Tolu snarled, lowering himself on all fours. His claws tore into the soil, muscles coiled, ready to lunge at Ore. But the moment her icy blue gaze locked on his, he felt it—an oppressive weight pressing down on him, crushing the fury that boiled in his veins. His instincts screamed the truth: he couldn't win.
His violet eyes darted to the side. Escape. If he couldn't fight, he could run. His legs tensed, and with a sharp breath, he spun to bolt into the trees—
—but a blur of fur landed in his path, teeth bared. The green-eyed wolf.
The growl that rumbled from its chest was primal, commanding. It wasn't just a warning—it was a blockade, the forest itself telling him there was nowhere to run.
Tolu froze, his breaths coming heavy. His body trembled, torn between the rage surging in him and the survival instinct clawing at his mind. Slowly, painfully, his head lowered, shoulders hunching. His snarl broke into a whimper. Submission.
Ore's growl softened, steady but firm. The green-eyed wolf stepped aside, circling to his flank like a silent guardian.
Together, they guided him away, deeper and deeper into the woods—pulling him farther from the human path, farther from the danger of being seen.
Ore and the green-eyed wolf wrestled Tolu down, forcing him back step by step until they reached the clearing. The newborns were gone—sent home shaken and silent—leaving only the leader and the other veterans waiting.
Ore and her companion shifted back behind the trees, pulling on their clothes before stepping into the open again. Tolu's snarls filled the silence, his eyes burning indigo as he thrashed against their grip.
"He's lost control," the leader said grimly, watching the boy struggle. "If he stays like this, he's a danger to everyone."
Ore wiped the sweat from her brow. "Then we lock him down. Warehouse."
The leader gave a sharp nod, and together they dragged Tolu through the forest. His growls rose and fell, each tug on the chains of their grip met with resistance, but he knew he couldn't overpower them. The green-eyed wolf stayed close at his side, cutting off every attempt to break free.
The forest thinned, and soon the silhouette of an old warehouse loomed ahead. Rusted, scarred with claw marks from years of use, it stood like a graveyard monument for wolves who lost control.
The heavy doors screeched open, dust curling into the air. Inside, chains hung from the beams, cold and waiting.
They shoved Tolu forward. He resisted, teeth snapping, but the fight was already gone. One by one, the iron shackles clamped around his wrists and ankles. When they stepped back, his growl echoed in the hollow space, low and defeated, rattling the silence of the warehouse.
Ore's eyes flicked from Tolu's chained form to the wolves gathered around. "So what now? You can't keep him bound like this forever."
Oba, the leader, leaned back against a steel pillar. "We've already called them. Until they arrive, we hold position."
From the corner, Segun scoffed. "Hold position? If Kelechi hadn't jumped in when he did, you'd be on the floor instead of talking right now."
Kelechi, still shirtless from the fight, rolled his shoulders with a grimace. "Don't make it sound like I wanted to. He was stronger than a newborn should've been."
Amaka's voice was sharp, cutting into the silence. "Stronger, and immune to the calming powder. That's the real problem here."
Oba's jaw tightened, but he kept his voice calm. "Exactly why they'll want to see him themselves."
Wale, who had been leaning quietly by the wall, finally spoke. "And if they decide he's too dangerous?"
No one answered. The only sound filling the warehouse was the steady rattle of chains as Tolu shifted restlessly, purple eyes glowing in the dim light.
The heavy door creaked open. Olu stepped in first, followed by an older woman draped in a dark shawl, her presence commanding instant silence.
Her sharp gaze swept over the room before resting on Tolu, chained and restless, his indigo eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.
"Did you try the powder?" she asked without preamble.
"Yes," Amaka answered.
The woman sighed, moving closer. With a subtle wave of her hand, Tolu's growls dulled. His muscles slackened, though his eyes stayed locked on her. She leaned in, fingers prying his eyelids open, then brushed his fur, then tugged gently at his lips to inspect his teeth.
"He isn't suffering from anything physical," she murmured, almost to herself.
From her satchel, she drew out a small mortar, pestle, and several tiny vials of powdered herbs. She plucked a few strands of Tolu's fur, set them into the mortar, and began grinding with practiced motions. Green liquid bubbled, then hissed as smoke rose, shifting suddenly into a deep red.
Her face darkened.
Ore leaned forward. "What's the bad news?"
"Better to start with the good," the woman said evenly. "He'll turn back… eventually."
Ore's brow furrowed. "And the bad news?"
The woman fixed her with a hard stare. "The reason he hasn't turned back is because the feral part of him refuses to be suppressed again."
Ore shook her head. "Suppressed again? This is his first time."
"That's not what I mean," the woman cut in. "His wolf side has been suppressed since birth. One of his ancestors was a werewolf who found a way to seal it—or cure themselves, if you want to call it that. The blood remained dormant… until now."
The room stilled.
Kelechi finally broke the silence. "Wait… cures like that exist?"
"Perhaps not a cure," she said grimly. "But what if it was used as a weapon instead?"
Faces hardened at the thought.
"At least it can be reawakened," Ore muttered.
"Not always," the woman corrected. "He's generations away from. The drug's effect weakened over time as the blood was diluted. That's why he turned now. But if any of his children—or their children—inherit it, they'll be born werewolves outright. No suppression. No delay."
Segun cursed under his breath. "That'd be a mess."
The woman nodded. "Tell your Alpha. Keep a close eye on this one. He'll react violently to suppressant drugs, so warn him. The side effects are clear—he's more aggressive, but also stronger. He'll always be stronger than wolves on his level. But that strength comes with danger: when he's extremely angry or grief-stricken, he'll be prone to… half-feral states."
She straightened, gathering her things. "That's all you need to know for now. Olu. Let's go."
And with that, they left, the warehouse doors groaning shut behind them.