RETURN TO THE PACK
Kael moved through thin trees with the pack like a shadow. Night was quiet. His breath came out in white. Selene walked beside him. Rowan held her coat and watched the dark like it might speak. He still had the wide eyes of a child who trusted the world when his mother was near.
Ronan led them over paths Kael knew by memory. The outer hold waited beyond a low wall—a rough cluster of huts where the pack kept refugees and the weak. Kael kept his senses sharp. He felt the pressure of his pack behind him and the old ache of guilt that lived under his ribs.
Selene spoke once, low. "You sure this is safe?"
Kael wanted to say nothing was safe. He wanted to apologize and then keep walking until the words could mean something. He said instead, "For now. We hide him in the outer hold. Thorne and Lyra will help."
Rowan listened like he was following a story. "Do wolves have beds?" he asked, sleepy.
Kael crouched and met the child's bright eyes. "Sometimes," he said. "Sometimes we sleep where the wind can't find us."
Selene's jaw tightened. Kael saw the walls she had built. He wanted to break them gently, but he could not reach her there yet.
At the gate, Ronan paused. "If Mara sees the boy…" he began.
Kael did not let him finish. He knew what Mara would do. She would turn a child into a lesson. She would make the pack prove a point with a small body. That thought felt like ice.
"Then keep him hidden," Kael said. "Only tell what must be told."
Selene's fingers dug into the coat. "You will tell them?" she asked.
"Some," Kael said. "Thorne, Lyra, Ronan. That's it. You stay with him."
She turned her face away. For a moment Kael saw the woman he once loved—soft and brave—and then the old hurt hardened her. He wanted to earn forgiveness, but he knew forgiveness did not come easy.
The outer hold smelled of stew and smoke. Lyra stood at the door with herbs on her hands. She touched Rowan's hair like she already knew him. "He looks well-fed," she said. "Good. A child survives when he eats and sleeps."
Thorne leaned on his staff. "This is dangerous," he said.
"It's the only choice," Kael answered.
Inside, the hut was spare but warm. Selene curled around Rowan like a shield. Kael watched the small family and felt the pull of two worlds—the life Selene had built and the law he was sworn to.
Night stretched. Outside, the wind pushed against the walls. Far off, other packs moved like quiet fires. Kael thought about the moment he had turned away from Selene, the bigger choice that had cost them. He thought about how pride had been his law and now tasted like ash.
Selene watched him. "They will want a test," she said. "They will make him prove he is not shame."
Kael felt anger rise at the idea that a child might be forced to hurt to prove loyalty. "Then they will learn to be better," he said.
She laughed, small and bitter. "You think words fix men?"
"No," Kael said. "But action does. I will protect him."
He reached and took her hand over Rowan's shoulder. Her fingers were warm. For a moment their touch steadied him, the way it had when they were young and the world had not yet cracked.
Ronan kept watch near the door. He had been quiet all night. "Scouts report movement on the ridge," he said. "Not many, but steady. Could be Varek."
Kael felt his chest tighten. Varek was patient and cruel. He used fear like a blade. "Arm yourselves," Kael said. "Lyra, get the herbs. Thorne, call the guard."
Rowan trembled under Selene's chin. "Will they take me?" he asked in a whisper.
"No," Selene said. "I won't let them."
Kael's voice was the one the pack answered. "If they come, we stand. We will not give him up."
They moved to prepare. Lyra set jars by the fire. Thorne checked the latch. Ronan readied a few quiet men. Outside the hut the night held its breath, waiting for the ragged sound of boots or the soft pad of a shadow moving in the trees.
Kael thought of Mara and the council. He imagined her eyes, cold and sure. He imagined how she would turn a child's name into a sentence. The thought made the back of his neck prickle.
He had choices. He could hide the boy and hope Varek passed. He could bring Rowan into the pack where tests and knives waited. He could fight Varek head-on and risk civil strife in his own land.
His pride wanted him to stand tall and claim; his heart wanted the small safety of the outer hold to last forever. Neither would be enough.
A sudden knock hit the door like a fist. It made the room jump and the fire flare. Lyra froze. Thorne's hand went to his staff.
A voice called through the wood, loud and clear. "Alpha Kael Stormfang! Open your door. We bring word and offer. We are not enemies."
The words were smooth like river stones. Kael's spine went cold. Varek would not knock with smooth words. Someone meant to trick them or test them. Kael stepped forward, hand on the door latch, and felt the weight of the night press in.
He could open and risk a lie. He could refuse and mark himself as threat. He could go out alone and meet whatever came.
Selene tightened around the boy. Her breath hitched. Rowan's small fingers dug into her sleeve.
Kael looked at the faces around him—Lyra, Thorne, Ronan—and then at Selene and the child. He felt a fierce heat that had nothing to do with the fire. It was the kind of heat that made men move without thinking.
He opened the door a little.
Outside, the moon showed shapes lined like patience. Faces stepped into the light, folded in cloaks, eyes like knives. The first voice said, with a calm that did not reach his mouth, "Alpha Kael Stormfang, we come with terms."
He tasted metal and old grief. Whatever terms they offered, they would not leave without drawing blood or demanding a debt in return.