Heir of The Werewolf Blood

Chapter 4 The Engraving Beneath the Pendant

Harry 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.