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 wasn’t surprised when the question finally came to him. The curiosity wasn’t 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 didn’t sense any malice in the young wolf’s tone. There was no resentment or rebellion in his eyes, just honest longing.
And perhaps that was why Steve didn’t 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.
“Is there an issue with the current pack?” Steve asked, his voice steady but not accusing.
The werewolf shook his head quickly. “It’s not that,” he said, his tone soft, almost apologetic. “For me… it’s 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.”
He hesitated, eyes dimming with old pain. “Even then, I was never a werewolf used for fighting. I hardly ever transformed at all. Living , training, hunting, fighting, it’s difficult for me. I don’t hate it here, I’m grateful for being saved… but I can’t help wondering what it would be like to live with those from the Redwing Kingdom. I’ve heard they live among humans there, that they’re accepted by them. I just wanted to see both sides for myself before deciding where I truly belong.”
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, Rogan’s 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; Rogan’s 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 wasn’t 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.
‘Rogan let me leave once before,’ Steve thought, folding his arms as he listened to the younger wolf’s plea. ‘So it should be fine this time too… right?’
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 weren’t just Alpha and subordinate anymore, they were friends. Steve had earned Rogan’s 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. New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭•𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚•𝕟𝕖𝕥
“I’ll see what I can do,” Steve said at last, his tone gentle but cautious. “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll talk to him.”
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. “If a werewolf feels uncomfortable in the pack,” Rogan said, “then they will continue to feel uncomfortable no matter what we say. Forcing them to stay won’t change that.”
Steve stayed quiet, waiting for more.
Rogan’s gaze shifted toward the fire burning in the center of the room. “Still, if they keep talking about the Redwing pack, it might influence others. I don’t want my wolves thinking they can just move back and forth between packs like changing homes. We’re not a waystation, we’re a family. I want everyone here to understand that.”
He paused, then sighed. “But with all that said, if that’s truly what they wish, then so be it. They can leave.”
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 hadn’t turned into a conflict.
When he returned to the young werewolf, he gave him the news. “Rogan’s agreed,” Steve said with a small smile. “You’re free to go.”
The boy’s 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 wasn’t enough, one of the five wolves they had recently rescued came to him the very next day with the same request.
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 wasn’t 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 pack’s howls echoed faintly in the distance, but even those familiar sounds felt heavier now.
“How do I bring this up to him again?” Steve muttered to himself.
Rogan was reasonable, yes, but he was also proud. Too many requests might make him question his leadership, or worse, see Steve’s involvement as the root of the unrest.
Steve clenched his fists, his breath forming small clouds in the cold night air. “One was fine,” he whispered. “But if this keeps happening… how will Rogan react then?”
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