Chapter 1553: The First to Leave
The young werewolf who had approached Steve with that question was one of the more recently rescued ones. He had only been in the camp for about a month, still learning how things worked, still adjusting to the way the pack lived. From the start, Steve had noticed his curiosity. The newcomer spent much of his time asking the others about their pasts, whether any of them had ever lived with the Redwing Kingdom, whether they knew what life was like there among humans.
So Steve wasnât surprised when the question finally came to him. The curiosity wasnât just in this one wolf, it had been brewing among several of the new arrivals. They whispered about the Redwing pack at night, comparing rumors to dreams. Still, Steve didnât sense any malice in the young wolfâs tone. There was no resentment or rebellion in his eyes, just honest longing.
And perhaps that was why Steve didnât take offense. He understood. In truth, there was no reason for him to. The Redwing Kingdom was not a stranger to him, it was led by his own brother, Jack.
âIs there an issue with the current pack?â Steve asked, his voice steady but not accusing.
The werewolf shook his head quickly. âItâs not that,â he said, his tone soft, almost apologetic. âFor me⊠itâs a little different. I used to live among humans before all this. They were my family, they treated me kindly. But our town was raided by bandits, and when they found out what I was, they captured me. Enslaved me.â
He hesitated, eyes dimming with old pain. âEven then, I was never a werewolf used for fighting. I hardly ever transformed at all. Living like this, training, hunting, fighting, itâs difficult for me. I donât hate it here, Iâm grateful for being saved⊠but I canât help wondering what it would be like to live with those from the Redwing Kingdom. Iâve heard they live among humans there, that theyâre accepted by them. I just wanted to see both sides for myself before deciding where I truly belong.â
Steve nodded slowly, understanding every word. He had expected this day to come eventually. As their group continued to grow, and more rescued werewolves arrived, it was inevitable that some would question where they fit in. The Redwing Kingdom had become famous across the land, a symbol of coexistence between humans and werewolves. Their name carried weight and hope.
By contrast, Roganâs pack was still hidden in the mountains, unknown to most of the world. They were shadows, rescuers, survivors, ghosts. The Redwing pack had reputation and recognition; Roganâs had secrecy and safety.
The real problem was that Rogan treated every werewolf who joined his camp as part of the family. Once a rescued werewolf was accepted, they became a member of his pack, an Omega under his leadership turning into a beta. And leaving the pack wasnât simple. Anyone who wanted to go had to ask Rogan personally to be dismissed, to have their bond cut so they could join another pack.
âRogan let me leave once before,â Steve thought, folding his arms as he listened to the younger wolfâs plea. âSo it should be fine this time too⊠right?â
Things were different now, though. A year had passed since Steve began leading rescue missions and helping expand the camp. The relationship between him and Rogan had grown stronger during that time. They werenât just Alpha and subordinate anymore, they were friends. Steve had earned Roganâs respect, and in turn, Rogan had become someone Steve could talk to openly.
Maybe that was why the young wolf had chosen him as the one to ask. Steve and his group were the ones who had rescued him, after all. Perhaps he thought Steve could make the conversation easier.
âIâll see what I can do,â Steve said at last, his tone gentle but cautious. âI canât make any promises, but Iâll talk to him.â
Later that evening, Steve went to meet Rogan in his stone-built dwelling. He explained what the young wolf had asked, though he avoided mentioning any names at first. He wanted an honest reaction, one not influenced by who the request came from.
Rogan listened silently, his expression unreadable. Then, after a long pause, he leaned back in his chair. âIf a werewolf feels uncomfortable in the pack,â Rogan said, âthen they will continue to feel uncomfortable no matter what we say. Forcing them to stay wonât change that.â
Steve stayed quiet, waiting for more.
Roganâs gaze shifted toward the fire burning in the center of the room. âStill, if they keep talking about the Redwing pack, it might influence others. I donât want my wolves thinking they can just move back and forth between packs like changing homes. Weâre not a waystation, weâre a family. I want everyone here to understand that.â
He paused, then sighed. âBut with all that said, if thatâs truly what they wish, then so be it. They can leave.â
It was a fair answer, perhaps kinder than Steve expected. Rogan had always been firm but just. Steve nodded in agreement, quietly thankful that it hadnât turned into a conflict.
When he returned to the young werewolf, he gave him the news. âRoganâs agreed,â Steve said with a small smile. âYouâre free to go.â
The boyâs eyes brightened immediately, relief washing over his face. Rogan followed through on his promise the next day, releasing the werewolf from the pack and officially marking him as an Omega.
As the sun rose over the mountains, the young wolf stood at the edge of camp, saying his goodbyes. A few others gathered to see him off. Steve watched quietly as the boy disappeared into the forest trail, his figure shrinking until it was gone.
It ended more peacefully than Steve had feared. There was no tension, no argument, just an understanding. The rest of the pack went about their duties as usual, and life returned to normal.
Days passed. Steve continued leading missions, gathering supplies, helping the smiths, and training younger wolves. But the thought lingered in the back of his mind.
One afternoon, while Steve was helping organize a supply run, three werewolves who had been part of the pack for quite some time approached him together. Their expressions were uneasy, their movements hesitant, but their message was clear. They wanted to leave too.
And as if that wasnât enough, one of the five wolves they had recently rescued came to him the very next day with the same request.
Four more.
All of them came directly to Steve, none dared to go to Rogan themselves. They trusted him to speak on their behalf, maybe believing his connection with the Alpha would make things smoother.
But for Steve, it wasnât that simple anymore. One was understandable, an isolated case. But now, a pattern was forming. A quiet chain reaction.
He stood outside that night, staring at the moon as it glowed over the mountain peaks. The packâs howls echoed faintly in the distance, but even those familiar sounds felt heavier now.
âHow do I bring this up to him again?â Steve muttered to himself.
Rogan was reasonable, yes, but he was also proud. Too many requests like this might make him question his leadership, or worse, see Steveâs involvement as the root of the unrest.
Steve clenched his fists, his breath forming small clouds in the cold night air. âOne was fine,â he whispered. âBut if this keeps happening⊠how will Rogan react then?â
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