" she mumbled around the wood, dropping it onto a nearby bench. Searching frantically, her icy blue eyes scanned the crowded pathways, but the tall, black-haired man was nowhere to be found. "Betrayer," she growled, her chest tightening with a painful mix of anger and abandonment. --- Rustling leaves nearby caught her attention, pulling her out of her sudden misery. Two fluffy golden retriever puppies bounded out of the bushes, their tails wagging like crazy. Startled, Svea took a step back, her wild instincts screaming at her to be cautious. Images of her old pack flashed in her mind—of playing in the snow before everything was ripped away. "Can you play with us?" the smaller puppy asked, barking in a high-pitched, friendly tone. "Please!!!" the slightly larger one pleaded, bouncing on his front paws. "Ok," Svea barked, a small spark of joy lighting up her heavy heart. Chasing each other in wide circles, they tumbled through the grass, biting playfully at each other's ears. Svea felt lighter than she had in weeks, momentarily forgetting the harsh betrayal of the handsome man who had abandoned her. Introducing themselves as Amalia and Gideon, the two puppies quickly realized she wasn't a normal dog. "You're a wolf, aren't you?" Amalia whispered, her eyes wide with awe. "Yes, but please don't tell anyone," Svea pleaded softly. "We promise!" Gideon barked happily, crossing his paw over his chest. Under the warm midday sun, they played until their tongues hung out from exhaustion. Suddenly, a loud whistle cut through the air, and a human voice called out their names. "We have to go!" Amalia barked, giving Svea a quick nudge. "Go home safe, okay?" "Goodbye!" Gideon chimed in as they both scampered back to their owner. Smiling to herself, Svea felt a renewed sense of determination. Picking up the oak stick in her mouth, she turned toward the park exit, her powerful sense of smell locking onto a very specific, dark-spiced scent. Running with all her might, she traced the familiar scent through the winding streets of Florence, navigating the concrete maze with predatory ease. Slipping through the unlocked side gate of the massive Gunnar's mansion, she bounded up the stone steps of the porch. the i Nudging the heavy wooden front door open with her snout, she trotted right into the grand foyer. Gunnar was sitting on the sofa, a glass of water in hand, looking relaxed and utterly smug talking to Emma and Dia the cat is trying to get Gunnar's attention forgetting that she is a cat Dropping the dirty stick right onto his pristine leather shoes, she let out a loud, triumphant bark. "What! The!! Fuck!!! How did you know the road here?!" he was shocked", "summary": "After waking up and realizing Tyra's cousin Gunnar can understand her, Lily (Svea) accompanies him to the park under the guise of training. However, Gunnar abandons her there, only for Svea to use her powerful senses to track him all the way back to his mansion.

Chapter 6: Betrayer