180

180
We were led deeper into the forest, where a rough hidden camp had been built.

The old wolf, still limping heavily, gestured around as he spoke. “From a distance, something about you felt familiar,” he said, nodding toward Rowan and Cassius.

Nearby, the younger wolves watched us closely. Most of them looked barely grown, no older than their late teens or early twenties. Only two among them carried any real authority the injured elder and Artemis, who was still young herself.

“My name is Hank,” the old one said. “We used to be called Dawn Chaser.”

A girl’s voice cut in before he could continue.

“That name doesn’t exist anymore. We’re the Bloody Dawn pack now.”

I turned to see a young woman standing behind us, already dressed in human form. She looked around nineteen, with dark braided hair and steady eyes that held too much experience for her age.

“Some of us prefer the old name,” Hank muttered.

“Dawn Chaser… I’ve heard that before,” I said quietly.

Cassius gave a short nod. “They once escaped Denraider. But later, another pack destroyed them. The leaders were killed and the rest were taken.”

Memory clicked into place. I had overheard stories about them long ago back when everything had started falling apart for us too.

Artemis’ jaw tightened. “Not all of us were lost,” she said coldly.

Hank gave a slow nod. “The Howling Evergreen helped when they could. We don’t blame them.”

I looked closer at him then.

His condition wasn’t natural. The damage on his body looked deliberate, cruel, and repeated punishment. Even shifting between forms hadn’t healed him properly. Someone had kept breaking him before he could recover.

A heaviness settled in my chest.

Cassius finally spoke, glancing toward Rowan. “Tell us what you know about Selena’s kind. In return, we’ll deal with your rogue problem.”

Hank studied me again. “Selena… whoever named you understood what you are.”

I met his gaze. “Maybe.”

Then I added, “My own pack was destroyed by Denraider too. I was never returned to them.”

A sharp vow followed instantly. “One day, Denraider will pay for everything.”

The younger wolves nodded in agreement, fists tightening at their sides.

Hank, however, only watched me.

“Truth, legend… it’s hard to tell the difference with your kind,” he said at last. “Still, I accept your deal.”

A faint smirk crossed his worn face. “Forgive me for not shaking your hand.” He lifted his ruined limb slightly, irony clear in his voice.

Artemis let out a tired breath, like she had heard that kind of comment from him too many times to count.

“Gramps…” she muttered, half amused, half annoyed.

Then she turned to me with a playful look. “Don’t mind him. He would’ve talked your ear off anyway. He always says no one here listens to him.”

Hank scoffed lightly, though his eyes softened. “Try being the only one with sense in a pack full of stubborn youngsters.”

His tone was rough, but there was obvious affection behind it.

That was when I noticed something I hadn’t paid attention to before.

Every wolf here had the same marking a rising sun behind mountains, carved over the bite mark on their wrists. The younger ones had an extra symbol beneath it, darker, like dripping blood forming the dawn. Bloody Dawn.

Hank continued, “Artemis will guide you from here. I haven’t seen the rogue myself; he moves too quickly.”

“I’ll take you to where I last saw him,” Artemis said, looking at Rowan.

Before I could stop it, a low sound tore out of my throat.

She was young. Female. That alone made my instincts flare.

Artemis blinked at me, then shifted her attention. “Right… if that one is your mate, I could just ”

Another growl cut her off.

Hank chuckled deeply. “An Odinswolf in heat doesn’t like sharing, girl. Best take her along with you.”

My chest tightened, and I forced myself to breathe.

I placed my hand gently on Rowan’s head, grounding myself, then leaned closer.

“We haven’t marked each other yet,” I said quietly, “but he’s mine.”

Cassius’ voice followed, steady and reassuring. “He won’t forget that. I’m staying with you.”

I looked between them. “The full moon passed last night… and we ran together for the first time. I know she’s not trying to take him, but it still doesn’t feel right.”

Rowan gave a short, dismissive huff, like the idea was ridiculous.

Artemis nodded. “I’ll stay in human form while he stays in wolf form. That should help.”

I agreed silently, remembering how often Rowan had stayed shifted around me in the beginning. Maybe it had been intentional.

Soon after, Artemis led Rowan deeper into the forest.

“He came through here earlier,” she explained. “Took some supplies and vanished. I’ll show you where so you can track him.”

I suspected Rowan already knew the scent, but I stayed quiet. If we failed today… would we end up returning again and again? The thought lingered heavily.

Cassius’ voice pulled me back.

“How do you know so much about her?” he asked Hank.

Most of the younger wolves had already followed Artemis and Rowan, leaving only a few behind near us. Some moved in and out of a large rough-built tent nearby.

Hank leaned slightly on his broken arm as he spoke. “Long ago, Odinswolves weren’t so rare. They lived among other packs, though many kept to themselves. Even then, their numbers were already falling.”

He gestured between Cassius and himself.

“Those of us with different bloodlines didn’t like how Odinswolves gathered mates. Taking more than one wasn’t well accepted. Packs challenged them… hunted them… wiped them out when they could.”

He paused.

“They shifted late compared to others. That made them easy targets. Young ones couldn’t defend themselves, and by the time they were strong enough, many were already gone.”

A chill ran through me.

“How many kinds of wolves are there?” I asked quietly.

Hank shrugged. “At least a few major bloodlines around here. But in truth, we all trace back to the same roots. Moonbloods like your mate tended to stay out of it.”

He nodded toward Cassius.

“My line? We were called Lokiswolves. Odinswolves believed they came from Odin’s wolves. Some of us believed we came from Fenrir’s bloodline instead… or from those tied to the end stories Hati and Skoll.”

The names stirred something familiar in my memory.

“Wolves said to swallow the sun and moon,” I murmured.

Hank gave a slow nod. “That’s the tale.”

I frowned. “So my kind always shifts late?”

“That’s right,” he said simply. “And that’s why you were easy to hunt.”

Then, after a pause, his expression softened into something almost respectful.

“But you’re still standing. That alone says enough.”

His broken smile showed missing teeth, his ruined limbs telling a story he didn’t need to say out loud. Whatever he had endured… it hadn’t broken him completely.