Behind the willow

The wolf with in

The truth about James was something Sophia had always felt, even if she hadn’t understood it. There was a wildness in him, a quiet power beneath his calm exterior, and the way his eyes pierced hers—it was as if he could see into her very soul. She had thought it was metaphorical. She had been wrong.

James was a wolf. Not just any wolf, but part of an ancient lineage of shapeshifters bound to the land and its cycles. He had confessed this to her the previous night, just after their conversation had reached its most vulnerable point. He had warned her to stay away, that his world was dangerous, unpredictable, and far from the life she deserved.

But Sophia had already made up her mind. She didn’t want safety—she wanted him.

That afternoon, after finding clarity beneath the willow tree, she made a decision. If James was a wolf, then she needed to find her wolf too. Her place in his world wouldn’t be secure until she truly understood it—and herself.

Sophia found James near the cliffs overlooking the ocean, his figure silhouetted against the horizon. The wind ruffled his hair, and though he seemed calm, she sensed the restless energy coiled inside him, as if the wolf within was always just beneath the surface.

“I need you to help me,” she said firmly, stepping closer.

James turned, his golden eyes flashing in the sunlight. “Help you with what?”

“To find my wolf.”

He frowned, his jaw tightening. “Sophia, it’s not that simple. This isn’t a fairy tale. You can’t just choose to be part of this. It either calls to you, or it doesn’t.”

“It’s already calling to me,” she countered, her voice steady. “I feel it, James. I’ve felt it since I came here. Since I met you.”

James stared at her, his expression a mixture of frustration and something deeper—pride, maybe, or admiration. Finally, he sighed and gestured toward the forest that stretched beyond the cliffs.

“If you’re serious about this, we have to start now. The wolf doesn’t reveal itself to the hesitant or the fearful. You’ll have to trust me, no matter what happens.”

Sophia nodded, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and exhilaration. “I trust you.”

James led her deep into the forest, where the sunlight filtered through the canopy in fractured beams. The air grew cooler, the scents of pine and earth growing stronger with every step.

“Close your eyes,” James instructed once they reached a clearing.

Sophia obeyed, her breath steady despite the nerves swirling in her chest.

“Listen,” James said, his voice low and commanding. “Not just to the sounds, but to the rhythm of the world around you. Feel it.”

She stood still, letting the forest speak to her. The rustle of leaves in the wind. The distant call of a bird. The quiet hum of life pulsing all around. Slowly, she felt something shift inside her—a faint pull, like a thread connecting her to the earth beneath her feet.

“Good,” James murmured. “Now follow it. Let it guide you.”

Sophia opened her eyes, but they were no longer seeing the world as they had before. Colors seemed brighter, sounds sharper. The pull within her grew stronger, leading her deeper into the forest. James followed silently, his gaze watchful.

The journey was long, and dusk began to fall, the shadows stretching out like whispers. Just when Sophia thought she might collapse, she saw it—a silver wolf standing in a pool of moonlight, its eyes mirroring hers.

The wolf didn’t move, didn’t growl. It simply watched her, and Sophia knew: this was her wolf.

“What do I do?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Step closer,” James said. “If it’s truly yours, it will accept you.”

Sophia took a step forward, her heart pounding in her ears. The wolf didn’t retreat. Instead, it lowered its head, acknowledging her.

As their gazes locked, Sophia felt something inside her awaken—a fire, a wildness she had always suspected but never named. The wolf turned, disappearing into the forest, but Sophia knew it hadn’t left her. It was part of her now, its presence settling into her very bones.

James approached, his expression unreadable. “You found it,” he said quietly.

Sophia turned to him, her eyes shining. “No, James. It found me.”