Chapter 1560: Shackled Beneath the Mountain

The werewolf camp had never needed a prison before. They were a community, not a kingdom, and their way of keeping order had always been through trust, strength, and respect. But as their numbers grew, disagreements had become inevitable.

There were always a few who couldn’t control their rage, wolves who believed every human deserved to die. Sometimes they would sneak into human towns, hunt for blood, and return to the mountain with crimson on their claws.

Rogan’s ideology had no room for that kind of violence. He wanted the camp to remain a refuge, a safe haven far away from both humans and the chaos of the outside world. If the humans ever learned where they were, if they traced one of the murderers back to this mountain, it could mean the end of everything.

So when those uncontrollable wolves refused to change, when they became too dangerous to reason with, Rogan dealt with them himself.

Steve had struggled with that rule at first. Killing their own kind went against everything he believed in. But what were the alternatives? Let them run free and slaughter innocents? Or cast them out, knowing that if they were captured, they would reveal the camp’s location?

It was a choice between mercy and survival, and Steve had forced himself to accept it.

But now, because of him, Rogan had built something new, something darker.

A prison.

Carved deep into one side of the mountain, the prison was nothing more than a shallow cave, cold, damp, and unlit. The air smelled of stone and old blood. Using connections from nearby cities, the werewolves had spent a fortune buying reinforced shackles, pins, and chains meant for capturing powerful beasts. The metal glowed faintly where runes had been etched into it, channels filled with magic crystals that made them nearly unbreakable.

And at the far end of the cave, beneath a narrow slit of open sky, Steve hung from those shackles.

The chains wrapped tightly around his wrists and ankles, biting into his skin. He wore little more than torn cloth, his bare chest rising and falling slowly. The faint chill of the wind brushed against him through the small opening in the stone ceiling, where he could just barely see the sky.

How did it come to this? he thought, his eyes half-closed. How did I end up here again?

The cold metal weighed heavily on his body, the magic in the chains numbing his energy until he could barely move.

Werewolves and humans... they’re not so different after all, he thought bitterly. When someone challenges the order, both sides find the same way to keep them quiet, lock them away.

Outside, the entire camp knew what had happened. Rogan hadn’t kept it secret; he had even ordered others to help restrain and shackle Steve. The sight had burned itself into everyone’s memory, the man who had once saved so many of them now chained like a criminal.

Yet no one knew why.

Rogan had given no explanation for the fight, no reason for Steve’s imprisonment. And no one dared to ask.

If Steve, the second-strongest in the pack, couldn’t defeat Rogan in battle or sway him with words, then what chance did anyone else have?

Still, the silence didn’t stop the rumors.

“What could’ve caused the fight?” one wolf whispered near the cooking fires. “They were always together, working side by side.”

“Maybe Steve betrayed the pack somehow?” another guessed. “Rogan wouldn’t lock him up without reason.”

“That’s not true,” someone else argued. “Steve wouldn’t do that. He’s the reason half of us are alive.”

The speculation spread through the camp like wildfire, and soon everyone had their own version of the story.

Eventually, a group of them gathered at the scarred section of the mountain where the younger wolves often sparred. The area was wide and open, its rocky floor covered in claw marks from countless training matches. It was a safe place to release tension, part battleground, part playground, a sort of werewolf park.

Among them sat one of the older wolves, broad-shouldered, his fur streaked with gray. He had been part of the pack long before many of the others had even been rescued.

“Young ones,” he said, his voice gravelly. “You’re all acting like this is the first time those two have ever fought.”

The group turned to him, wide-eyed. “What do you mean, old man?”

“I mean this isn’t new,” he said, crossing his arms. “You’ve heard the stories, haven’t you? Back when Steve first left the camp years ago, it wasn’t just to explore. He and Rogan used to butt heads all the time. They never saw the world the same way.”

He glanced up toward the mountain peak where Rogan’s hall stood. “Rogan didn’t want to risk our safety by going out on rescue missions. He thought bringing in too many strays would put us in danger. Steve thought the opposite, that every werewolf deserved a chance to be saved, no matter the risk.”

He gave a slow nod. “That was what tore them apart the first time. Steve left. But when he came back... I guess they learned to tolerate each other. Maybe they both changed a little.”

The younger wolves listened in silence. For many of them, Steve had been the one who’d found them, carried them back from slavery or death. He was the reason they were here at all. They owed him everything.

“But then...” one of them said quietly. “If that’s true, then maybe this is the same thing again. Maybe they disagreed, and it just... went too far.”

The old wolf sighed. “Maybe. Or maybe Rogan saw something he didn’t like, and Steve refused to back down. You all know Steve’s heart. Once he believes something’s wrong, he’ll fight it to the end.”

The group went quiet again, their expressions hardening.

They looked toward the mountain where Steve was being held, their thoughts heavy with guilt and anger.

“Without Steve,” one whispered, “I’d still be in chains.”

“Me too,” another said softly.

They all fell silent, a shared realization sinking in. Rogan might be their leader, but Steve had been their savior. Whatever had happened between the two of them, one truth couldn’t be ignored, if not for Steve, most of them wouldn’t be alive to argue about it.

Finally, one of the younger wolves stood, fists clenched at his sides. “We have to do something,” he said. “We can’t just sit here while he’s locked up like that.”

The others hesitated, glancing toward the Alpha’s hall at the top of the mountain. Rogan’s presence was enough to freeze most of them in place.

But then another stood up beside him. “Steve risked everything for us. It’s time we return the favor.”

The old wolf smiled faintly, though there was sadness in his eyes. “You’ll be walking a dangerous road,” he said. “But if you’re set on it... make sure you know what you’re fighting for.”

The group looked at one another. They didn’t need to say it out loud, they already knew.

****

For updates on MWS and future works, follow me on my social media below.

Instagram: @jksmanga

*Patreon: jksmanga

When news drops about My Vampire System, My Werewolf System, or any other series, you’ll hear it there first. Feel free to reach out, if I’m not too busy, I tend to reply.