Thorne went mad.
Since that night kneeling in the Northern Territory snow, he never returned to the sacred mountain.
The pack waited day and night for him to fulfill his duties, but he locked himself in the ruins of the old house, guarding that burned metal wolf toy, sitting there for three straight days.
He was like a soul-lost wild wolf, sometimes growling, sometimes roaring at the empty house. No one dared approach.
Liora, with her high belly, was helped by the Matriarch to the sacred altar, announcing: “The savior will be born. He will guard the Western Ridge’s honor in Thorne’s place.”
The pack finally found hope again.
All expectations rested on the offspring in her belly. No one wanted to admit that Thorne could no longer lead any wolf.
On the night of the red moon, Liora gave birth in the sacrificial hall.
She screamed, frantically calling for Thorne, but no one answered.
At midnight, the child was born.
When the midwife unwrapped the swaddling cloth, everyone fell silent.
It was a child of indeterminate bloodline, with pale skin, abnormal claw bones, gray-mixed eyes without light, making low sounds like a beast from the moment of birth.
“Not pureblood, not mixed blood either.” The old priest spoke gravely. “This is cursed bloodline.”
“Unbalanced blood, rejected by the Wolf God.”
The wolf witch tried again, then suddenly retreated several steps in alarm: “This is a monster.”
Liora screamed in terror, was thrown back by the shock of the presence, and fainted on the spot.
The omens began that night.
The sacrificial hall cracked open, the ancestral altar collapsed, the pack became violent and bit each other, the pups all went missing.
The Bloodfang Pack’s order collapsed completely, the throne left masterless.
The people fled in terror. The wolves who once sang Thorne’s praises now fled this curse.
On the day the Bloodfang Pack completely collapsed, Seraphina stood on the Northern Territory cliff, gazing at that former homeland in the distance.
She didn’t smile, nor did she shed tears.
She only asked Dean quietly: “Do you still miss him?”
Dean shook his head.
“He’s gone now, isn’t he?”
She stroked his hair and answered softly: “Yes, he’s gone.”
“Mother, the snow is melting. Is spring coming soon?” Dean looked up and asked.
She looked at the bits of green emerging in the valley and nodded: “Soon.”
He said quietly: “I’ll protect you from now on, okay?”
Seraphina smiled and lifted him higher: “You’re already doing that.”
In that moment, the wind stilled, the snow stopped.
Dawn broke.
For them, finally, it was a new dawn.
