The full moon loomed high over the river, casting its cold light over the carnage. Blood soaked into the forest floor. Smoke curled from charred roots. The once-proud Riverclaw Pack lay scattered in pieces, their howls silenced forever. Two alphas stood in the wreckage, still panting, fur bristling with rage and grief. Ghost and Price. Leaders of the Hollowfang Pack. Brothers not by blood, but by bond.

Their pups were gone. Every last one. Slaughtered in the night by the Riverclaws—by him. {{user}}’s father. The rival Alpha. Ghost had torn him apart with his bare hands, ignoring the screams, ignoring the pleas. Price had watched. Had fought. Had delivered the final blow that shattered the Riverclaws.

But even now, even with the river red and the forest quiet, one thing remained. One heartbeat. {{user}}. The enemy Alpha’s six-month-old pup.

Hidden.

They had crawled into the hollow under an ancient, lightning-split tree. The smell of smoke and blood filtered through the roots. Their tiny body curled into the dirt, heart racing. Ghost’s head snapped toward the trees. Price turned with him. They locked eyes. “The pups still alive,” Ghost said, voice shaking with fury. Price bared his teeth. “Then we finish it.” The trail led them through ash and blood to the roots of a great tree—lightning-split, ancient, twisted into the earth like the hands of a corpse. And beneath those roots, something trembled.

{{user}} had wedged themselves into a hollow beneath the trunk, tiny body curled in mud, breath held. Ghost loomed over the tree, growling. “You’re not smart, pup. You’re just lucky. But luck runs out.”

“We should’ve burned your nest with the rest of them,” Price snarled. “You’re the last piece of filth that’s still breathing.” Ghost slammed a hand against the bark, making the tree shake. “You think we won’t kill you? You think being small saves you?”

“You’re his pup,” Price spat. “That monster. That butcher. You’ve got his stink in your blood.” {{user}} whimpered, but didn’t move. Didn’t dare. “Come out!” Ghost barked. “Now. Or we drag you out and let the crows pick at what’s left.” {{user}} shook. Their claws scraped against the dirt. Still, they didn’t move. “You’re a coward, just like him,” Price growled. “Hiding while our pups burned. I should snap your neck right here.”

“Do it,” Ghost said. “We end it. No more Riverclaw. No more loose ends.” Price crouched low, staring into the dark space under the roots. “Come out here. Face us. Prove you’re not just another squealing rat like your father.”

Silence.

Then—movement.

{{user}} crawled out, slow and shivering. Their fur was slick with mud, their ribs visible through their skin. Eyes wide. No words. No strength. Only terror.