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Chapter 17: Shadowed Rescue
Last Updated:
2025-11-05 11:20:10
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Don't Go, I Regret Chapter 20: New Dawn
The bell rang once—clear, high, and full of promise.Grace stood at the center of Ironclaw’s courtyard, surrounded by banners of twin wolves beneath a rising sun. Children laughed as they poured through the gates of Johnson’s Haven, their arms full of books and lanterns.Aldric joined her on the steps. “They’re early.”“They’re excited,” Grace said with a smile. “It’s their first day.”He nodded toward the new mural painted across the academy’s arch. “You approved that?”The painting showed two wolves—one silver, one tawny—standing beneath a flowering dogwood.Grace’s gaze lingered on it. “It’s not just about who we were. It’s about what we became.”A voice called from the crowd. “Luna Grace!”She turned as a small pup ran up, holding a handmade flower crown.“Miss Tora said we should thank the one who made this school,” the girl said breathlessly. “So… thank you.”Grace knelt, accepting the crown with a steady hand. “No, little one. Thank you—for filling
Don't Go, I Regret Chapter 19: Bridges of Hope
The map of Cultrion stretched across Grace’s desk, corners held down by smooth stones and ink wells. Her finger traced routes between territories once divided by blood and suspicion.Aldric leaned over her shoulder. “You’re planning to visit them all?”Grace nodded. “Frostpeak, Riverbend, Dawncrest. We’ve rebuilt Ironclaw. It’s time we rebuild trust.”“You want a treaty?”“I want a future.”He glanced at the long list of appointments. “You’ll be gone for weeks.”“Then we better start now.”---The diplomatic tour began with Frostpeak.Grace stood beneath their icy spires, face-to-face with the war orphans she once rescued. She knelt and tied a child’s broken boot, murmuring, “You’ll run faster now.”Later, she shared bread with the local Luna. They signed an apprenticeship accord—Ironclaw healers would train Frostpeak’s pups in exchange for stoneworkers to rebuild Ironclaw’s collapsed eastern wall.In Riverbend, she sat beneath flowering branches, media
Don't Go, I Regret Chapter 18: Lanterns Ascend
The Moon Festival returned to Ironclaw for the first time in four years.Children raced through the courtyard with paper lanterns shaped like wolves and stars. Merchants spilled into the plaza. The forge burned hot, music floated from the hall, and laughter—real, unbroken laughter—rose like dawn from stone.Grace stood atop the watchtower, lantern in hand, dressed in deep blue robes stitched with silver thread.Aldric appeared at her side, breathless. “The courtyard’s full. Some say we’ll run out of wine before midnight.”“Let them drink it all,” Grace said softly. “They’ve earned it.”He nodded, then gestured to the lantern in her hands. “You’re going to say something, aren’t you?”“I have to.”He hesitated. “Will you mention him?”“I have to,” she repeated.Aldric stepped back, leaving her alone beneath the open sky.---She descended the stairs and stepped onto the stone platform in the center of the square. The crowd hushed as she lifted the lantern
Don't Go, I Regret Chapter 17: Shadowed Rescue
The valley was quiet—too quiet.Grace stepped from the caravan’s lead wagon, sword drawn, the smell of ash and old sickness heavy in the air. Behind her, a line of healers carried crates of herbs and medicine for the plague-struck hamlet.“Why aren’t there any guards?” Aldric muttered, scanning the tree line.“Something’s wrong,” Grace said.Then came the whistle.A sharp, slicing sound.Arrows tore through the canvas, one grazing her shoulder.“Ambush!” Aldric roared.Bandits poured from the woods, teeth bared, blades drawn. Grace moved fast, pushing a healer behind a wagon and drawing her sword with one smooth motion.“Weapons up!” she shouted.Ironclaw’s guards rallied, but they were outnumbered. Three-to-one, maybe more.Steel clashed. Horses screamed. Grace spun and parried, slicing a bandit across the thigh before ducking behind an overturned crate.“This is a trap!” Aldric shouted. “They knew we were coming!”Grace stabbed upward as another
Don't Go, I Regret Chapter 16: Howl on the Wind
The snow came early.By mid-morning, Ironclaw’s ridges were whitewashed, wind howling through the gaps in the outer wall. Grace stood by the gate, watching supplies get loaded onto a cart bound for the frostline villages.A horn sounded once—short and sharp.Moments later, a bloodied scout stumbled through the snow, one arm bandaged hastily with bark and twine.Grace rushed to him. “What happened?”He collapsed to his knees. “Attack. Ice trolls on the northern pass.”Aldric appeared at her side. “The trolls haven’t crossed in two years.”“They have now,” the scout gasped. “Would’ve torn me apart, but—”“But what?” Grace asked.The scout looked up. “A wolf saved me. Tawny. Scarred. He drove them off alone. Then dragged me three miles through the ice.”Aldric’s jaw tightened. “He said his name?”“No. Just left this.”The scout reached into his torn cloak and pulled out a pendant—dented, cracked.The moon-crest.Grace froze.The metal was still
Don't Go, I Regret Chapter 15: New Laws, Old Wounds
Grace stood before the council chamber, sleeves rolled up, hands ink-stained.“The first edict,” she said, laying a parchment on the table, “bans the use of thrall collars across all Ironclaw lands. From now on, justice is not humiliation.”Elder Merton nodded. “Agreed.”“The second—” she paused, lifting another scroll, “—converts the west armory into a free school for pups orphaned by war. We'll name it Haven House. In Johnson’s honor.”A murmur rippled through the room. Aldric’s voice was quiet. “He would’ve liked that.”Grace didn’t look up. “He deserved it.”She moved to the third scroll. “Restorative justice councils will replace the old punishment tribunal. No more public lashings. No more exile without mediation.”A younger councilor frowned. “Some offenses—”“Still merit consequence,” Grace said firmly. “But not spectacle.”Silence.Then Elder Merton gave a slow nod. “So be it.”---Later, in the courtyard, Grace passed by the smithy. The mel
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