Chapter 3 CHAPTER 3 MOON GODDESS MAKES MISTAKES

Ophelia’s POV

The battlefield dissolved around me, and suddenly I was back in that weird moonlight platform place with Moon Goddess.

Except this time, Hex wasn't a massive, intimidating silver wolf.

He was a tiny, fluffy ball of silver fur about the size of a house cat, curled up and trembling.

"Hex!" I dropped to my knees beside him. "Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?" he wheezed, one eye cracking open. "I just manifested physically against a fully corrupted Alpha in the wrong timeline node. I'm lucky I didn't get completely dispersed."

"I'm so sorry." I reached out to pet him but hesitated. "Can I...?"

"Yes, fine, whatever," he grumbled.

I gently stroked his silver fur. It felt weird—half-solid, half-mist, like touching smoke that had weight.

"I almost died for you, you know," Hex continued, his voice muffled. "Literally almost ceased to exist. Do you have any idea how much energy it takes to manifest like that?"

"I know, I know. Thank you for saving me."

"You're welcome. Now let me die in peace."

"You're not dying."

"I feel like I'm dying. This is what dying feels like."

"You're being dramatic."

Silver light bloomed above us, and Moon Goddess appeared, looking... sheepish.

An actual goddess. Looking sheepish.

"Ophelia, Hex, I cannot apologize enough—"

"Oh, you're apologizing?" I stood up, hands on hips. "You sent us to the WRONG TIMELINE! I almost got killed by Future Murder Ryan!"

"I am aware, and I take full responsibility—"

"'Full responsibility'? What does that even mean when you're a goddess? Are you gonna get fired? Go to deity jail?"

"I know." Moon Goddess knelt down, making herself eye-level with me. "Ophelia, I understand you're frightened. You have every right to be. What you saw was horrifying."

"Yeah, no kidding."

"But that's precisely why we need to act. That future—the one you just witnessed—that's what happens if the darkness wins. Ryan becomes a tyrant. He kills his own father. He aligns with rogues and murders innocents. The entire world falls into chaos."

I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly cold. "What happened to him? Why does he turn out like that?"

Moon Goddess's expression turned sad. "That's what I need to explain. Please, sit."

The moonlight platform shifted, creating a comfortable-looking bench. I sat, and Hex dragged himself onto my lap, still in his tiny fluffy form.

Moon Goddess waved her hand, and images appeared in the air like a movie.

"Ryan's father is Colin, the Alpha King of Windplain Pack—the most powerful pack in all of Aravorn. Colin is strong, respected, and beloved by his people. He mates with Marigold, she from the Dustvalley Pack, and they have Ryan."

I watched the scenes play out. A strong man with dark hair holding a baby, a woman with kind eyes smiling at them both.

"For the first few years, Ryan's life is perfect. He's the heir to the most powerful pack in the world. He's loved, protected, cherished."

"Let me guess," I said quietly. "Something goes wrong."

"The dark wolf shadow," Moon Goddess confirmed. "It's an ancient evil—a fragment of a fallen deity that was sealed away millennia ago. Somehow, it found a crack in its prison and began seeping into this world. It needed an anchor point, someone powerful enough to channel its corruption."

"Colin," I guessed.

"Yes. The shadow infected Colin slowly, so gradually that no one noticed. It fed on his insecurities, his fears, his paranoia. It whispered to him in his sleep, made him see threats where there were none."

The image shifted. Colin's eyes started to look harder, colder.

"Marigold's parents led the Dustvalley Pack. They were loyal allies, friends of Colin's for years. But the shadow convinced Colin they were planning a coup. It showed him false visions, twisted innocent conversations into conspiracies."

"Oh no," I whispered.

"Colin attacked Dustvalley Pack. Slaughtered them. Every single wolf, including Marigold's parents." Moon Goddess's voice was heavy with sorrow. "Marigold begged him to stop. She tried to reason with him. And he..."

The image showed it. Colin's claws, Marigold falling, blood spreading across the ground.

"He killed his own mate," I breathed. "Ryan's mom."

"Ryan was seven years old," Moon Goddess continued. "He watched it happen. Watched his father murder his mother in cold blood."

I felt sick. That little boy in the earlier images, the one being held so lovingly—he watched his own mother die.

"Colin claimed it was justified," Moon Goddess said. "Claimed Marigold was a traitor, part of the conspiracy. But deep down, some part of him knew what he'd done. The shadow used that guilt, that self-loathing, and turned it outward."

"Onto Ryan," Hex said quietly from my lap.

"Yes. Colin began to see Ryan as a threat. The boy looked too much like his mother. He was a constant reminder of Colin's greatest sin. So Colin withdrew his protection. He let the pack members sense his disapproval. And wolves, like most social creatures, take their cues from their Alpha."

The images showed a young Ryan—maybe eight or nine—being shoved by other pack kids. Being left out. Being called names.

"The bullying got worse as Ryan got older. He went from beloved heir to pack pariah. And then Colin took a second mate—Quinn, a ruthless she-wolf who saw Ryan as competition for her own future children."

"She actively worked to destroy him. When Ryan was sixteen, Quinn arranged a 'hunting accident.' She had her allies abandon Ryan in rogue territory—an area no young wolf should face alone."

The image showed Ryan, smaller than the version I'd seen on the battlefield, running through dark woods. Wolves with red eyes—rogues—chasing him.

"He should have died," Moon Goddess said. "Most wolves his age would have. But Ryan survived. He fought, he fled, he did whatever it took. He made it out alive."

"Was he banished?"

"Not officially. Ryan left on his own. He couldn't return to a pack that had tried to kill him. So he became a rogue himself—a lone wolf, surviving on the edges of pack territories."

The images showed Ryan growing older, harder. Always alone, always fighting.

"The darkness that had corrupted his father found him," Moon Goddess said softly. "The shadow recognized Ryan's pain, his rage, his loneliness. It offered him power. It offered him revenge. And eventually, Ryan accepted."

The final image showed the Ryan I'd seen on the battlefield—eyes cold, sword bloody, standing over his father's corpse.

"He returned to Windplain Pack when he was twenty-three," Moon Goddess said. "Stronger than anyone expected. He challenged Colin for the Alpha position and won. He killed his father in single combat. Then he allied with the rogues—the very wolves who'd once hunted him—and began a reign of terror that would eventually consume the entire world."

The images faded, and we sat in heavy silence.

"That's..." I tried to find words. "That's the saddest thing I've ever heard."

"It's a tragedy," Moon Goddess agreed. "A good child, broken by cruelty and corruption, turned into a monster."

"But it hasn't happened yet," Hex said from my lap. "That's the point, right? We can still stop it."

"Exactly." Moon Goddess turned to me. "The timeline is already fracturing. Small things are happening out of order. The shadow is growing stronger. But the critical moments haven't occurred yet. We still have time."

"Fine," I said finally. "Let's do this. But if you send me to the wrong timeline again—"

"I won't," Moon Goddess promised. "This time, I'll personally verify every calculation. You'll arrive exactly when and where you're supposed to."

"Which is?"

"Ironcliff Pack territory, approximately one year before Ryan's abandonment. You'll have time to establish yourself, make connections, and eventually find a way to meet Ryan before the critical timeline nodes occur."

"One year," I repeated. "That's not much time."

The moonlight began to swirl around me again, and I felt that pulling sensation.

Moon Goddess's voice echoed as the platform dissolved. "Good luck, Ophelia. Save Ryan. Save the world. And most importantly—"

"Don't die?" I guessed.

"Don't die," she confirmed.

"GREAT ADVICE!" I shouted as everything turned to light.

The light faded, and I felt solid ground under my feet again.

This time, I kept my eyes squeezed shut.

"Please be somewhere safe," I whispered. "Please be somewhere safe. Please don't be another battlefield."

"You can open your eyes," Hex said in my head, back to his invisible-voice-only form. "We made it."

I cracked one eye open. Then the other.

We were standing in the middle of a bustling medieval marketplace.

"Oh thank god," I breathed.

The square was huge, filled with wooden stalls and tents selling everything from fresh bread to leather goods to—were those healing crystals? Okay, apparently medieval werewolf markets had healing crystals. Sure. Why not.

People—no, wait, werewolves—crowded the space. Most looked completely human, wearing tunics and dresses that looked straight out of a Renaissance fair.

The smell was... intense. Wood smoke, roasting meat, fresh herbs.