Chapter 20
The village was quiet the next morning.
Not the kind of silence we used to fear—the cold, dreadful quiet that preceded pain. This was different. This silence held grief… and resolve.
Everyone moved slower. Eyes were red-rimmed, shoulders heavy. But no one hid. No one collapsed into despair.
We had become too strong for that.
I walked through the center of the village with a bundle of herbs in my arms, stopping to check on the wounded. One wolf had broken a leg; another had deep gashes along his ribs. I treated them all, careful and steady, even as my own body throbbed with soreness.
He spent the day in the training field, not training, just watching—making sure everyone who remained was accounted for, making mental notes of weaknesses we could no longer afford. His expression was unreadable, his shoulders taut with the weight of leadership.
When I finally approached him at dusk, he was sharpening a blade, sitting alone on a wooden bench.
“You haven’t eaten,” I said softly.
He didn’t look up. “Not hungry.”
“You’re not invincible.”
His jaw twitched. “Neither were they.”
I sat beside him, laying a hand on his arm. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“That boy,” he whispered, voice cracking, “he looked at me before it happened. Like he thought I’d save him. Like he trusted me.”
“You did save him,” I said. “You gave him a reason to fight. You gave him a choice. He died free.”
He finally met my gaze. And in his eyes, I saw everything he never said aloud—the guilt, the love, the determination. The boy who once thought he wasn’t worthy of love now carried the weight of so many lives.
“We can’t do this alone forever,” I said. “We need allies. Other packs. If Radek had this much influence… who knows how far his corruption spread.”
He nodded slowly. “I was thinking the same.”
We spent that night mapping out nearby territories. Packs we knew, ones we didn’t. Some had cut themselves off for decades. Others might be sympathetic.
But reaching them would mean leaving the village exposed.
“I’ll go,” he said, tracing a line along the map.
I felt the twist in my stomach before I even spoke. “No. We go together.”
He looked at me, torn. “You just got your life back.”
“And I’m not going to waste it waiting behind walls while you walk into danger alone. I didn’t survive just to live in fear again.”
He nodded, not arguing. He knew better than to try.
We made preparations. Trusted wolves would hold the village while we were gone. We trained harder. Stocked weapons. Sent a message to every scout and trader willing to carry a symbol of peace—and warning—to the surrounding lands.
Our journey would be risky. We had no guarantee of welcome. No idea how many enemies still wore friendly faces.
But we had something stronger than certainty.
We had purpose.
Before we left, we stood on the hill overlooking everything we had built. Smoke rose from the chimneys. Wolves moved between cabins, laughing again, even if a little quieter.
He turned to me, gripping my hand tightly.
“Five years ago,” he said, “I left because I didn’t think I was enough.”
I squeezed his fingers. “And now?”
“Now I know I’ll never be enough alone. But with you—I can be more.”
We kissed beneath the stars as the wind rustled the trees around us. The journey ahead would be long, but we were no longer lost souls wandering toward freedom.
We were warriors walking toward a future we were determined to shape.
Together.