Chapter 7 Wolves Of The Wastelands

They moved at first light. The forest thinned the deeper north they traveled, trees bowing like sentinels as they passed. Liora could feel the energy shifting, less alive, more uncertain. The Ash-grove had protected them in silence. But ahead lay something older. Wilder. Hungry.

Mira led the way, her movements swift and calculated. Kael stayed close to Liora, eyes scanning every rise and shadow. The others fanned out, forming a protective perimeter around them.

"Where are we going?" Liora asked quietly.

"The Scarlands," Kael murmured. "What's left of them. There's a Wasteland pack out there, rogues, outlaws. Not bound by code or oath. But we need them."

"You think they'll help us?"

"If the price is right."

They crested a hill and stopped. Below them stretched a barren valley, the land fractured and scorched, like the earth itself had screamed and never recovered. Jagged stone spires rose like claws, and a violet haze drifted over the terrain, making the air shimmer like a heat mirage.

No birds. No sounds.

Just the wind, low and humming. And bones. Scattered across the ground like forgotten warnings.

"Welcome to the Wastelands," Mira said.

They descended slowly, boots crunching over brittle soil. Liora felt exposed here. Every instinct screamed danger. And it wasn't long before she understood why.

A growl echoed across the flatlands. Deep. Threatening.

Then another. And another.

Shapes emerged from the mist. Five... then eight... then twelve.

Wolves. Larger than any Liora had seen. Scarred, eyes gleaming with the feral gleam of creatures who'd long since abandoned rules. Shifters, but darker. Their human forms shimmered beneath the surface like ghosts barely tethered to flesh.

Kael stepped forward, shoulders square.

"We come to speak to Fenrick."

A growl came from the largest wolf. Its form rippled, bone and sinew twisting until a man stood in its place barefoot, tattooed from neck to toe, with eyes like frozen tar.

"And why would the Ash-grove filth summon me?"

"Because there's a war coming," Kael said. "And you can either drown in it, or ride the tide and burn the Regime."

The man.. Fenrick, no doubt grinned, teeth sharp.

"You're bold, Kael. But boldness doesn't buy loyalty."

Then his gaze shifted to Liora.

And for a second, she felt it.

The weight of being hunted.

"Ah," Fenrick whispered. "The Moon's Vessel. The Regime's golden experiment. They said you were broken. That your spirit was shattered in the labs."

Liora met his stare. "Then they lied."

The wasteland wolves stirred, some growling, others curious.

"She's the one," a woman in the back murmured. "I felt it. When she spoke, something in the bond trembled."

"A bond that hasn't stirred in decades," Fenrick said coldly. "Because we severed it. We chose freedom over obedience."

Kael cut in. "She's not asking for obedience. She's offering blood. Truth. And vengeance."

The wind picked up. Somewhere behind them, thunder cracked, though the skies were clear.

Liora stepped forward. Her voice was steady.

"The Regime hunts all of us coded, rogue, Solari, feral. It doesn't matter. They want our extinction. But I say we give them extinction instead... theirs."

A murmur rose.

"You claim to lead?" Fenrick asked.

"I claim nothing," Liora said. "But I was made in their cages. And now I walk free. That makes me dangerous."

She unsheathed her dagger, its rune gleaming.

"And this is your only chance. Because if you wait... they'll come for you too. With drones. Fire. And steel that cuts through magic like smoke."

Fenrick tilted his head. "You want an army."

"No," she said. "I want a pack. A nation. A fury that turns their walls to ash."

The silence stretched.

Then Fenrick chuckled. It built into a laugh, harsh, cruel, then... oddly exhilarated.

"Well damn," he said. "Maybe the stories were true."

He turned to his wolves.

"Prepare the circle. If she bleeds truth, we'll see it."

Mira stiffened. "The Wastelander rite."

Kael nodded. "We can't refuse."

Liora didn't flinch. "I'm ready."

They formed a ring, stone and ash, drawn into strange sigils that pulsed with old power. Fenrick sliced his palm and let the blood fall into the dirt.

"Step in," he said. "And show us what you are."

Liora entered the circle.

The earth hummed. Magic whispered around her, dark, primal, wild. And the runes began to glow.

She gripped her dagger, sliced across her palm, and let her blood drip onto the mark at the circle's heart.

The world shifted.

Visions struck her, silver moons, broken chains, wolves howling beneath stars.

And one voice, ancient and female, whispering:

You are not the end, child. You are the echo of the first howl. The promise of the last dawn.

When she opened her eyes, the circle blazed with silver light.

Fenrick stepped back, awestruck. "By the gods..."

Kael stared at her like he was seeing her for the first time.

"She is Solari," Mira whispered. "And she's more than alpha."

"She's prophecy," Fenrick said.

Liora straightened, blood dripping from her fingers.

"Are you with me?" she asked.

Fenrick dropped to one knee.

"We are."

And one by one, the wolves followed.