2026-02-04 18:14:07"Harry."
The voice wasn't loud. It was almost drowned out by the rustle of the morning wind. But it was enough to make Harry's body go rigid instantly.
He stood at the edge of the trees, one foot still planted on the damp forest soil, the other barely touching the foreign, hard ground. The city light crept slowly over the horizon, pale yellow, cold, and stinging his eyes. The smell of hot asphalt, exhaust fumes, and rusted metal assaulted his nostrils, so different from the scent of pine and wet earth that had been his world until now.
"Harry."
This time it was clearer. Closer.
He knew the voice, even before he turned around. The voice that had led him for years. A voice that never gave commands, yet was always obeyed.
Harry took a deep breath, then turned slowly.
Alpha stood a few yards behind him, precisely on the thin line between the forest shadows and the city light. The massive body stood tall, solid, as if integrated with the ground beneath it. The six other wolves crouched nearby, their eyes sparkling with alertness. Not one stepped forward. They knew this was the boundary. A boundary only Harry could cross alone.
"Alpha," Harry said finally. His voice cracked, far from the confident tone he intended to show.
Guilt weighed heavily on his chest, like a stone. He felt like a child leaving home without truly knowing where to return.
Alpha did not move. His golden-yellow gaze was deep and calm, filled with painful wisdom. There was no anger. No growl. Only acceptance.
Harry took one step back, his bare foot pressing into the forest floor for the final time. Cold. Damp. Familiar.
"I have to know who I am," he said, more firmly now, though his throat felt tight. "This isn't to disrespect you. Or what we have."
He raised his hand, palm open, a slight old gesture, a gesture of peace. The gesture of a pack member.
"I'm going to miss you," he continued softly. The words felt strange on his tongue. "I'm going to miss our nights."
Wolves don't cry. But hot tears still welled up in his eyes.
Silence enveloped them. A heavy silence, full of meaning, far deeper than human words.
Then Alpha raised his head.
He howled.
Not a howl of war. Not a hunting howl. It was a long, deep howl, full of loss. The sound wound through the pine trunks, rising toward the fading sky.
One by one, the other wolves joined in. A piercing chorus, celebrating and releasing.
Harry closed his eyes. The howl seeped into his bones, into his blood. As if the pack were marking his soul, binding him forever, even as he left.
"Thank you," he whispered.
When the sound subsided, Harry knew he mustn't look back. If he did, he would return. He would stay. And the question would kill him slowly inside.
He turned his back on Alpha.
He walked.
Throughout the night, Harry followed the line of the old, barely maintained highway. The cracked concrete beneath his feet felt hard and cold. Each step away from the forest felt like peeling away the protective layer Alpha had built around him.
He remembered his dreams. The painful light. The strange laughter. The feeling of being snatched away.
As dawn broke, concrete buildings began to loom ahead, cutting the horizon like broken teeth. The air grew heavier. There was no longer the scent of wet leaves. Only dust and pollution.
Harry stopped at the edge of the main asphalt road.
Cars sped by, their noise deafening. Much louder than the worst storm in the forest. Humans moved quickly, enveloped in clothing and purpose.
He touched his necklace.
Cold. Heavy.
I don't know how to be one of them.
But he had to try.
He stepped onto the sidewalk.
The sound of his leather boots hitting the asphalt seemed too loud. Several people glanced at him: his hair messy, his clothes shabby, his gaze wild.
He was an anomaly.
"Where do I even start...?" he muttered.
Suddenly
"HEY!"
A horn blared.
A large bus drove too close to the sidewalk, taking a sharp turn.
Harry's instincts flared.
He calculated the distance. Speed. Angle.
He jumped.
Not a human jump.
His body shot several meters, too fast. He landed in a narrow alley near a pile of garbage boxes, trying to dampen the noise.
His breath came in gasps.
"Damn it," he growled. "I can't do that here."
He leaned against the cold brick wall, trying to calm his heart.
Not far away, a pair of old eyes watched him from behind the shadows.
"Young man," a hoarse voice said, "you look like you just ran from a bear."
Or maybe, the voice continued, "from something far more dangerous."
Harry tensed.
He stared back at the old man, who had a thin body, a tattered long coat, and tangled white hair. But his eyes were sharp. Too sharp for an ordinary vagrant.
"I'm not looking for trouble," Harry said warily.
The man smiled faintly. "I'm not the one who jumped that far, kid."
Harry clenched his fists.
"What did you see?" he asked coldly.
"Enough," the man replied lightly. "Enough to know you're not ordinary."
Harry felt the hairs on his arms stand on end.
The man stepped out of the shadows slightly. "Relax. If I wanted to shout, you'd be chased by now."
He looked at Harry from head to toe.
"Your name is Harry, isn't it?"
Harry's world stopped.
"What...?" His breath caught.
The old man looked at the necklace around Harry's neck.
"Your father used to wear that," he said softly.
Harry took one step back.
"Who are you?" His voice trembled.
The man smiled, but the smile wasn't warm.
"Someone who's been waiting for a long time," he replied.
"And believe me, kid, if you think that forest was dangerous..."
He took a step closer.
"...you haven't seen anything yet."
Harry opened his mouth to ask...
But the man whispered first,
"Now there's only one question."
He stared deeply into Harry's eyes.
"Are you ready to know why you were there, what happened that night, kid?"
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Going Back in Time
"You're still alive..." Mrs. Gable whispered, her eyes fixed on the locket around Harry's neck.The kitchen door of the old mansion was barely ajar. The air inside was stuffy, smelling of dried lavender and dust. Harry stood stiffly in the doorway, suppressing the wild urge to barge in."I just want to know what happened to my father," he said softly, but his voice was loud with determination.Mrs. Gable stared at him for a long time, then quickly pulled him inside. The door was locked three times.Harry had left Arthur's warehouse earlier that morning without looking back. Guilt haunted him, but the names Aubrey Family, Black Hand, and Marcus were stronger than everything else.He had searched for clues all day. He listened to whispers from dockworkers, followed shadows, until he finally stood before the old Victorian mansion, the childhood home he didn't remember. The paint was peeling, the gate rusted. It was grand, yet dead.This is where everything began.And perhaps, this is whe
Chapter 10 The Aubrey Family Mansion
“If you step outside now, Harry,” Arthur’s voice was stifled by heavy breathing, “you might never come back.”Harry stopped at the warehouse threshold, but he didn't turn around.“I haven’t been back in too long,” he replied softly.He walked away, leaving the foul-smelling warehouse without looking at Arthur’s face once. He knew Arthur worried. He knew this decision was selfish and dangerous. But the truth about the Aubrey Family, about the Black Hand, and about Marcus called to him more strongly than any safety the hiding place could offer.He couldn't stay silent anymore.For a whole day, Harry disappeared into the city shadows. He moved without visible purpose, but his senses were fully engaged. He listened to the whispers of dock workers, fragments of conversation in cheap pubs, the complaints of old people who still remembered the city’s past. Information about the “old Aubrey family residence” was never spoken out loud. The name still carried fear.As dusk fell, Harry finally a
Chapter 9 Harry's Revenge
“Do you realize, Harry,” Arthur’s voice trembled, strained by ragged breaths, “that one more step back there… we both wouldn't have walked out alive?”Harry didn't answer.He pulled Arthur away from the ruins of the old building, where stone, iron, and dust mingled with the faint, metallic scent of fresh blood. The place that, minutes earlier, had almost become their tomb.Every one of his wolf instincts screamed for him to return, to finish Marcus off right there and end it all.But he forced himself to keep running.Fleeing from that confrontation was the hardest thing he’d ever done.They didn't stop until they reached a new hideout, a small warehouse behind a long-abandoned fish market.The pungent, fishy odor stung the air, mingling with the scent of old burlap sacks and rotting wooden crates. The place wasn't worthy of being called home, but it was secluded enough from the Black Hand, who were clearly watching the harbor.Arthur collapsed onto a pile of sacks, gasping for breath
Chapter 8 The Urban Wolf
"I know you're here," the cold, trained voice echoed, breaking the silence of the harbor warehouse. "You've been holding onto our property for too long, Aubrey boy. Give me the necklace, or I'll make sure you end up worse than your father."Harry froze, his entire body tensing like a steel cable ready to snap. The scent of expensive tobacco and high-quality leather pricked his nostrils, a stark contrast to the rotten smell of the docks. The voice was authoritative, sharp,exactly the tone that haunted his worst nightmares. Marcus. It had to be Marcus."Harry, don't move!" Arthur shouted from behind a stack of crates near the entrance, his voice choked with fear.Harry gripped the necklace beneath his shirt. Outside the crate, the expensive footsteps drew closer, stopping directly in front of the gap where Harry hid. The man didn't need to see. He knew Harry was there."You won't escape me, lost boy," the voice hissed, and Harry could feel the cold threat seeping through the wooden crat
Chapter 7 The Truth Begins to Emerge
"If you want to keep breathing tomorrow morning, listen closely, Harry. This city doesn't forgive creatures like you."Harry didn't reply.Arthur pulled his arm tighter, nearly dragging him out of the alley's shadows. His face was deathly pale as he peeked outside, making sure the two large men were actually gone.The city's sounds returned horns, footsteps, unfamiliar conversations as if what had just happened was merely a brief illusion. For Harry, however, the world had not returned to normal.His wolf instinct was still wired, like a muscle refusing to relax after the hunt. He followed Arthur's gaze, scenting the air, searching for any lingering traces of danger."They won't come back now," Arthur finally whispered. "But that doesn't mean we're safe.""Who were they?" Harry asked quietly.Arthur swallowed. "Thorne's trash." The name slid from Arthur's mouth like poison. "They know someone saw you. And now... now they know you're not just some confused lost kid.""Thorne?" Harry re
Chapter 6 Evidence of the past
"Arthur, wait!" Harry yelled, running to catch up with his new mentor. His voice was too loud, too wild. He clutched the folded note tightly in his left hand.Arthur stopped abruptly on the busy street corner, without turning around. He let out a long sigh before finally turning slowly, his expression now flat with exhaustion."What are you holding, Harry?" Arthur asked, his eyes focused on Harry's hand, not his face.Harry hesitated. He held the paper with both hands now, pulling it away from Arthur. "You dropped this. On the bench earlier."Arthur moved closer, his gaze hardening. "I didn't drop anything. That's not mine. I also know someone's been watching us.""There's a message inside," Harry insisted, feeling his wolf instincts urge him not to trust anyone except his Alpha. It read... "'Watch the boy. He's not yours.'"The air around Arthur seemed to thin. The older man quickly scanned left and right, watching the passing crowd, then pulled Harry into the shadows of a closed sto
