Chapter 29
The observers from Ironhold arrived a week later.
Three of them. Two men, one woman. No weapons, as promised—just heavy boots, thick coats, and sharp eyes that missed nothing.
They said little, but they watched everything.
They watched Mira lead a group of children through morning drills. Watched Dagan train alongside a wolf he once fought in the blood pits. They sat in on council meetings, stood quietly by the healers’ tents, walked the edge of the forest where farmers now planted herbs instead of hiding bodies.
We didn’t put on a show for them. We didn’t soften the hard edges of our truth.
We showed them who we were.
They saw the scars. The burns. The healing.
And maybe… they saw the strength in it.
One afternoon, the woman—Isolde—approached me while I was tending the herbs by the riverbank. She knelt without a word, ran her fingers through the soil, and finally said, “This used to be a battlefield.”
I nodded. “Now it feeds us.”
She studied me, curious. “You were one of them. The chained ones.”
“I was,” I said, not looking away.
“And now you lead.”
“No,” I said. “We lead. Together.”
She was quiet for a long moment, then whispered, “We were taught wolves can’t change.”
I met her eyes. “Then maybe it’s time you change what you teach.”
That night, during the feast, the observers joined us around the fire. They didn’t speak much, but they didn’t flinch when wolves brushed past them. They accepted food. Even smiled, just a little.
We didn’t need their approval. But we could feel something shift.
After they left, he turned to me, a rare smile breaking across his tired face.
“I think they saw it,” he said.
“Saw what?”
“That we aren’t building a pack anymore,” he whispered. “We’re building a world.”
But not everyone wanted that world to rise.
A scout burst through the gates before sunrise.
“Trouble,” she said, panting. “From the east. A rogue faction—wolf and human—raiding smaller settlements. Claiming they’re coming for the Sanctum next.”
We gathered the council, read the reports, listened to survivors.
It wasn’t just a threat.
It was a challenge.
“They want to break us before we grow stronger,” Mira said.
“They want to make an example,” Dagan growled.
He stood slowly. “Then let them see what happens when you threaten what we love.”
We didn’t rush into battle. We planned. We sent messengers to the smaller allied villages. We brought their people in, built shelters, reinforced defenses. Everyone was welcome—but everyone was warned.
This time, we would not fight to survive.
We would fight to protect.
And when the enemy came, we’d be ready.
That night, I stood by his side atop the walls, watching the forest sway under moonlight. My heart was calm—not from lack of fear, but from clarity.
They would try to tear down what we built.
But they had no idea—
We were not the wolves they had once caged.
We were the wolves that had risen.