Chapter 118: Dorian?

AARON I couldn't stop thinking about the wolf. The cabin. The whistle. We walked deeper into the forest toward LunaVille, and my mind kept drifting back to last night. The wolf that showed up wasn't just any wolf. There was something sharp in its eyes. I should have noticed it sooner. When the whistle blew, the wolf ran. At first, I thought it was scared off by the noise, but now, thinking about it again, I knew better. I remembered a mark on the wolf—barely visible, but there. A crescent moon, dark against its fur. 'Aaron, keep up," Luna called, breaking my thoughts. Her voice was steady, but I could hear the tension. I glanced over at her. Her silver eyes scanned the trees, always alert. Helena walked ahead, moving cautiously. She was the only human here, the only one who didn't quite fit. I quickened my pace to walk beside Luna. 'Did you see the wolf last night?" I asked, keeping my voice low. She nodded without looking at me. 'I saw it. Why?" 'There was a mark," I said quietly. 'A crescent moon on its fur." Luna stopped, turning to face me. Her eyes searched mine. 'Are you sure?" 'I'm sure. It looked... familiar." We stood in silence, my words hanging in the air. My heart thudded in my chest. A mark like that wasn't just a mark. It was a symbol. It meant the wolf was from a pack…a pack I knew very well. 'LunaVille," I whispered. 'It's from LunaVille." Luna's eyes narrowed, worry etching her face. 'One of ours," she muttered, barely audible. If that wolf was from our pack, why did it run? Why was it there at all? 'We have to be careful," Luna said softly. 'If it's one of ours, they might be following us. Or worse." I nodded, a knot forming in my stomach. Memories flashed in my mind. I remembered the last time I saw that mark. It was on a wolf's arm—Dorian's. A strong werewolf, loyal once, but he had turned. Left the pack, vowing revenge. Could it be him? Could he be back? 'Do you think it's Dorian?" I asked, my voice trembling. 'Could he have returned?" Luna didn't answer right away. She glanced at Helena, lost in her thoughts, then back at me. 'I don't know," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. 'But if it is, we're in more trouble than we thought." A chill ran down my spine. Dorian was dangerous, unpredictable. If he was back, he wasn't here to make peace. He wanted revenge. And he'd stop at nothing to get it. Dorian. His name brought back a rush of memories, each one sharper than the last. It was hard not to think about him, especially now. He was a part of our pack once—our family. But that felt like a lifetime ago. He was tall, broad-shouldered, the kind of guy you couldn't ignore if you tried. When Dorian walked into a room, you felt it. He had this presence, this way of looking at you with his strange, dark eyes. They weren't quite brown, not quite gold. There was something wild in them, something that made you uneasy if you stared too long. His hair was dark and unruly, always seeming like he'd just run through the woods with the wind tearing through it. I remembered when he used to laugh, a deep, rumbling sound that could make anyone smile. Back then, we were close. I admired him. He was brave, strong, always ready to jump into the fight to protect us. He had this way of making you feel safe, like nothing could touch us as long as he was there. He was a leader, even when he wasn't trying to be. People just followed him naturally. I did, too. He was like a big brother to me, someone I looked up to. But things changed. I wasn't sure when, exactly. Maybe it was when the elders chose Alpha Theodore to lead instead of him. I could see the hurt in his eyes, the way he clenched his jaw when the decision was announced. He tried to hide it, but we all saw. He had worked so hard for that position. After that, he was different. He started pulling away, becoming quieter, more distant. The warmth in his eyes turned cold, and his words became sharp, cutting like a knife. He seemed angry all the time, like he was carrying a grudge that only grew heavier. I tried talking to him once, to see if he was okay. I still remembered the look he gave me, like I was a stranger. His voice was flat, emotionless, as he said, 'I'm fine, Aaron. Just... leave it." I did leave it, and maybe that was my mistake. Maybe I should have tried harder, but I didn't know how. None of us did. Then, one day, he was gone. No warning, no goodbye. Just gone. Some said he went rogue, couldn't stand to take orders anymore. Others thought he was planning something..something big. Maybe starting his own pack, one that would do things his way. I didn't know what to believe. I just knew that he left a hole in our group that we couldn't fill. It hurt, losing him like that, not knowing what he was thinking, where he went. After he left, it was hard to remain back. It was part of the reason I left that night…the night that brought me here, with Helena and Luna. The last time we saw him…or thought we did, was during a scheduled border patrol. Apart from the boundaries, where the outlands were, the elders made sure the scouts conducted routinely patrols to keep any wolves that weren't a part of us away. Rogue wolves had a reputation for being deadly, stubborn and all round dangerous. That day, our scouts found him, or at least someone with his mark, the crescent moon carved deep into their skin. He left them wounded, but alive. A warning. A message. He wasn't done with us. Not by a long shot. I could still see that look in his eyes from before he left…the anger, the betrayal. He believed we turned our backs on him, that we were the ones who changed. But it wasn't us. It was him. Something inside him broke, and I didn't know if we could ever fix it. Thinking about him now, I felt a mix of fear and sadness. If he was the wolf we saw near the cabin, then things were worse than I thought. Dorian didn't just leave; he was coming back for something, maybe revenge, maybe more. And deep down, I knew we had to be ready. He wouldn't show us any mercy. Not anymore.