The Last Lycan System

Chapter 5: Whispers in Frostvale

Noah didn't sleep well after the shed. He kept hearing the woman's voice on a loop. *He doesn't even know what he is.* By Saturday he needed to be anywhere that wasn't the academy, so when Dax mentioned a supply run into Frostvale, Noah offered to come along before Dax even finished asking.

"Didn't peg you for a shopping trip kind of guy," Dax said as they walked through the gates.

"I need new boots. Mine are falling apart."

"Sure. Boots."

"What, you don't believe me?"

"I believe you need boots. I don't believe that's the only reason you're coming."

Noah didn't answer that, and Dax, to his credit, didn't push.

Frostvale on a Saturday was loud in a way the academy never was … market stalls, vendors shouting prices, packs of younger kids weaving through the crowd without a single adult trying to stop them. Noah liked it here. Nobody in the city knew his rank. Nobody looked at him and saw rank forty-seven. He was just another face in the crowd, and for an hour, that felt like enough.

They split up near the boot stall, Dax heading off toward the bookshop, and Noah found himself drifting toward the edge of the market where fewer people bothered to look up from their business.

That was where he heard it.

Two women, older, standing near a fabric stall, voices pitched low the way people talk when they think nobody nearby matters enough to overhear.

"...heard the Ashworth pack lost another litter. Third one this year."

"That family's cursed. Everyone knows it."

"It's not a curse, it's the blood. You marry outside the approved lines enough times, this is what happens."

"Marisol swears it started after they had that wolfless boy. Fifteen years back, maybe more. Said the second he was born, nothing in that pack's bloodline sat right again."

Noah froze mid-step.

"A wolfless child?" the first woman said. "I didn't know that happened outside the old Grayblood line."

"It happens more than people admit. Families just hide it. Ship the child off somewhere quiet, pretend it never happened, hope the rest of the bloodline doesn't rot along with it."

"That's horrible."

"That's survival. A wolfless child in an Alpha bloodline isn't just bad luck. It's a warning. The old stories say it means the bloodline itself has gone wrong somewhere … that the wolf skipped that child because something in the line broke before he was even born."

Noah's mouth had gone dry. He should have kept walking. He didn't.

"Do you believe that? Actually believe it?"

"I believe enough Alpha families have quietly disowned wolfless children to make you wonder. Better to cut the branch than let it poison the whole tree, that's what my grandmother used to say."

"Grim."

"True, though. Ask anyone from the old court era. They'll tell you the same. A wolfless heir is the worst thing that can happen to a bloodline. Worse than losing a war."

"Do you think the Ashworths will send him away? The boy, I mean."

"If they haven't already, they will. No pack wants that hanging over their name forever."

The women moved on to some other gossip, easy as anything, like they hadn't just described his entire existence as a plague on a family tree. Noah stood rooted to the spot for a long moment, the noise of the market blurring into a dull roar around him.

*A wolfless child is a warning. The bloodline itself has gone wrong.*

He thought of Adrian's face in the field. *It's not that I can't stand it. It's that I can't.* He thought of the woman at the shed. *He doesn't even know what he is.* He thought about every flinch, every excuse, every four-in-the-morning silence that had defined his entire relationship with the only family he had.

Maybe it wasn't shame keeping Adrian distant. Maybe it was something closer to fear.

He found Dax an hour later outside the bookshop, and didn't mention any of it. Some things didn't survive being spoken out loud.

They were nearly back at the academy gates when a boy about their age fell into step beside them, grinning in a way that made Noah's stomach tighten before he'd even said a word.

"You're the wolfless one, right? From Blackfang?"

"Depends who's asking."

"No offense," the boy said, hands raised. "Just curious. Never actually seen one up close. Didn't know they let you guys off campus."

"We're not livestock."

"Didn't say you were." The boy's grin didn't fade. "My cousin's in the Ashworth pack. You believe what they say about that family? About the curse starting with their wolfless kid?"

Noah's jaw tightened. "I don't know anything about that."

"Guess you wouldn't." The boy tilted his head, studying him with open curiosity. "Do you ever wonder if it means something, though? Being what you are?"

"I try not to."

"Smart. Probably wouldn't either." He shrugged, unbothered, already peeling off toward a group of friends waiting near the fountain. "Anyway. Good luck in there. Heard the ranking board's brutal this year."

Dax waited until the boy was well out of earshot before speaking. "You okay? You went kind of quiet back there."

"Fine."

"You sure? Because that guy was kind of a jerk, and you didn't even…"

"I said I'm fine, Dax."

Dax held his hands up, dropping it, but he kept glancing over at Noah the rest of the walk, like he wasn't quite convinced.

"For what it's worth," Dax said eventually, "I don't think any of that curse stuff is real. People just like having someone to blame when things go wrong."

"Maybe."

"You don't sound like you believe that."

"I don't know what I believe right now."

They walked the rest of the way to the gates in silence. Dax split off toward the mess hall, still hungry from the trip, and Noah headed for the dorms alone.

Noah barely registered the walk back. His mind kept circling the same two facts, turning them over and over, trying to make them fit together into something that made sense. A wolfless child was supposedly a curse on any Alpha bloodline. Adrian was hiding something about what Noah was. And somewhere, buried in his desk drawer, sat a note that claimed he'd been sealed … not born wolfless, but *sealed.*

He didn't believe in coincidences anymore. Not after today.

He was almost to his room when he noticed his door was already cracked open.

He never left it open. He'd been careful about that ever since the note first showed up … a habit that felt paranoid right up until the moment it wasn't.

He pushed it the rest of the way with two fingers, heart hammering, and stepped inside. Dax's side of the room was empty, bed still unmade from that morning. His own side looked exactly as he'd left it … bed made, desk untouched, nothing visibly out of place.

Except the drawer. His desk drawer, where he kept the note, was sitting open a full inch, the way it never was when he left it closed and locked.

Noah crossed the room in three steps and yanked it open the rest of the way.

Everything else inside looked untouched … his notebooks, his old academy pin, a spare pen he never used. But the note was gone.