POV: Luna Silver
The red wolves circle, teeth shining like fresh blood on snow.
Vex stands in the center, black fur rippling, eyes burning oil-red.
Behind me, Finn's breath clouds the night; I feel his heart hammer against my back.
Milo's tail brushes my ankle—steady, ready to spring.
I tug the cracked crystal chip from my pocket; its crown-and-moon symbol pulses weak blue, trying to push back the red glow.
The babies answer with a kick, as if they, too, want to fight.
Vex lowers his head.
"Hand me the key, little moon.
I'll let your cubs live."
Finn steps forward, silver paw glowing.
"You lost your wolf.
How are you even standing?"
Vex's grin widens.
"Trade secret."
He nods at the strangers.
"Meet the Out-Pack.
They follow strength, not blood."
The six red wolves snap their jaws in unison—clang, like metal traps.
Sparks fly.
These aren't normal wolves; something inside them rings artificial, like the human guns.
Milo whispers, "Clockwork hearts?
I smell oil."
He's right—under the wet-dog scent hides iron and grease.
My stomach turns.
Vex was stripped of his wolf spirit days ago; he shouldn't be able to shift.
Yet here he is, bigger, stronger, wrong.
I found my voice.
"What do you want with the vault key?"
Vex flicks an ear.
"To rewrite your rewrite, of course.
The law you scratched belongs to me now.
Hand it over, or the circle closes."
Finn's fangs drop.
"We beat you before.
We'll do it again."
Vex chuckles.
"Different battlefield, nephew."
He raises a paw.
The nearest red wolf lunges—not at us, at a pine tree.
Its jaws shear through the trunk like scissors.
The tree tilts, crashing between us and the path back to town.
Dust and snow plume.
Message received: they're faster than they look.
Finn's mind races; I feel it through our linked heartbeats.
We can't outrun them.
We can't fight six iron jaws.
We need to stall.
I lift the chip higher, letting moonlight catch it.
"Trade, huh?
Show me your offer."
Vex's eyes follow the crystal, hungry.
He signals.
The circle stops advancing.
He backs up a step, clearing a small space.
From behind a rock he nudges a silver box—locked, palm-sized, etched with the same crown symbol.
My breath catches.
Another vault piece?
He sets it gently in the snow, as if it's fragile.
"Locked twin to your key.
Together they open the Deep Vault under the school—where the real laws are buried.
Give me your chip, I give you the box.
You walk away, cubs safe."
Finn growls.
"Why would we trust you?"
Vex shrugs.
"Because I need the chip alive, and you need time.
Fair swap."
Milo mutters, "He's stalling too—waiting for something."
I study the box.
It hums, calling to the chip like a brother whistling across the night.
My palm tingles.
The babies kick, unsure.
Finn nudges me.
"We destroy both pieces, end this."
Vex hears.
His eye twitches.
"Destroy them, and the mountain itself will crack.
Laws are roots—pull them, land slides."
I believe him.
The scroll we changed felt heavy for a reason.
These items are more than metal; they're anchors.
I step forward.
"One condition," I called.
"Let Milo leave with Finn.
I will stay for the swap."
Finn snaps, "No!"
I squeeze his paw.
"We need someone free to warn the pack if this goes wrong."
Reluctant, he nods.
Milo protests, but I glare.
He sighs, slips backward into the shadows.
Finn backs away too, eyes never leaving Vex.
The circle opens a small gap.
Vex and I face each other over snowy ground, chip in my hand, box at his paws.
Snowflakes drift between us like slow white sparks.
He nods.
"On three."
I bend my knees, ready.
"One…"
Wind howls through pines.
"Two…"
A low rumble rolls under our feet—distant at first, then louder.
Engine growl, not wolf.
Headlights bloom on the ridge road beyond the trees—big trucks, moving fast toward town.
Vex's ears flatten; his eyes flick that way, worrying cracking his smile.
The Out-Pack wolves shift, uncertain.
I use the distraction.
I fling the chip high into the air.
Vex lunges upward to catch it.
At the same instant I dive forward, snatch the silver box, roll aside.
Chip and box pass mid-air.
Blue light kisses silver metal—flash!—then both drop.
I land hard on my side; babies protest, but the box is safe under my arm.
Vex catches the chip between his teeth, triumphant—until the light flares again, burning his tongue.
He yelps, spits it out.
Chip lands in snow, glowing angry blue.
Circle breaks; red wolves rush me.
Finn explodes from shadows, slamming two attackers aside.
Milo reappears, riding one wolf's back, biting ears.
Snow erupts in a blur of fur and fang.
I scramble toward Finn, box clutched tight.
A red wolf snaps at my cloak; I feel fabric tear.
Another flash blinds us—this time from the ridge road.
The truck has reached town lights.
Its doors burst open.
Figures pour out—humans in white, but also wolves in silver collars, walking beside them like partners.
My blood freezes.
The humans and Vex didn't come alone.
They brought tamed wolves—our own kind—wearing tech that glows the same red as the Out-Pack eyes.
Vex sees them too; his grin returns wider.
He howls—a long, rolling call that shakes snow from branches.
The collared wolves answer, voices hollow, wrong.
They sprint down the slope toward us, humans behind.
We're now out-numbered two to one.
Finn grabs my sleeve.
"Time to go!"
We bolt into the pines, Milo leading.
Branches whip my face; I cradle the box, protecting it like a second heart.
Behind us, Vex scoops the glowing chip from the snow, clamps it in his teeth despite the burn.
He races toward the town, Out-Pack and new collared wolves streaming after him.
We break from trees onto the main road.
Ahead, Pine-Paw's wooden welcome arch glows under street-lamps.
Beyond it, the square fills with towns-wolves—parents, pups, elders—drawn by the howls.
They stand in night-clothes, confused, staring at the line of silver-collared strangers marching into their home.
Vex skids to a stop beneath the arch.
He shifts to human-form, naked but proud, holding the chip high.
His voice carries on cold air:
"People of Pine-Paw!
I bring the key and the law.
Kneel, or face the future."
Trucks roll in behind him, headlights blazing.
Humans in white step out, forming a half-circle, guns ready.
Collared wolves sit at their sides, eyes red, waiting.
The locked silver box that once rested at Vex's paws is now under my cloak—safe, but useless if he owns the chip and the town.
Finn pulls me behind a market stall.
"We need the pack to fight, not freeze."
His voice is steady, but his paw shakes—drug and fire together.
I feel the same tremor in my bones.
I look at the silver box in my hands.
It hums, missing its twin, needing the chip to open.
But maybe it has its own voice.
I press my bleeding palm—the blood that activated the chip—against the lock.
The box warms, clicks, pops open a finger-width.
Inside, a single object: a tiny crystal vial filled with glowing blue dust—the same dust that once saved us from darts, that closed the mountain road.
Enough for one last trick.
Finn watches me, understanding sparking.
I nod.
We rise together, stepping into the light.
The towns-wolves see us, see their king alive, and some of the fear melts from their faces.
Vex spots us.
His smile widens.
"Ah, the little parents.
Come to surrender the box?"
I raise the vial instead.
"Come to end this," I answered, voice shaking but loud.
The blue dust swirls, eager.
Vex's eyes narrow.
He signals.
Collared wolves step forward, forming a wall of teeth.
Humans lift guns.
The town holds its breath.
I pull the cork.
Blue light spills into the night like liquid stars.
I pour it into my palm; it sticks to my fur, climbs my arm, circles my belly.
The babies kick, glowing faintly from inside.
Finn places his paw over mine, adding his silver spark.
Together we face the army.
Behind us, the pack begins to shift—one wolf, then ten, then fifty—fur bristling, eyes gold, not red.
A low growl rolls through the square, answering the threat.
Vex lifts the chip, ready to command.
I lift the dust, ready to protect.
Two forces, one street, one breath before clash.
Then, from the closest truck, a new figure steps out—slow, calm, hands in coat pockets.
He pushes back his hood.
My heart stops.
It's Headmaster Stone, the school principal, the one who taught us history and fair play.
He smiles at me, gentle as morning.
"Luna, dear, put the dust down.
You're going to hurt the babies."
Finn stiffens.
"Sir?
You're with them?"
Stone shrugs, almost sad.
"Someone must keep order, pup.
Vex has the key.
I have the lock.
Let's not break what still can work."
He walks past Vex, past the guns, straight toward me, hand extended, palm up, waiting for the vial.
The pack growls louder, unsure.
Even Vex looks surprised, as if this partner wasn't in his script.
I stand frozen, glowing dust swirling around my wrists, babies kicking, town watching.
Give the dust to the headmaster I once trusted, or risk everything in a fight no one may win.
Headmaster Stone stops one step away, eyes kind, voice soft:
"Choose wisely, little moon.
Your cubs' hearts beat in time with your next breath."
His fingers twitch, ready to close.
Behind him, guns wait, wolves wait, the whole world waits.
And the dust keeps climbing, higher, brighter, ticking toward release.