Chapter 111: The Visitor

Chapter 111: The Visitor
Claire's POV

“There’s someone at the border,” said Rowan, his voice tense but curious. “He’s alone, but… there’s something off about him.”
I stood on the edge of the training field and watched the younger wolves fight each other in the afternoon. Their laughter filled the air like music. It was a sound we were used to hearing again after years of sadness and silence. Rowan's words made my heart tighten. I was still getting used to the idea of peace. With all the alliances Derek and I had worked so hard to make, a visitor at the border was not unusual these days. But Rowan's cautious and uncertain tone made me feel something.

He led me into the woods, and I brushed dirt off my hands as I said, "Show me."

The air was cool and crisp, and you could smell pine. It also smelled like rain. It seemed like the trees were hiding something when they whispered. We were getting close to the edge of Redwater's territory when I caught a strong but faint whiff of an unfamiliar scent. Not threatening, though. But with layers. Old leather-like in appearance. There were faint signs of blood, fear, and something else, like mystery itself, in the forest.

We came out into the open area, and I saw him.

A single figure stood just outside the line of territory. His coat was dark grey with a faint shimmer in the light, like he carried the moon’s reflection in his fur. He had shifted back to human form, his clothes torn and hanging off him like an afterthought. He didn’t speak, just stood there, his eyes locked on me.

I moved forward. "You are getting close to Redwater land." Say your name and what you want to do.

He did not answer right away. He looked from Rowan to me, then got down on one knee.

He finally said, "My name is Riven." His voice was hoarse and quiet. "I want to stay safe. There is nowhere else for me to go.

Rowan stood there and looked at me. I looked at Riven. Even though he looked young—maybe in his early 20s—his eyes told me he had lived a lot longer than he should have. On his arms and neck, he had scars. One ran along his collarbone like a rope burn. A tracker’s scar.

“Why Redwater?” I asked, keeping my voice firm.

He did not raise his head and said, "Because you are the only Alpha who fought for those who could not fight for themselves." "I know the stories."

I felt something shift inside me, a quiet reminder of what we had made here. Redwater was no longer just a pack. It was now a sign—a place where the hurt could heal and the lost could be found.

I gave one nod. "You will stay in the guest house next to where the healer lives." Rowan will lead you there. Do not go off on your own without a guide, and do not lie.

River finally looked up, and that is when I saw it for the first time: the same fire I had when I got to Redwater for the first time, scared and by myself.

He bowed his head. "Thank you, Moon."

Later that night, Derek and I sipped herbal tea on the porch of our cabin as the sun went down over Redwater. He had one arm around my shoulder, and the cool wind did not get to my bones because of his warmth.

"What did he say his name was?" Derek asked.

I gave him a nod and put my head on his shoulder. "He is young, but... broken." I believe he has not told us everything.

Derek's jaw got a little tighter. "I have seen eyes like his before." War-torn. He has something to hide.

And I whispered, "I know." "But he came to the right place no matter what it was."

The next morning, I watched Riven from a distance. He didn’t complain during training, didn’t talk unless spoken to. But I noticed how his ears twitched when others spoke of the Council or when the name Jared came up in passing. And once, I caught him watching the younger wolves train with a quiet intensity, like he was studying them, not just their movements, but their weaknesses.

In the afternoon, I went up to him directly. "Come with me."

We hiked through the woods, following the ridge trail that had a view of the valley below. He was quiet but alert.

I told her, "You have trained before." "You fight like you have been to war."

He looked at the trees. “I’ve fought in wars that were never mine. I ran from the last one.”

I studied his profile. “And now?”

He finally looked at me, the storm in his eyes barely contained. "I am running toward something now." I am not sure what it is yet, though.

The silence between us was long and full of things we did not say. I did not ask for more. Being ready for someone to tell their story was sometimes the best way to learn it.

But after three days, Rowan was banging on my door when I woke up.

Intruders got into the archives.

My heart jumped up and down my throat. "What did they take?"

He had a pale look. "The Shadow Treaty's sealed scrolls and the Council's list of bad enforcers."

My thoughts were going fast. I, Derek, and the Beta recordkeeper were the only ones who could get into that room. The door was enchanted, sealed by a blood key. It shouldn’t have been possible.

I quickly put on clothes and ran to the building for work. The scrolls were not there anymore. There was a lot of broken parchment on the shelves. They had only taken the most important papers. No signs that someone broke in. There is no scent trail.

One exception.

The faint trace of silver pine and ash.

Riven’s scent.

When I turned to Derek, who had just come in, my hands were shaking. "He took advantage of us." He came with a clear goal in mind.

Derek's face turned darker. "Then he is not just a runaway."

I skipped it. Suddenly, I changed my mind and ran through the woods, my heart beating like war drums. I followed the trail, cold and faint, through a hidden path near the old northern watchtower.

And then I saw it.

The writing is on the bark of a tree and is an old sign.

One that I had only seen once before.

The Shadowborn's mark.

Riven wasn’t just a deformed wolf.

He was born in the dark.

He now knew the most dangerous things about Redwater.

Staring at the deep carving of the symbol into the tree, I felt a sharp, familiar pain in my chest. In the distance, there was a howl that was not a warning or a cry for help, but a call. That sound is not something every wolf could make. I slowly turned, and every hair on my body stood on end.

From the mist stepped a figure cloaked in grey, eyes glowing faintly.

“You should’ve killed him when you had the chance, Luna Claire,” the voice rasped. "Now it all starts over."