Chapter Eight: Echoes Of Guilt

The night was merciless.

Sleep never came.

Sebastian sat at the edge of his bed, shoulders hunched forward, the cold touch of moonlight spilling through the tall windows and painting him in silver. His eyes fixed on the faint glow pulsing from his chest. The mark burned into his skin, branded into his soul.

His jaw tightened. He pressed a palm against it, willing it to stop, to fade, to disappear.

“Glowing again,” he muttered bitterly. His lips twisted into a humorless smirk, but it vanished almost as quickly as it came. The mark mocked him. Each flicker was a cruel reminder of the night he wanted erased.

The night he had lost control.

The night he had ruined everything.

Inside, his wolf stirred sharp, restless, unrelenting.

You’re unsettled because you’re running from it.

Sebastian’s head snapped up. He clenched his teeth. “I’m not running,” he growled under his breath, his voice hoarse with self-loathing.

But the wolf’s voice only pressed harder.

You are. You’ve faced kings on the training fields. You’ve endured pain no other wolf could survive. And yet… you can’t even face the guilt of hurting your own blood.

Sebastian’s chest constricted, each word sinking deeper than any blade. His thoughts flicked back, unbidden, to the faces of those he loved most. His mother her warm, searching eyes when he had snapped at her, shutting her out. Caius the frozen silence on his best friend’s face when Sebastian’s cruel words had cut him.

The memory left a sour taste in his mouth. His voice cracked, quiet, almost pleading. “I didn’t mean it. They didn’t deserve it.”

Then stop hiding behind your pride. Stop bleeding your guilt onto the people who care for you most.

The wolf’s tone was firm, merciless, the voice that never coddled, never softened, never lied.

Sebastian buried his face in his hands, breath trembling. His heart pounded in his ears. For a long time, he sat there, fighting the war within himself. Finally, in a ragged whisper, he said, “You’re right. Tomorrow… I’ll start with Caius.”

The gym was alive with noise.

The heavy thud of fists striking leather. The clash of steel against steel. The guttural grunts of warriors pushing their limits.

Sebastian stood at the edge of the room, watching as Caius moved like fire through the sparring circle. Shirtless, sweat dripping down his toned chest, he fought two warriors at once ducking, blocking, and striking with a grin that lit up the entire space. His laughter rang loud even under the strain, mocking his opponents, daring them to try harder.

Caius had always been like that. Fearless. Playful. Impossible to break.

But tonight, as Sebastian watched, he saw something different. Something smaller, harder to notice. The quick flick of Caius’s eyes toward him, just once. The way they darted away again, too fast, too careful. Guarded.

Sebastian swallowed, his throat dry. He took a step forward. Then another. Finally, he forced the words out.

“Hey, buddy.”

The words echoed awkwardly across the gym.

Caius froze mid-motion, almost catching a fist to his ribs before shoving his sparring partner away. He turned slowly, sweat dripping down his temple, brows furrowed as if he had misheard. “Did I just hear you call me buddy?”

The surprise in his voice almost made Sebastian laugh. Almost.

Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck, his usual confidence nowhere to be found. “Yeah… I guess you did.”

Caius tilted his head, eyes narrowing. His lips twitched into the faintest smirk. “You’re not dying, are you? Because my stone-cold friend suddenly greeting me like a normal wolf is… kind of alarming.”

Sebastian’s shoulders sagged. He exhaled heavily, the weight of his pride falling with the breath. “I came to apologize.”

The words silenced the room more effectively than any punch.

For a moment, Caius just stared. His mouth opened, then shut again. He placed his hands on his hips, blinking as if trying to process what he’d just heard. “Now I know you’re dying.”

“I mean it,” Sebastian said, voice low but firm. “I wasn’t proud of how I spoke to you. Or to my mother. My wolf hasn’t stopped chewing me out for it either.”

Because you deserved it, his wolf growled from within.

Caius’s expression shifted. The smirk faded, replaced by something softer, something older. His voice dropped. “Bastian…”

The nickname hit harder than a strike to the chest. It had been years since Caius had called him that. Years since he had allowed anyone close enough to use it.

For a long moment, Sebastian couldn’t speak. He just stood there, trying to swallow the lump rising in his throat.

Finally, he exhaled shakily. “There’s something I need to tell you. But if I do… you swear you won’t breathe a word to anyone. Not even my parents.”

Caius crossed his arms, curiosity glinting in his amber eyes. His voice was steady. “You’ve got my word. Spill it.”

Sebastian hesitated. His muscles tensed as if preparing for battle. The wolf’s voice came again, softer this time:

He’s your brother in everything but blood. Trust him.

So he did.

At first, the words were halting, dragged out like broken glass. But then the dam cracked, and everything poured out. The cursed night in the forest. The mark glowing like fire. The shame that gnawed at him every time he caught his reflection in the mirror. The way the bond chained him to the girl he had scarred.

He bared it all.

By the time he finished, silence stretched between them like a canyon.

Caius blinked. Then blinked again. His jaw dropped, then closed, then dropped again. “Wait. You’re telling me that happened? To you?”

Sebastian nodded stiffly, his throat dry.

“Show me,” Caius demanded.

Sebastian frowned. “What?”

“The mark. Show me.”

With a resigned sigh, Sebastian tugged his shirt over his head. The torchlight hit the crest etched into his chest, faintly pulsing with its unnatural glow.

Caius’s eyes widened. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Holy Moon…” He reached out as if to touch it, then hesitated, pulling his hand back. “You weren’t kidding.”

“No,” Sebastian said bitterly. “I wasn’t.”

Caius let out a long breath, dragging his hand through his damp hair. “Damn it, Bastian. No wonder you’ve been so twisted up.” He shook his head, then gave a crooked grin. “But listen whatever this is, whatever happened it doesn’t make me any less your brother.”

Sebastian’s chest loosened for the first time in days. His throat tightened again, but this time not with guilt with something dangerously close to relief. “Thank you.”

Together, they left the gym, the silence between them no longer hostile, but heavy with understanding.

After a while, Caius broke it with his usual bluntness. “So… what’s your plan? Hide in the palace forever?”

Sebastian smirked faintly. “Not exactly.”

That evening, he approached his parents.

Queen Seraphina sat with her embroidery, her delicate fingers weaving golden thread through cloth. She looked up, startled, when Sebastian bent down and wrapped his arms around her.

Her body stiffened instantly her son hadn’t hugged her in years but slowly, she melted into the embrace, her hands clutching his back desperately.

King Aldric watched from his seat, his steel-gray eyes narrowing in curiosity.

“Father,” Sebastian said as he straightened, his voice steady but careful. “I would like to speak with you.”

“I’m listening,” Aldric replied, leaning forward slightly, suspicion flickering in his gaze.

Sebastian drew in a deep breath. “Since I’ll be taking the throne soon, I want to begin visiting the other packs myself. Learn who they are. Strengthen bonds. After all, no one knows who I truly am not with my… unique scent.”

The sarcasm in his tone was sharp, but Aldric only grunted thoughtfully.

“You wish to begin your duties,” the king said. “That is wise.”

Seraphina’s eyes shimmered with pride. “Yes, my son. And perhaps you might also use this chance to search for your mate.”

Sebastian forced a smile. “I will, Mother.”

Inside, his wolf barked a humorless laugh.

If only she knew our real plan.

Two days later, the journey began.

They traveled from pack to pack, Caius ever the lively companion. He joked, teased, and filled the silences Sebastian couldn’t. He made light of hostile glares, mocked arrogant Alphas, and dragged laughter out of Sebastian when he least expected it.

Some packs welcomed Sebastian with open arms, bowing deeply, honored to be visited by a royal wolf even one who carried the strange taint of humanity. Others sneered behind false smiles, their whispers sharp as blades, muttering about his scent as though it were a curse.

Each time, Caius scoffed. “If only they knew who you really were, huh?”

“Let them wonder,” Sebastian said. His voice was calm, but his wolf stirred uneasily, restless.

Weeks passed. Maps filled with markings of every place they had visited. Piece by piece, alliances formed. Piece by piece, the kingdom bent closer to the hands of the prince who bore both power and shame.

At last, only two packs remained.

Caius spread the map across a wooden table, tapping his finger against a name inked in bold. “Silverfang. Even the name sounds legendary.” His grin widened. “Let’s save the best for last.”

Sebastian studied the name, his chest tightening. The ink seemed to burn into his eyes. A strange pull tugged at his chest, and the crest on his skin thrummed faintly in response.

Silverfang.

He didn’t know why, but deep inside, his wolf whispered:

That’s where everything changes.