Rise of the Fallen Wolf

The dark forest stretched endlessly before Maxwell, a place so ominous that even the bravest wolves avoided it. The air was dense with mist, and the sound of leaves rustling in the wind added to its eerie silence. Maxwell sat quietly in his wheelchair as Rynald guided him deeper into the woods.

"Rynald? Where are we going?" Maxwell asked softly, his voice tinged with unease.

Rynald didn't respond. Moments later, Maxwell realized he was alone. The surrounding darkness pressed in on him, and the stillness of the forest seemed almost alive, watching him.

"Rynald?" Maxwell called again, his voice trembling.

Suddenly, faint movements in the shadows caught his attention. Five pairs of glowing red eyes appeared, circling him. Maxwell's heart raced, but he tried to steady his breathing, hoping to assess the situation. He couldn't make out their forms—they moved too quickly, leaving only a gust of wind in their wake.

The motion stopped abruptly. Emerging from the shadows were wolves, their glowing eyes fixed on Maxwell. He froze, unsure of what to do, as they moved closer.

"Stay calm," he whispered to himself, but the wolves advanced with intent.

---

Rynald's Scheme

As the tension built, the wolves stepped back, and Rynald emerged from the shadows with a sly smile. He was joined by a group of his friends, their laughter breaking the silence.

"Well, cousin," Rynald began, "looks like you're all alone now. Isn't it fitting?"

Maxwell looked at him, confused and betrayed. "Why are you doing this?"

Rynald ignored his question, instead motioning for his friends to step forward. They brought with them a mirror and a flashlight. Rynald crouched down, his face close to Maxwell's.

"Take a good look at yourself," he said, holding up the mirror as one of his friends shone the light.

Maxwell's reflection revealed his disheveled appearance, his pale skin streaked with dirt and scratches. The sight was overwhelming, and Maxwell's breathing quickened.

"This is who you are," Rynald said coldly. "Weak. Helpless. And no one's coming to save you."

His friends laughed, their voices echoing through the forest. Maxwell looked away, tears streaming down his face.

"You'll be forgotten, just like that," Rynald continued, his tone sharp and unfeeling.

---

A Transformation

As Maxwell's emotions swirled, a strange energy coursed through him. His body trembled, and a warm light enveloped him. Before he could process what was happening, he transformed for the first time into his wolf form.

His coat, a striking white streaked with red from his injuries, shimmered under the faint moonlight. His blue eyes shone with an intensity that made Rynald and his friends step back.

"What... what is this?" one of them stammered, their confidence faltering.

Maxwell's transformation left him drained, and he collapsed onto the forest floor. Rynald quickly regained his composure and motioned for his friends to help him.

"Let's leave him," Rynald said, his voice tinged with frustration. They moved him carefully to the edge of the forest, leaving him where he was likely to be found by someone else.

---

An Unexpected Rescue

Hours passed, and the night deepened. A young woman, Zoelle, was riding her motorcycle down a desolate road when her headlights caught sight of something unusual. A wolf lay motionless on the pavement.

"Oh no," she whispered, stopping her bike and approaching cautiously.

Kneeling beside the creature, she saw its injuries. "Who could have done this to you?" she murmured, gently running her hand over its fur.

Though she was nervous, her compassion outweighed her fear. With great effort, she managed to lift the wolf onto her motorcycle and headed straight for the veterinary clinic where she worked.

Her assistant, surprised to see her return so late, raised an eyebrow. "Zoelle, what is that? Are we rescuing wolves now?"

Zoelle gave her a determined look. "We're saving him."

They worked tirelessly that night, tending to the wolf's injuries. The vet carefully addressed his wounds and focused on rehabilitating his weakened muscles. Zoelle stayed by his side, massaging his legs and ensuring he recovered his strength.

---

Healing and Bonding

Over the next month, the wolf, whom Zoelle affectionately nicknamed "Snow," made a remarkable recovery. He grew stronger, his once-lifeless form now full of energy. Snow and Zoelle formed a special bond, and she often found herself talking to him as if he could understand her.

One day, her assistant asked, "What happens when he's fully healed? You know we can't keep him here forever."

Zoelle smiled softly, watching Snow play in the yard. "When the time comes, he'll decide where he wants to go. Until then, he stays with me."

---

Back at the Estate

Meanwhile, the Jones estate was abuzz with speculation about Maxwell's disappearance. With Mr. Jones's death officially announced, Elizabeth wasted no time in consolidating her power.

She sat at the head of the dining table, sipping her coffee and glancing over a stack of documents.

"Rynald," she said sharply, "how has it been a month with no sign of Maxwell? This... absence doesn't sit well with me."

Rynald leaned against the doorframe, clearly annoyed. "You're overthinking it. He's gone, Mother. Let it stay that way."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow but said nothing. The weight of Maxwell's absence hung over them, a silent reminder that some truths couldn't be buried forever.

Somewhere far away, Maxwell was healing—not just his body, but his spirit. And when the time was right, he would return to confront the family that had betrayed him.