The Archduke's Songbird-Chapter 177: The Supreme White Wolf

There was no answer. "You’re not going to show yourself?" she asked.

There was only silence. But she did sense the shadows moving on the ground.

Jessamyn clutched her shawl closer to her chest and furrowed her brows, trying to make out the shapes moving in the shadows. The night seemed to hold its breath, the silence growing heavier with each passing second. She strained her eyes, scanning the darkened forest, when suddenly, a rustling noise emerged from the underbrush.

Her eyes widened as she saw them—bulldog ants, larger than any she had ever seen. They moved with an eerie coordination, their glossy black bodies glistening in the moonlight. Jessamyn’s heart pounded in her chest as the ants advanced toward her, their mandibles clicking ominously.

She stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to move. The ants seemed to be drawn to her, their focus unrelenting as they closed in. It was as if they were under a spell, their movements synchronized and purposeful. The air grew thick with tension, and Jessamyn felt a chill run down her spine. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

First, there were snakes, then there were leeches, and now there were ants. She didn’t know why all those poisonous beings were trying to attack her.

Her breath came in shallow gasps as she watched the ants approach. They formed a tight circle around her, their legs moving in perfect harmony. Jessamyn felt a strange sense of dread wash over her, the realization that she was their target sinking in.

She wanted to scream, to run, but her body refused to obey.

The ants moved closer, their mandibles opening and closing with a rhythmic snap. Jessamyn’s heart raced, her mind a whirl of fear and confusion. She had never seen ants behave this way before, so determined and relentless. It was as if an unseen force was guiding them, compelling them to attack.

She took a hesitant step back, her foot catching on a root. The sudden movement broke the spell, and the ants surged forward, their bodies shimmering in the moonlight. Jessamyn’s instincts kicked in.

I need help!

"Jerrick!" she shouted as she stumbled backward.

His name was what she could think of when she thought about help. She didn’t think of the white wolf who had just left. She thought of Jerrick.

Maybe it was because she knew of the looming threat to her life and her experience with near-death situations where Jerrick’s presence helped her, or she was holding onto his promise that he was near her all the time...

She called out his name with her eyes never leaving the advancing horde.

Just as she decided to turn and flee, a figure emerged from the shadows—the white wolf.

But this was not the same white wolf she had just spoken with earlier. This one was more majestic, a creature of beauty and terror, exuding an aura of ancient power and undeniable strength.

His fur was a dazzling cascade of purest white, shimmering like freshly fallen snow in the moonlight. Each strand seemed to catch the light, creating an ethereal glow around him, as if he were a spectral guardian of the night.

His eyes were pools of molten gold, reflecting a depth of wisdom and fiery intensity that made Jessamyn’s breath catch in her throat. They were not the eyes of a mere beast but of a being who held divine power.

His gaze held an otherworldly intelligence, piercing through the darkness and locking onto hers with an unspoken understanding.

He did seem familiar though—the same wolf she touched back then. He turned invisible then too. His presence might have been the one she felt earlier.

Who is he? Why did the Great One not acknowledge his presence? Did he not feel it? Am I the only one to feel him?

The muscles beneath his gleaming coat rippled with each deliberate step he took, a testament to his raw, primal power. His presence commanded the forest, bending it to his will. The air around him seemed to shimmer with a faint luminescence, a halo of light that marked his divine nature.

As he moved, the shadows danced and retreated, as if they too acknowledged his supremacy.

With a low, resonant growl, the white wolf advanced toward the encroaching ants. His growl was not merely a sound but a visible force that reverberated through the ground, sending a shiver down Jessamyn’s spine.

The ants hesitated, their unnatural coordination faltering under the weight of his presence. They sensed the power radiating from him, a power that dwarfed their own.

They scattered away.

Jessamyn felt a wave of relief and awe wash over her. The white wolf stood as a barrier between her and the swarm, his mere presence a shield against the dark forces that sought to harm her.

In that moment, she realized she was in the presence of something extraordinary, a guardian of a forgotten age, bound to protect and guide through the shadows of the night.

The white wolf’s eyes never left hers, and in them, she saw a promise—of protection, of unwavering loyalty, and of a strength that could defy even the darkest of evils.

"Get on!"

The voice resonated in her mind, majestic and gentle at the same time. It was a sound that seemed to be woven from the very essence of the forest, familiar and yet one she couldn’t grasp. Deep and resonant, it filled her with a sense of calm and security, as if she were being cradled in the arms of the night itself.

There was a commanding undertone, a quiet authority that brooked no argument, yet it was laced with an unmistakable gentleness that reassured her. The voice was a melody of strength and tenderness, like the caress of a velvet glove over iron.

It echoed through her mind, wrapping around her thoughts like a comforting embrace, urging her to trust and follow, as if she had known him for all her life, and trusted him with her everything.

Jessamyn felt a strange compulsion, not out of obedience, but a bewildered acceptance. The voice was unlike anything she had ever heard, compelling and soothing all at once.

Without fully understanding why, she found herself moving toward him. Her body responded to the voice with an almost instinctual ease, her mind surrendering to the gentle command.

As she walked to him, the ants scattered away, afraid of being in her shadow, as if they were forbidden to even be in her presence.

She placed her hands on his strong, broad back, feeling the powerful muscles beneath his silky fur; her fingers twitched.

As she climbed onto his back, she felt an inexplicable bond form between them that defied explanation.

The ants, once menacing and relentless, now seemed insignificant in the presence of the white wolf. His power and majesty dwarfed their threat, and as he began to move, Jessamyn felt a surge of confidence and strength flow through her. She clung to his fur, her fear melting away, replaced by a profound sense of awe and gratitude.

The white wolf carried her through the forest with a grace and speed that took her breath away.