Asher raised his hand, and in an instant, the Crimson Pack lunged.
Magnus barely had time to react as the wolves descended upon him, forcing him to shift into his monstrous black wolf. A fierce battle erupted, growls and snarls filling the night air.
I watched, emotionless, as Magnus fought for his life.
The wind stirred through the trees, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine as I followed Asher through the darkened forest. My steps were steady, but inside, I was unraveling. Every breath felt heavier, every thought louder. I had done it—I had walked away from Magnus. But instead of feeling victorious, a strange hollowness settled in my chest.
I clutched the cloak wrapped around my shoulders, my fingers digging into the fabric. I had told myself I wouldn’t look back, but my mind replayed the moment over and over. When the Crimson Pack had surrounded Magnus, I could have let them finish him. I could have stood there and watched, let them tear him apart the way he had torn me apart.
But I couldn't. Even after everything, I had told them to let him go.
The memory burned in my mind—the way Magnus had looked at me, his silver eyes unreadable as I made my choice. He had expected me to be cruel, to seek revenge. Instead, I had left him with nothing. Not mercy. Not forgiveness. Just silence.
"You did the right thing," Asher said beside me, his voice calm, as if he could hear my thoughts. "Killing him wouldn’t have changed anything."
I swallowed hard. "I don’t know what the right thing is anymore."
Asher didn’t respond, just kept walking. The Crimson Pack moved around us, their glowing red eyes flickering in the darkness. Some walked ahead, some trailed behind, but none spoke to me. I could feel their hesitation, their judgment. I was one of them by blood, but in their eyes, I had chosen Magnus over my own people.
And now, I was a traitor returning home.
By the time we reached the pack’s territory, the tension had thickened. The bonfire in the center of the village crackled, casting long shadows across the clearing. Faces emerged from the dark, some familiar, some unfamiliar, all watching me with unreadable expressions.
A figure stepped forward. Soren. I remember him from my childhood, one of the strongest warriors in the pack. His dark gaze settled on me, hard and unforgiving.
"You shouldn’t be here," he said.