With him watching closely, Caleb and I hit the road into the dark.
๐€โถล๏ฝแปืฉ๏ผฅ๐๏ฝ.ฤ๐๐ช
As we left, I stole a glance at my father standing under the streetlight, his white hair shining, his eyes wet with tears, no longer the tough guy he used to be.
“Dad…”
My voice trembled, guilt flooding me, almost drowning me in discomfort.
๊งเผโฌ๐๐ฎ๐ช๐ป๐๐ธ๐ฟ๐ฎ๐ต๐ผ.๐๐ธ๐ถโฌเผ๊ง
But I stuck with Caleb, walking down this risky path without second thoughts.
Death…
Even though I usually avoided thinking about it, now, facing Gale’s strength, maybe that scary dream I had about a duel was actually a warning of what was to come.
A wave of longing for my mother washed over me suddenly.
Now, I finally got what my mother meant by “difficult fate.” My parents had mentioned it before, but it didn’t hit home until now.
Seeing the harsh hand I’d been dealt, I understood my mother’s determination. If my kid faced the same, I’d fight tooth and nail to change it, no matter what it cost me.
“Debra, let’s go off-road.” Caleb suggested at the fork, his eyes serious. “Slower, but safer. Less chance of tipping off Gale and starting trouble.”
I nodded in agreement. “Sure thing.”
We sped along the backroads, leaving the Silver Ridge Pack far behind us.
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But the clash between the Thorn Edge Pack and the Xeric Pack escalated faster than we ever expected.
As we journeyed through the night, the backroads revealed a heartbreaking sight: werewolves, displaced by the war, scattered and homeless.
Their weary faces and tense posture spoke volumes, evidence of their hurried escape without belongings, leaving them vulnerable to the conflict’s toll. Many bore wounds from the chaos.
Witnessing their plight stirred a deep ache within me.
Caleb’s features softened, his sigh heavy with empathy.
Shaking his head, he murmured, “War’s a brutal thing. It leaves werewolves with no choice but to flee, wandering aimlessly, risking becoming rogues, or worse.”
A wave of melancholy washed over me.
I couldn’t help but ask, “Isn’t there anywhere they can find refuge?
A shelter, maybe?”
Caleb’s smile was wry.
“A shelter? My dear, in our world, every pack fends for itself, battling for survival. A shelter is but a distant dream.”
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