The storm that had swallowed the city finally broke by dawn.
Rain washed through the cracked streets of Westpoint, rinsing away the smoke, the ash, and the blood. The air was cold, heavy with the scent of burnt steel and ozone — the aftermath of a war that should never have happened.
Selene stood on the rooftop of what was left of the relay tower. It leaned slightly now, its frame scorched and groaning, but it still held. From up there she could see the city stretching endlessly — broken, wounded, yet alive.
Her fingers brushed the silver pendant hanging around her neck. Kael's pendant. The one he'd given her the night before the Crimson Moon rose.
It was cracked now, the center crystal faintly pulsing as though it still remembered the heartbeat of its owner.
Behind her, footsteps crunched over gravel and twisted metal.
Tarin, one of the last surviving wolves of the Silver Fang, approached quietly. His face was cut and bruised, his once-golden eyes dulled by exhaustion.
"They're gathering at the old freight yard," he said. "Maybe twenty of us left. The rest…"
His voice trailed off.
Selene nodded slowly. "Lucien's machines are down. You made sure?"
"Every last one," Tarin said. "The blast fried their cores. City's gone dark, but… it's free."
She turned to face him, the wind tugging strands of silver-black hair across her face. "Free," she repeated, the word almost foreign. "We haven't been that in a long time."
Tarin studied her quietly for a moment. "He would've wanted you to lead us."
Her breath hitched. "Don't," she said softly. "Don't say his name yet."
They stood in silence for a while. The wind howled through the twisted frame of the tower, sounding eerily like a wolf's distant cry.
When she finally spoke again, her voice was steadier. "Get everyone together. We'll move at dusk. We can't stay here — the humans will come looking for answers."
Tarin nodded and started to leave, but paused. "Selene… he saved all of us. Whatever comes next, remember that."
She didn't answer, only turned back to the horizon as he disappeared down the stairwell.
---
That night, the pack gathered in the freight yard — a maze of rusted trains, flooded tracks, and fire barrels flickering in the dark. The air was thick with smoke and fatigue. Every face was hollow, but every heart still beat with something fierce — survival.
Selene stood on an overturned freight car, her silhouette outlined by the flames. She looked over the survivors — warriors, healers, children — the last of a lineage that had almost been erased.
Her voice carried through the cold night.
> "We lost brothers, sisters, friends. We lost our Alpha. But the Silver Fang still stands."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd — grief and pride, tangled together.
> "Lucien's empire burned," she continued, "but his shadow will rise again if we forget what he was trying to do. He wanted control. We fight for freedom. For balance. For Kael."
At the mention of his name, a low chorus of howls echoed into the night. The sound was raw — mourning, memory, defiance all at once.
Selene closed her eyes. For a second, she could almost feel him beside her — his warmth, his steady voice saying "Lead them, Selene. You're stronger than you think."
When she opened her eyes, a soft silver mist began to spread over the yard — moonlight breaking through torn clouds. The storm had passed completely now. The moon shone white again, no longer crimson.
She stepped down from the car, walking toward the edge of the tracks where the forest began.
Every instinct told her to move on — but something inside her refused to let go.
She reached into her coat and pulled out a small device — the last fragment of Lucien's relay tech. It flickered weakly, a dying heartbeat of energy. Kael had told her to destroy it. But now, as she turned it over in her palm, the faint pulse synchronized with the rhythm of the pendant at her chest.
Her breath caught. "Kael…?"
The pulse grew stronger — just for a second — before fading into silence again.
"Selene!" Tarin called from behind. "We're ready to move!"
She quickly tucked the device away and turned, masking the flicker of hope in her eyes. "Let's head for the north woods. We'll find shelter there."
The pack began to move, silent shadows disappearing into the mist.
---
Hours later, deep in the forest, they settled in a half-collapsed millhouse by the river. The smell of pine and wet earth filled the air. Wolves took turns standing guard while others patched wounds, shared food, or simply sat in silence.
Selene sat apart, beside the flowing river. The moon reflected on the surface, rippling with every drop of rain that still fell from the leaves.
Her mind wouldn't rest. Every heartbeat replayed that final moment — Kael's body going still, his hand falling away, the dawn swallowing his last breath.
But underneath the grief was something else. A whisper.
It wasn't memory. It was… connection.
The pendant against her chest warmed again. Faintly. Like the touch of sunlight through fog.
Her eyes widened. "Kael?" she breathed.
No answer. Only the rustle of trees.
Then, from somewhere deeper in the forest, came a sound — distant, haunting, unmistakable. A wolf's howl. Long and low, cutting through the night like an echo from another world.
Every wolf in the camp lifted their heads, ears twitching. Tarin looked at her, eyes wide. "You heard that, right?"
Selene rose slowly to her feet, staring toward the darkness beyond the trees. "Yeah," she whispered. "I did."
The howl came again, closer this time. Not a phantom. Not a dream.
Selene's heart raced. "It's him."
Tarin frowned. "It can't be. We buried—"
But before he could finish, the pendant around her neck flared — bright, alive, glowing like a shard of moonlight.
Selene smiled through tears. "The bond isn't broken."
She turned toward the woods, the light reflecting in her eyes like fire.
> "He's still out there."
The camera of the mind's eye would pull back then — the forest stretching for miles under a full silver moon, the faint figure of a massive wolf moving between the trees. Not a ghost. Not a memory. A survivor.
Kael Draven — the Silver Fang — still breathing, still hunting.