He was not just a guardian—he was a creator. A proud and ancient being, one of the few gods who shaped their world rather than inheriting it.
But something… disturbed the calm.
A ripple.
A presence.
Not mortal.
Not native.
Divine.
Shadow froze atop a mountain peak. His hackles rose.
Another god… in my realm?
It was not just a trespass—it was a challenge. His world was sacred, crafted by claw and will. No being, divine or not, had the right to enter uninvited.
With a growl rumbling in his chest, Shadow followed the trail of divine energy, cutting through the sky like a phantom.
And then, he saw her.
She stood by a lake that reflected stars not yet born. Hair like moonlight, eyes like galaxies folded inward. Her presence was unlike anything he had sensed before—gentle, yet vast… raw, yet innocent.
Beautiful, he thought briefly, before crushing the feeling.
“Who are you?” Shadow demanded, his voice a snarl of thunder. “This world is mine. You walk it uninvited.”
The woman turned, unafraid. She bowed slightly, then straightened with a calm grace.
“My name is Sasha,” she said. “I am a wandering god. Born of the void. I have no world to call home… but yours sang to me. I only wish to stay—just for a while. I mean no harm.”
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Her words were soft, but her aura... vast.
Shadow narrowed his eyes. He was the prideful god of this realm, one of the strongest beings in existence. He laughed—a short, amused bark.
“A wanderer? In my world?” He circled her. “Do you think this place is a garden for the lost? I owe you nothing.”
But there was something about her—something disarming. Despite his caution, he allowed her to remain.
“Very well,” he said. “Stay. But don’t get in my way.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
Days passed. Shadow returned to his duties, watching over his world, managing the delicate balance of power between his two greatest creations—the Wolves and the Werewolves. Creatures of instinct and loyalty. Two mighty kingdoms born of him, ruled by honor and pride.
Sasha, intrigued but idle, approached him again.
“Will you show me something interesting?” she asked, with a spark of curiosity in her voice.
Shadow hesitated. “You find boredom in a god’s realm?”
She shrugged. “I’ve walked galaxies, seen stars die and be born again. Show me what makes your world different.”
With a quiet growl, Shadow agreed.
He took her across his lands, through wild forests and eternal plains. He showed her the twin kingdoms—the Wolves in their stone citadels, noble and fierce, and the Werewolves, nomadic and passionate.
Then… he showed her a story.
A young wolf and a werewolf—lovers forbidden by culture, yet determined to unite the kingdoms with nothing but their love.
Sasha watched their tale unfold, the struggle, the defiance, the hope. Her eyes softened.
“Interesting,” she murmured.
Shadow said nothing, but he noticed.
He led her then to a cliff where the skies met the sea, where time felt paused. The wind was light. The moment still.
Sasha stood there in silence, breath caught.
It was here she realized:
This world was not just built—it was loved.
Shadow had poured his soul into it.
After all the corruption, all the broken gods I’ve met… this one… he cares.
She decided.
She would stay.
As time passed, Sasha and Shadow grew closer. What began as awkward silence became playful banter. Shared moments. Mutual understanding.
But Shadow… began to feel something foreign.
Emotion.
Attachment.
Fear.
He didn’t understand it, so he sought advice from his most trusted lieutenants.
Zic and Pugh, hybrid twins—half wolf, half werewolf—were the only beings with rank just below his. Wise, mischievous, and endlessly loyal.
“She makes me…” Shadow muttered. “Feel strange. Off balance.”
Pugh snickered. “Oh no. The mighty Shadow—off balance?”
Zic grinned. “You’re in love, boss.”
Shadow growled. “Ridiculous.”
Pugh elbowed Zic. “He’s blushing in wolf form.”
Zic nodded solemnly. “Historic.”
Flustered, Shadow turned away. But before he could respond, a summons thundered through the skies—a call only the gods could hear.
A call from the Creator.
Shadow’s eyes narrowed.
“A gods’ meeting…”