2026-02-04 18:26:09Harry curled tighter under the thin blanket, his body trembling not just from the cold, but from the horrifying realization that he might have risked everything for nothing but new confusion and fear.
Arthur, who seemed more accustomed to the city night's cold, shifted slightly, arranging the cardboard scraps around them as a windbreak.
"You must be very hungry, son," Arthur's voice was soft now, no longer as rough as before. "That bread I gave you won't be enough to sustain you. It was only bait."
Harry opened his eyes. He was still alert, his ears catching the distant traffic sounds, which now felt slightly muffled within their small shelter. He couldn't see Arthur clearly, only a large shadow beside him.
"I'm not hungry," Harry lied, his voice still rough and weak. He didn't want to burden this stranger, this person he'd only met hours ago. In the forest, sharing was a sign of trust; here, sharing food felt like begging for alms, an act that lowered his self-worth.
"Don't be stupid," Arthur countered. "I know hunger. That kind of hunger isn't just about an empty stomach; it's about your body demanding fuel. You move like an animal that's just come out of forced hibernation. Your body needs energy."
Harry stayed silent. He felt his stomach respond to Arthur's statement with clearer pain. He tried to ignore it, focusing on the necklace he clutched tightly beneath his shirt.
"I need to look for myself," Harry insisted. He tried to get up, but the exhaustion from the crazy jump and the sleepless night in the forest made him unsteady.
"You're not going anywhere tonight," Arthur cut him off firmly. "You've spent too much energy. If you move now, you'll attract unwanted attention. Or you'll fall in the middle of the street and spend the night in a gutter. Stay put. I'll go get it for you."
Harry hesitated. His desire for independence fought with the urgent need for food and a safe shelter. Arthur seemed like someone who knew how to survive in this place, something Harry hadn't mastered at all.
"Why are you helping me?" Harry asked suddenly, the question coming out before he could filter it. It was the wolf instinct always looking for others' motives.
Arthur was silent for a long time. The sound of his breathing became the only sound between them. Harry felt Arthur's gaze penetrate him, as if the old man were reading his bone structure and the fear he tried to hide.
"Why am I helping you?" Arthur repeated softly. "Because I see something in your eyes, Harry. Something too wild for this city, and too sad for this forest. I've seen too many people lost without purpose for too long. I've also seen others besides you wearing a necklace with a pendant shaped like that.”
"That thing," Arthur continued, his gaze fixed on Harry's neck area, "I've seen something like it before. Very rare. It's not ordinary jewelry."
"Do you know my family?" Harry asked. "It's just an old necklace," Harry replied curtly, his voice cold, returning to wolf survival mode.
Arthur didn't back down. His eyes narrowed, as if he were trying to remember something from a distant past. "No. That necklace... it looks familiar. Like something I saw in old photographs. Very expensive photos, in newspapers long discarded."
Harry swallowed. The warmth of those words felt strange to him, even a little painful. It didn't fit the harsh world he had imagined all this time. He was used to receiving kindness that always came with conditions; meat from the Alpha meant duties for the pack. But this was different. This was kindness that came freely, without asking anything in return.
"I have nothing to pay you with," Harry said, feeling the need to state this.
"You give me your story, someday," Arthur replied. "That's enough for me. Now, stay quiet. I'll be gone for a moment."
Arthur crawled out from the embrace of the cardboard and his coat, moving with surprising grace for his age. He stepped onto the street, which was just beginning to quiet down. Harry watched Arthur walk away, disappearing behind the bustle of newly opened night stalls.
Harry felt uneasy. He was alone again, vulnerable. He couldn't see the threat, but his senses screamed that being in this alley alone without Arthur was a great risk. He shifted, pressing his back against the cold concrete.
His breathing became shallower. He reached for his necklace through the layers of his clothes. Cold. He pulled it out slightly, letting the silver pendant catch the dim light from the street lamp several blocks away.
As the pendant caught a bit of light, Harry saw something that made him gasp.
On the smooth metal surface of the pendant, there now appeared to be carvings much clearer than anything he had seen before. It wasn't just an emblem. It was a very small, almost microscopic, carving that formed an initial. A. Then, beneath it, an emblem resembling an inverted eagle wing.
What was this? Harry tried to run his thumb over the carving, but the engraving was too fine. He tilted his head, trying to get a better look, his sharp eyes instinctively trying to focus on the small details.
Suddenly, Arthur returned. He wasn't walking; he was creeping, as if avoiding something. In his hand, he carried a brown paper bag that gave off an aroma much richer than stale bread. It was the smell of roasting meat and rich oil.
Arthur immediately crawled back to their spot, moving quickly and silently. He handed the bag over to Harry.
"Take this," Arthur whispered. "I got lucky tonight. A kebab stall was about to close. They threw out a large portion that was still warm. They were too lazy to package it."
Harry grabbed the bag. The warmth of the paper spread to his palms, and the aroma of cooked meat—an aroma he recognized from far away in the forest—made his stomach churn. This was real food. He pulled out a large piece of meat served with some soft pita bread. He put it in his mouth. It tasted incredible, a feast he had never experienced. He ate quickly, exactly like a hungry wolf, without thinking about Arthur, without thinking about courtesy.
Arthur watched him again. This time, his expression wasn't flat. There was a look of admiration mixed with a little sadness in his old eyes.
"You eat like a very hungry wild animal," Arthur said, his voice almost inaudible.
Harry stopped, a piece of meat still hanging from his lips. He realized he had devoured more than half the portion in seconds.
"Sorry," Harry mumbled, trying to control his bites. He held himself back from licking the meat crumbs off his fingers.
"Don't apologize for being hungry," Arthur said. Then, Arthur pointed at Harry's necklace, which was now slightly exposed due to Harry's movements while eating. "That's a good piece of work. Ancient silver."
Harry immediately pulled his shirt up to cover the necklace. The suspicion that he had long suppressed surged to the surface. Arthur hadn't just glanced at it; he observed the necklace, just as he observed Harry's speed.
Harry felt his heart race, not from hunger, but from an invisible threat. Arthur had seen too much. He was too curious. In the forest, someone too curious often ended up as prey. Harry held his breath. Arthur moved slightly closer, ignoring the distance boundary he had maintained so far.
"What's your name, Harry? Your real name," Arthur demanded, his tone no longer mentor-like advice, but an urgent question from someone who had just found a very important puzzle piece.
Harry looked up, his yellow eyes, not completely hidden by the darkness, now meeting Arthur's directly. He saw a shadow of Arthur's past there deep guilt and loneliness.
"I don't know my real name," Harry replied, his voice trembling from a mixture of fear and exhaustion. "I only know I have to find out what this necklace means."
Arthur sighed heavily, then nodded slowly, his gaze softening slightly.
"Alright, Harry. You're safe here tonight. But listen to me carefully," Arthur said, his tone returning to protective street mentor mode. "Tonight, you'll just rest and fill your stomach. But tomorrow... tomorrow we have to find out where that necklace came from. Because if you found the wrong thing, Harry, then you're not just being chased by city rats. You're being chased by people who don't like their things being taken."
Arthur patted Harry's shoulder once, then curled back to the other side, letting Harry hold the remaining warm food.
Harry bit into the remaining meat with a feeling now mixed between pleasure and terror. He accepted Arthur's protection, but now he realized, this old man had seen more than just a homeless person. He saw something related to Harry's past, something valuable, something very dangerous. He closed his eyes, trying to enjoy the warmth of the meat, but the image of Arthur staring at his necklace kept replaying in his mind, promising a much more important meeting the next day.
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Chapter 63
"Arthur..." Clara whispered, her voice choked. She looked at Harry, then toward the unfamiliar streets beneath the same overcast sky. A hollow, piercing sensation took hold of Harry’s chest. They had managed to escape the explosion; they had managed to avoid the danger. But at the cost of Arthur. M.V.'s betrayal felt like a crushing blow, exacerbated by the reality that they were trapped here, separated from Arthur, and that The Veil had seemingly vanished after dropping them off."We have to go back," Harry said, his voice cold. A lupine tone began to creep into every word. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the distant city skyline, where strange flashes of light were visible again. That familiar yet alien wave of energy could be felt once more, a sign that a new threat was not only lurking, but spreading. "We are going back for him.""But the portal is closed, Harry," Clara said, her eyes radiating a mix of desperation and resolve. She gripped her tablet tightly, as if it were her o
Chapter 62
Harry felt the cold forest air creeping across his skin, the remnants of a battle that had only just ended. His body still screamed with exhaustion, yet beneath it, a new strength flowed through him. The obsidian artifact, now calm in his hand, felt lighter, more attuned to him. The rite had succeeded. He had endured the artifact’s wildest power, and in doing so, he had mastered the part of himself that had long been in turmoil.Alpha stepped closer, brushing his nose against Harry’s arm in a gesture of sincere respect. “You have proven yourself, Guardian,” his voice echoed in Harry’s mind, filled with newfound reverence. “You are part of this balance.”Clara smiled with relief, dusting off her sleeve. “You were incredible, Harry. Truly incredible.” Arthur, though visibly tired, smiled with pride. “You did your best, son. The balance has been restored.”Yet the peace felt fragile. Silas’s promise, the leader of the Crystal Order who had escaped, rang in Harry’s ears. “We will return.
Chapter 61
Another group of wolves emerged from behind the trees, low growls rumbling in their throats. Their gazes were cold, laced with doubt. Harry felt their sharp eyes piercing through him, judging. The Alpha beside him remained calm, but his voice echoed in Harry's mind, "They do not approve. They deem you unworthy. You must prove yourself, Guardian."Harry tightened his jaw. Proving himself. He had been doing that his entire life. Every step of his journey had been an act of validation. He looked at the Alpha, then shifted his gaze to Clara and Arthur standing behind him, their faces tense. Worry was etched clearly upon them, but so was an unwavering trust. That was enough for him."I will prove it," Harry said, his voice steady—not just for the Alpha and the doubting pack, but for himself. He pulled the obsidian artifact from his bag. The object's coldness now felt familiar, like a part of his own self he had just discovered. The energy from the circle of sacred stone
Chapter 60
The morning air bit at his skin, but it wasn't the cold that made Harry shiver. It was a subtle sensation, like a strand of cold silk brushing against his back, a sign he knew all too well. They knew. Arthur's words about the guardian's rite and Anya's whispers from The Veil about destiny finding its way swirled in his mind. Today, they were heading to the ancient forest, the place Arthur believed held the key to pacifying the artifact, and Harry knew they wouldn't be alone there."Are we ready, Harry?" Clara's voice sounded tense. She carried a backpack that looked stuffed to the brim, a tablet in her hand displaying a digital map. A worried crease sat between her brows, a shadow of exhaustion from sleepless nights spent tracking the movements of the Crystal Order on her laptop."As ready as we'll ever be," Harry replied, exhaling. He checked the contents of his bag, ensuring the artifact was secure in the special pouch Arthur had fashioned. The cold of the obsidian bled through the
Chapter 59
Harry could still feel the coldness of Anya's gaze, the echo of her threats lingering in his mind. He closed his eyes, trying to cast off the creeping sense of unease, but could only feel the burden of his inheritance growing heavier. "She's right," Harry muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "We need answers. And we need them now."Arthur pointed to the notebook open before him. "I found something else. These notes mention the 'Rite of the Guardian.' It sounds like something that could contain or control the power of this artifact."Clara leaned in, trying to decipher Arthur's intricate handwriting. "A rite? You mean some kind of ancient ritual?""Yes," Arthur replied, his voice trembling slightly with a mix of excitement and exhaustion. "But not just any ritual. There are vague hints about a specific location, a place with strong natural energy, and several rare elements that must be gathered." He sighed. "Unfortunately, the description of the location is very cryptic. It only
Chapter 58
Harry coughed, the lingering traces of cold mist still bitter in his throat. His muscles screamed in exhaustion; every movement felt heavy. The transformation had drained him down to his bones. Clara supported his arm, her worried gaze never leaving him. Arthur watched the recently closed door with a tense expression. The man from the Crystal Order was gone, but the ghost of his presence still hung in the air, like the shadow of a deferred death."Harry, you need to rest," Clara sighed, helping him into the nearest chair.Harry shook his head slowly. Sleepiness tugged at him, but his instincts refused. Not now. He felt something. A cold sensation crept over his skin, as if eyes were watching him—piercing the walls, reaching into the depths of his soul. He knew this feeling. It was the same scrutiny he had felt at the clinic when he first realized the existence of The Veil."They're watching," Harry whispered, his voice raspy. His eyes narrowed, staring at an empty spot on the wall whe
