The air in the room is heavy, as if the walls themselves are braced for what’s about to be said. I stare at Octavius, weighing my options. His icy blue eyes are unrelenting, fixed on me with a mix of curiosity and something I can’t quite name. Trust, maybe? Or suspicion. It doesn’t matter. I can feel the weight of his question pressing against my chest like a vice. Tell me the truth about the pack you come from. There’s no escape from this moment, no clever deflection that will buy me time. He’s already too close to figuring it out. “The Xarano Pack,” I finally say, my voice quieter than I intended. Octavius straightens slightly, the name lingering in the air between us like a ghost. “What?” he asks, his tone sharp but unreadable. I don’t answer, letting the silence fill the space. “The Xarano Pack was massacred,” he says slowly, as if testing the words on his tongue, tasting their bitterness. His steps are deliberate as he moves closer to me. “Yes… they were,” I reply,
"Lucien killed my father," Octavius says, his tone flat but deadly. His eyes pierce into mine, icy and distant, and for the first time since I've been here, I can feel his grief, buried beneath all that cold control."I'm sorry," I reply after a beat, my voice steady, though I don't know why I bother saying it. Doesn’t seem like he’ll care anyway."Do you really mean that?" he shoots back, his words sharp, flipping my earlier retort back at me.I can't help the small scoff that escapes me, but I nod a few times in confirmation, my gaze holding his as I step closer to him. "Yes... I do."His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn't say anything. It's like he's sifting through a million thoughts, trying to figure out which one to give voice to, until finally, he answers."We've been hunting Lucien ever since he turned on us," Octavius finally says, his voice rough, every word slow and controlled. "But he's sneaky. Very sneaky.""We have a common enemy," I tell him, my tone softer now.
"I will find Lucien with or without your help," I say, my voice cold as I stare up at him, my eyes flashing between his blue one."And I'll make him suffer for destroying my family." Octavius stiffens, his icy blue eyes narrowing as he takes a deliberate step closer. His presence is suffocating, but I hold my ground, meeting his gaze head-on. "Going alone is the stupidest thing you can do," he says, his voice low, dangerous as he looks down at me and for some reason, a chill runs through my body as he speaks to me. But despite how he's making me feel, I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. "It's better than sitting here doing nothing." His jaw tightens, and for a moment, I think he's going to argue, but then he exhales sharply, the sound more frustration than defeat. "Fine," he says, his tone measured. "We'll work together to stop him." I blink, caught off guard by his sudden shift as I raise my eyebrows at him right before I get a hold of myself, not wanting to look too
The halls of the packhouse feel quieter now, the distant hum of voices and footsteps a faint backdrop as I make my way through them. It’s strange, wandering here free without having to worry about being thrown into a grimy cell. That doesn't stop the way the wolves I pass by glance at me—some quickly avert their eyes as if looking too long will provoke me, while others don’t bother hiding their blatant stares. They’re suspicious, of course. The rogue who’s somehow walking free in their territory...Guess I have Octavius to thank for the protection or, essentially putting a target on my back. I mean what better way to make every hate you, or give them one more reason to do so?I huff as I keep my face impassive, my chin high, ignoring them all. Let them look. Let them judge. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m here, alive, while so many of their so-called warriors couldn’t hold a candle to me. Still, I can’t shake the strange sensation creeping along my spine. It’s not fear—it’s nev
We all stare at Audrey, all of being able to see how nervous she is to have walked into the kitchen. I step forward, keeping my arms crossed as I analyse her, now recalling the way I snapped at her earlier, and how she didn't deserve any of that, especially when she was just trying to be friendly."Hey Audrey," I reply, my tone softer than usual, hoping that it makes her relax and makes her see that I'm not hostile.She hesitates for a moment, her hands fidgeting with the book in her hand as she hesitantly she steps further into the room. I can feel the others watching us, their curiosity almost tangible and I'm sure they're wondering why she is so nervous around me."I'm sorry if I interrupted your discussion... I just wanted to..." Audrey starts, clearly terrified, her voice trembling slightly.Before she can finish, I step forward, meeting her gaze directly. "Audrey," I say, my voice firm but not unkind..."I'm sorry." I finally say, allowing my shoulders to relax as I let out a de
I shrug, stepping closer despite the warning in her glare. "Following your scent. Thought I'd see what had you storming out of the kitchen like that...""Well, you've seen enough," she says, wiping her face angrily. "Go away." she then points in the direction I came from, but even as she tries to command me, her voice breaks and her eyebrows crease. I can tell she is struggling to fight back the pain she is feeling...As so I don't move. She growls softly, her wolf rippling just beneath the surface. "I mean it, rogue. Leave." She orders.But I don't. Instead, I walk forward, leaning back against a tree and continue to watch her with a solemn expression."What are you doing?" she asks sharply, her voice cracking slightly as she shakes her head at me."Not leaving," I reply simply, shrugging right before letting my shoulders relax.Her glare deepens, but there's no real heat behind it. She looks more tired than anything,
The packhouse is dead quiet now except for the faint echoes of my footsteps as I wander through the endless, polished hallways. After my conversation with Miyuki, I feel like her and I have reached a level of understanding and at least going forward things, I hope that things will be civil between us. I hate how pristine everything looks. Perfect walls, perfect floors, perfect furniture. It screams control, order, and everything I've avoided for years. But now, I'm stuck in it, suffocating under the weight of their stares and whispers. The wolves I pass don't bother hiding their glances. Some look at me like I'm about to explode, their unease clear as they step aside to let me pass. Others—bolder ones—stare openly, their expressions a mix of suspicion and disgust. It doesn't matter. Let them look. Let them think whatever the hell they want. But boredom is gnawing at me like an itch I can't scratch. I've walked these halls for what feels like hours, trying to find something—a
"Octavius…” I try to say firmly but instead, my voice comes out quiet and weak and I hate that he’s doing this, making me feel things I don’t want to feel…He keeps his head by my neck but doesn’t do anything, his breath continues to fan against my next. His grip on my waist tightens for just a moment, like he's debating whether to listen. He then pulls away and looks me in the eye, his icy blue eyes bore into mine, his face impossibly close. My wolf stirs again, clawing at the walls of my mind, eager to close the space between us."Octavius," I say more sharply this time, narrowing my eyes up at him just as I feel his fingers on my chin, delicately lifting my head up as he makes me look at him.“Tell me stop, Kaida…” he whispers to me and I look up at him, contemplating actually giving into temptation as soon as I hear the way my name rolls off his tongue, but soon I get a hold of myself and shut my eyes for a moment, breaking away from his gaze.”“Stop…” I say quietly, right before
K O R R AI wake watching the sun rise.Sleep doesn't come easy, not even now, not even when I'm finally in my own room, in my own packhouse. It's too quiet. The silence makes me itch. It leaves room for memory, and that's a dangerous place to linger.I sit on the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, eyes on the shadows crawling across the floorboards. My body aches in ways I can't quite explain. Some of it is physical—damage from captivity that still hasn't fully healed—but most of it lives in my bones. Deep. Carved into muscle memory.Eventually, I stand. I move slowly. I don't like rushing into the day anymore. That used to be Kaida's thing. She was always the first out the door, full of fire and recklessness. I used to pull her back. Now I feel like I'm dragging behind.I cross to the dresser and pull out clean clothes—black shirt, black pants, worn leather jacket. Perfect. At least there's something suitable for me to wear. afterwards I make my way into the shower, washing away t
K A I D AThe silence stretches between us, heavy but not uncomfortable, one where both of us are simply processing everything we’ve shared with each other. Korra hasn't sat down. She's still standing, probably still hearing the words I said—about Admosian, about Lucien, about bloodlines and wars we didn't ask to inherit. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, exhaling deeply as an unsettled frown rests on my face.The adrenaline is starting to wear off, and now I feel tired—not just in my body but deep down, in that place people call soul, though I don't think mine has ever had a chance to breathe."I have to head back now, I’m sure Octavius is worried about me…" I say quietly. Korra turns her head to look at me. No surprise in her face, just a flash of something softer as she exhales. Something close to disappointment, but not quite."Already?" she asks and perhaps she isn’t used to the fact that I won’t be living with her anymore. The two of us grew up close, with a fierce b
K A I D A“What?” I ask, voice low but sharp, like the word cuts on its way out. My heartbeat stutters, then kicks into overdrive. I blink hard. Once. Twice. Like that’ll clear the static building in my head. Like maybe I misheard her. Like maybe she didn’t just say what I think she said.Korra stays calm. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t back down. Her face is serious, grounded. No hesitation in her voice. “I know it sounds crazy… but believe me, it’s true.”I’m watching her carefully now. Reading the tension in her shoulders, the stillness in her stance. She’s not spitballing. She’s not guessing. She’s thought about this—probably over and over again, turning it around in her head until it made enough sense to say out loud.“We’ve been researching,” she continues. “Trying to figure out which of the bloodlines I came from. We came from.”That part catches in my chest.We.“We dug through what we could find—old records, pack stories, bloodline traits. Physical markers. Based on our features,
K A I D AKorra and I are sitting on the edge of the bed in the room they set up for her. She smells clean now—like herself. No more scent of blood, rusted iron, sweat. No more stink of captivity clinging to her skin like a curse. Her hair’s still damp, slicked back and tucked behind her ears. Her face is clearer too. Hollowed out, yeah, but clear. Her eyes... they’re finally awake.I’m still not used to this. Seeing her here. Alive.I glance over at her and my heart lurches in my chest, heavy and full and weirdly tight. She’s here. She’s really here.She nudges her elbow into mine, that little sister-sister thing we used to do when we were younger, before the world split open and swallowed us whole.“Tell me what happened to you now,” she says softly.I inhale, slow and deep, but it does nothing to ease the knot in my stomach. I feel like I’ve been waiting years for someone to ask me that. I also feel like I don’t want to say any of it out loud.But she deserves to know.“Well... It’
Korra sits on the edge of the bed, freshly showered, hair damp, skin free of the dirt and grime from that hellhole.She looks better.Not just physically, but in the way she carries herself now. Her shoulders are no longer hunched, her body no longer weighed down by chains—literal or otherwise.But there’s still something in her eyes.A ghost.Something Lucien left behind.I lean against the doorframe, crossing my arms over my chest. “Feeling better?”She lets out a slow breath, rolling her shoulders as if testing her body for weakness. “Yeah… a little like myself now.”That’s good.I don’t say it, though. I just nod.Silence stretches between us for a moment, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s the kind of silence that comes with understanding, with years of missing time trying to fill itself in all at once.Korra studies me, her eyes scanning my face like she’s trying to memorize it. Like she still can’t believe I’m standing here.“I can’t believe you’re alive,” she murmurs, shaking he
K A I D AThe drive back to Xarano territory is long and heavy with silence.Though Octavius was opposed to the idea, I managed to convince him to let me head back to the Xarano Pack with my sister. They needed to see that she is alive; they needed to know that both Xarano sisters have returned and are standing strong.I sit beside at the backseat of the car, Jace being the one to drive us while Valerie sits in the front seat. I haven't been able to let go of my sister's hand. Perhaps out of fear that if I somehow do, I will lose her again. But I'll be damned if that ever happens again. Her posture is tense, her gaze locked onto the rolling landscape ahead of us. She hasn’t spoken much since we left the ruins, and I don’t blame her.She’s processing. All of it. Being free. Being alive-- truly alive --and out of captivity, and seeing us all again, and finally coming.I glance at her, my chest tightening. Does she even remember this place as home? I stare down at her tattoos, admiring t
K A I D AKorra’s growl is cold and deadly, silencing the entire forest and everything in it. Everyone is on edge… Jace, Valerie, the others… but no one moves. No one dares to.Because we all feel it.The rage rolling off of her, thick and dangerous, her silver eyes glowing with barely restrained fury.She looks ready to kill him. Fear floods its way into my body. I knew my sister had always been dangerous. What more after all these years in captivity, what more that she is now a Lycan. Who knows the horrors she has been subjected to? Who knows what she’s seen? I no longer know what she is capable of doing, and so no matter what happens, I need to try and keep her calm.“Korra,” I say, carefully, taking a few steps towards her to try and enter her line of vision. “Please calm down…”She doesn’t look at me.She only stares at Octavius, her breathing slow for now but the longer she stares at him, the more it elevates. Her hands are clenched at her sides, shaking slightly as her body vi
K A I D A Kaida walks slowly, her arm wrapped firmly around Korra’s waist, supporting her sister’s weakened frame. So she seems physically strong, Kaida can pick up the faint scent of Wolfsbane off her, it was all over the cell as well and Kaida is certain Lucien had flooded the air with it to keep her abilities suppressed."Are you okay...?" Kaida asks worriedly, being sure to keep her sister steady and maintain her balance."I'm okay... I just need fresh air..." She answers, her voice hoarse as she lets out slow breaths.Korra is strong... stronger than her. Kaida has always known that, but right now, her body trembles with every step, her muscles struggling to carry her after years in captivity. Her once-powerful stance is reduced to unsteady footing, her breathing laboured.Still, she is here. She is alive.That’s all that matters.Kaida tightens her grip, feeling Korra lean into her slightly as they make their way toward the others. Her sister is unbroken, but she is not unscath
K A I D A I don’t stop running. My breath is sharp, my pulse erratic, my mind locked onto a single thought: She’s here. The scent is pulling me forward, leading me deeper into the ruins, past the crumbling stone and the echoes of battle still raging behind me. I know Octavius and the others are fighting, I know we haven’t won yet—but none of that matters right now. Because I can feel it. My sister. Somewhere in this hell, Korra is alive. A snarl rips through the air. Two wolves leap at me from the shadows, their eyes gleaming with bloodlust. I react on instinct. The first one lunges for my throat, but I’m faster. I drop low, twisting under him before grabbing his hind leg mid-air and swinging him into the ruins. His body crashes through the stone, debris collapsing over him. The second wolf is already coming for me. Teeth bared. Claws slashing. I meet him head-on, our bodies colliding in a brutal clash of muscle and rage. He’s strong. But I’m stronger. He slashes at my