All Chapters of The last Guardian: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Linda’s P.o.v.There’s an unease in the air, thick and suffocating, I can almost see it vibrating, much like the rising heat that’s visible above the asphalted roads on a hot summers-day. Although I have never been able to shift, the wolf gene that’s encoded deep within my blood feels as if it’s bristled, hackles raised and ready to attack.I have tried every single ritual I can think of, from breathing exercises to full on spell work, just to get a premonition on what’s about to happen, but to no avail.Frustrated I throw the bowl of moon water against the wall, shattering the intricate glasswork into a thousand little colorful pieces, sunlight peeking through the old wooden shutters hits the shards and creates a kaleidoscope of miniature rainbows on the cream colored walls of my little personal shrine.I would’ve called it a beautiful sight had I not been so incredibly on edge.Just as I reluctantly grab my broom to clean up the mess I made, the door to my sanctuary is flung open a

Christian’s P.O.V.A sharp pinch in my neck baffled me for a second but the moment my limbs refused to obey me, I knew I’d underestimated them. The tranquilizer burned through my veins, a cruel mockery of the power I once wielded. Everything blurred—the trees, the stars overhead, the forest floor rushing up to meet me. They’d been waiting, watching, and I’d walked right into their trap.The first thing I noticed upon waking was the cold. The chill seeped through the rough stone beneath me, biting even through my clothes. My wrists and ankles were bound with silver chains, their malevolent energy sapping my strength and keeping my wolf suppressed. The room smelled of damp stone, mildew, and faintly of iron. A dungeon. Of course, they’d put me in a dungeon."He’s awake," a gravelly voice remarked, somewhere in the shadows. Footsteps approached, heavy and deliberate. When the figure finally emerged into the dim light of the single flickering bulb above me, I recognized him immediately. Jo

The first rays of dawn spilled over the horizon, casting a golden light on the clearing behind the cottage. Sam stood in the middle, his arms crossed, a no-nonsense expression on his face and I am stood opposite him, sweat already dampening my clothes despite the cool morning air.“This isn’t going to be easy,” Sam said, his voice hard. “If you want to save your father, you’re going to have to push past every limit you think you have. Your strength, your endurance, your mind—it all has to sharpen. The bastards that have Christian won’t go easy on you, and neither will I.”I clenched my fists, I had been in a brawl or two in high school, I knew how to throw a punch. “I’m ready.” I said determined.He smirked, the scar on his face creating a hauntingly eerie grimace, the fact that the smile didn’t reach his eyes adding to the overall menacing look. “We’ll see.”The first exercise was deceptively simple: running. But not just any running. Sam led me up steep hills, through dense forests,

Christians P.O.V. The scent of blood and fear is absolutely suffocating. It clings to the humid air, mingling with the metallic tang of rust and despair. As I stumble forward, my shackled hands aching from the rough silver chains are biting into my wrists, I’m unsure of what’s awaiting me, but I’m certain it won’t be anything good. The sheer cacophony of smells that bombards my nose is sickening.The two guards flanking me are humans, wearing smug expressions and carrying cattle prods like they’re some kind of medieval wardens. They don’t say much, just the occasional grunt or barked command to keep me moving. The electric collar around my neck buzzing faintly is a constant reminder of my own stupidity. Every step I take feels heavier than the last, but I refuse to give them the satisfaction of seeing me falter.They drag me through the barren lands that used to be a green oasis, the place we called home once, when high floodlights buzz to life overhead and blind me for a second or t

Tara’s P.o.v: I stumbled into the cottage, each step heavier than the last. My legs quivering from the punishing combat drills, my arms screaming in protest at even the slightest movement. The door creaked as it closed behind me, the sound echoing faintly in the stillness of the night. I leaned against the sturdy wooden frame, allowing myself a r moment of vulnerability, and exhale a shuddering breath.The warmth of the cottage greets me, though it does little to soothe the storm raging within. My fingers tremble as I peeled off the sweat-soaked, dirt-streaked clothing clinging to my body. The day’s training was brutal, yet it paled in comparison to the shocking revelation that had emerged in the clearing: fire. Raw, uncontrollable fire that erupted from my hands with a fierce, primal hunger. I felt its heat, saw its searing glow, but now, as I stand here, the memory feels distant, almost unreal.“What the hell is happening to me?” I whisper into the quiet room, nearly expecting so