The cave smelled of smoke and blood.
Firelight danced against wet stone walls, casting long shadows that moved like ghosts.
The wounded lay scattered across makeshift bedrolls—mothers pressing cloth to children's cuts, warriors binding each other's arms with torn fabric.
The sound of pain filled every corner. Soft whimpers. Stifled groans. The occasional cry that couldn't be held back.
Violet sat near the fire, knees drawn to her chest.
Beside her, Vael stared into the flames. His face was empty—not peaceful, just hollow. Like something had been carved out and left unfilled.
His father's fangs hung around his neck now, tied with rough cord. They caught the firelight, gleaming red and white.
Eivor moved between them with a wooden bowl, ladling out thin stew. His movements were careful, quiet.
He'd stopped trying to make conversation hours ago.
He set bowls before them without a word.
Steam rose. Neither moved to eat.
Violet's throat was tight. Every breath felt like swallowing glass.
She wanted to say something—anything—but the words stuck like thorns.
Finally, she forced them out. "Are you... okay?"
The question sounded stupid the moment it left her mouth.
Vael didn't look at her. His grey eyes stayed fixed on the fire. "No."
The word fell flat. Simple. True.
Silence stretched.
Then Vael's jaw tightened. "But I need to be." His voice was rough, like he'd been screaming. Maybe he had. "If I don't... if I fall apart now..." He stopped.
Started again. "I need to be strong. For them."
His hand gestured vaguely toward the survivors huddled deeper in the cave, the Beastkin grew by the battles not with age...
Before Violet could respond, a massive shadow fell across them.
Bara lowered himself down with a grunt, favoring his left side where bandages wrapped his ribs.
His face was drawn, pale beneath his fur, but his eyes were steady.
"Exactly, son." His huge hand landed on Vael's shoulder—gentle despite its size. "Your father was the strongest beast I ever faced."
Vael's breath hitched.
"But more than that," Bara continued, voice rough with emotion he didn't try to hide, "he was a true leader. A real warrior. Not because he was powerful—because he knew what mattered. Now it's your turn, protect your pack, fight for them."
Kari appeared from the shadows, moving slower than usual.
Her left arm hung in a sling, and dried blood matted her fur along one side.
She sat beside them without speaking, just nodded once.
The four of them—five, counting Eivor—sat in silence.
The fire crackled.
Somewhere deeper in the cave, a child whimpered in sleep.
Violet's chest felt too tight. All the guilt, the anger, the helplessness—it churned inside her like a storm trapped in a bottle.
She stood abruptly.
"What now?"
Her voice cut through the quiet. Heads turned.
"What now?" she repeated, louder. "Are you just going to sit here? Wait to be hunted down like animals?"
Her hands clenched at her sides. "Or run blindly until someone cuts you down?"
Kari's eyes narrowed. "Mind your words, little one." Her voice was low, dangerous. "We're grateful you helped us, but that doesn't mean—"
"I don't care about gratitude!" Violet's voice cracked. "While you sit here idle, the capital is already moving! They're planning their next massacre right now!"
The cave went still.
"In the coming years," Violet continued, each word deliberate, "they'll move against the other tribes. Then the dwarf kingdoms. They won't stop until they conquer everything!"
Bara's eyes widened. Kari sat up straighter despite her wounds.
"How could you possibly know this?" Kari's voice was sharp. "Looking back... everything you did, it was like you knew exactly what would happen." She leaned forward. "Who are you?"
Violet met her gaze. "My name is Violet Holloway. I'm from Greyhollow Village, far to the north—at the edge of the kingdom." She paused. "And I have... ties to the capital."
The temperature in the cave seemed to drop.
Bara's fists clenched. Kari's squinted at her, her contempt with capital still lingered in her gaze.
"Wait—" Vael started.
"I know you don't trust me." Violet's voice was steady now, cold. "I know hearing I'm connected to the capital makes you want to kill me." She threw a stick into the fire. Sparks flew. "But my hatred for that kingdom runs deeper than yours. What they did to you? They did worse to me."
Kari's eyes searched her face.
"Soon," Violet continued, "they'll march on the dwarf cities. Underground kingdoms that have stood for thousands of years—they'll be crushed. Destroyed. Every man, woman, and child." She looked at Bara. "Greed of nobles has no limits."
Bara's voice came out strangled. "First us, now the dwarves? Does their cruelty have no end?"
Violet's expression was dark. "In this world, the well of evil is bottomless. The faces might change—murder, greed, lust—but they all draw from the same darkness."
She stood, moving toward the cave entrance. "It's not just you. My village is in danger too. Soon, Winterbeasts attack, and then my people will be massacred... My family..." Her voice cracked.
"Then that will not happen!"
Kari's voice rang out. She stood despite her injuries, swaying slightly.
"We Beastkin live by a code. By honor." She stepped toward Violet. "You saved us, little girl. Our lives belong to you now. That's our way."
Before Violet could respond, Kari pulled her into a tight embrace.
Bara rose as well, his huge frame casting shadows. He placed one hand on Vael's shoulder. "The Valley of Winds is gone. We need a new home." He looked at Violet. "Is there somewhere we can settle? Far from the capital, we'll get a home and we can also pay out debt to you..."
Violet blinked, stunned. "I... I didn't want this. I didn't want anyone else to die because of me." Her eyes burned. "I couldn't even protect what I wanted to..."
The tears came before she could stop them.
She turned and fled toward the back of the cave.
***
Violet sat with her back against a cold stone wall, knees pulled to her chest.
The guilt pressed down like physical weight. Every face she'd failed to save flashed through her mind—
Kael bleeding in the snow, the warriors who'd fallen, the children who'd screamed.
And behind it all, the memory of Vael's face from her first life. The way he'd spoken about his father with such hollow grief. The sourpills he could never recreate.
Footsteps approached—light, careful.
An elderly Direwolf woman lowered herself down beside Violet with a soft grunt. Her fur was grey with age, face lined but kind.
"Here, child." She pressed something into Violet's hand. "Try one."
Violet looked down. Small brown pills, roughly made, dusted with sugar.
"That young wolf loves these," the old woman said with a gentle smile. "Sourpills. Sweet and sour together."
Violet hesitated, then placed one in her mouth.
The taste exploded—sharp and tangy, then sweet, then sour again...
Memory struck like lightning.
Vael's voice from her first life: "There was an old woman in our tribe who made these pills. Best thing I ever tasted. She... she died as a hostage. I've tried making them again hundreds of times, but I can never get it right. Can't remember the exact taste anymore."
Violet's vision blurred. Tears spilled warm down her cheeks.
"Can you..." Her voice broke. "Can you teach me? How to make them?"
The old woman's smile widened. "Of course, dear child. Of course."
***
Twenty minutes later, Violet stood before the fire again.
The leaders looked up—Bara, Kari, Vael, and several others who'd gathered.
Violet's hands were shaking. But she forced herself to stand straight.
"I'm sorry." The words came quiet but clear. "I'm sorry for walking away earlier. I was being selfish."
She took a breath. Then another.
Then she bowed—deeply, formally, the way Maria had taught her nobility bow.
"Please..." Her voice cracked. "Please help me save my family."
She stayed bent, eyes squeezed shut. Fear churned in her stomach. What if they said no? What if her earlier words had ruined everything? What if—
He grabbed her hands...
Violet's eyes snapped open.
Vael knelt before her, pulling her upright.
His grey eyes—
still sad, still wounded—
held something else now.
Determination and hope...
"Of course we will." His voice was rough but steady. "My father always said: A wolf never abandons his pack."
He squeezed her hands. His grip was warm, solid, real.
"You're part of our pack now. You saved us. You're my friend!" His lips curved into a small, genuine smile—the first she'd seen since Kael died. "Where you go, the wolves go. That's our way."
Violet's throat closed.
Tears blurred her vision again, but this time they were different.
Relief. Gratitude. Something dangerously close to hope.
She'd spent her first life watching Vael spiral into darkness and revenge.
She'd seen him hollow, broken, consumed by hatred that never satisfied.
But now—
Now he smiled. Sad, yes. Grieving, absolutely.
But not broken.
Not hollow.
He had his people.
He had purpose.
He had hope.
"Thank you," Violet whispered. "Thank you."
Bara's laugh rumbled through the cave. "A caravan of Beastkin heading north! The capital won't know what hit them!"
Kari nodded, her expression fierce. "We'll protect your village, little savior. And in return..." Her eyes gleamed. "You'll help us survive what's coming."
Around them, other Beastkin began to stir. Wounded warriors sat up.
Mothers exchanged glances. Children peeked out from behind their parents.
Slowly—carefully—hope began to kindle.
Not the bright, naive hope of those who'd never suffered.
But the stubborn, earned hope of survivors who'd decided to keep living anyway.
Vael stood, still holding Violet's hand. "When do we leave?"
Violet looked around the cave—at the wounded, the exhausted, the traumatized. At the people who'd just lost everything.
"Three days," she said. "Everyone needs rest first. We'll treat the wounded, gather supplies, and plan the route." Her voice steadied. "Then we move north. To Greyhollow."
The Direwolf boy nodded once. Then he smiled again—small, fragile, but real.
And Violet found herself smiling back.
The journey would be hard. Dangerous. Maybe impossible.
But for the first time since regression, she felt like she wasn't facing it alone.
The pack was moving.
And this time—this time—she'd make sure they all survived.
***
Outside the cave, snow began to fall.
Soft. Gentle. Covering the blood-stained battlefield in clean white.
The world was cruel and dark and full of monsters.
But inside the cave, a fire burned.
And around it, a new pack was forming.
****