My Fault

Alana's POV

I could barely breathe. My knees dug into the cold dirt, my fingers curled into fists as I stared at the lifeless forms of my parents. Their faces, once so strong, so full of command were nothing but charred remnants of who they had been. The scent of burnt flesh clung to the air, thick and suffocating.

This was my fault.

I had run away, I had left them. And now… now there was nothing left.

A sob tore from my throat, raw and painful, but the world didn't stop for my grief. Around me, the surviving villagers huddled together, their faces streaked with soot, their eyes hollow with loss. Some murmured prayers to the Moon Goddess, others simply stood in stunned silence.

Then, the silence shattered.

A low, guttural growl rumbled through the air, sending a shiver down my spine. I snapped my head up, my pulse quickening as I saw them.

Wolves.

Not my pack. Not my people.

They were strangers.

They emerged from the tree line like ghosts, their black and gray coats blending into the fog that curled around the ruins. Their eyes gleamed with something cruel, something unnatural.

And leading them was a man, his face shadowed by the flickering light of the still-smoldering castle.

It was him, I felt my heart stutter. It was Pack.

The same man I had saved. The man I had hidden, fed and even protected.

He was here.

But he wasn't alone.

He wasn't the desperate, injured rogue I had found in the river side that day. He wasn't the man who had whispered his gratitude as I pressed bandages to his wounds.

No.

He was their leader.

He moved with the authority of an Alpha, his posture straight, his dark eyes scanning the destruction with no emotion.

My breath hitched.

"What…" My voice cracked as I tried to form words. "What are you doing here?"

Pack's gaze landed on me, cold and impassive. For a moment, I swore something flickered in his eyes, it seemed like regret or maybe it was just hesitation. But then it was gone, replaced by something darker.

"You should have stayed gone, Alana." His voice was deeper than I remembered, rougher.

I pushed myself to my feet, my legs trembling but holding firm. "Did you do this?"

A muscle in his jaw twitched. "You shouldn't ask questions you don't want answers to."

The world tilted.

I wanted to believe I had misheard him. That this was all some twisted misunderstanding, that he wasn't standing here, surrounded by warriors who were now dragging the last surviving members of my pack out of the wreckage.

I turned, my stomach churning as I saw the elders, the wounded adults and the children. They were being rounded up like cattle, their expressions filled with fear.

"Stop," I whispered, but my voice was weak, lost in the chaos.

I turned back to Pack, stepping forward despite the way my hands trembled. "You promised me." My voice cracked. "You swore…."

"I swore nothing," he cut me off. His expression remained unreadable, but I swore I saw something like guilt? Pain?

Then, just as quickly, it was gone.

"This is war, Alana," he said simply, as if that excused the blood on his hands.

My mind reeled. My father had always spoken of the tensions between packs, the delicate balance of power that kept us from outright war. But this? This was a massacre.

I clenched my fists. "They're innocent."

He exhaled sharply, as if my words frustrated him. "No one is innocent in war."

Anger boiled beneath my grief, hot and overwhelming. "You were nothing when I found you," I hissed. "You were just a weak dying wolf. You would have died without me."

Something flickered across his face, but he masked it quickly. "And yet, here I am."

I felt like I was drowning. This wasn't the man I had saved. This wasn't the person I had risked everything for.

I took another step closer, my voice shaking but firm. "Let them go."

Pack's eyes darkened. "I can't do that."

"Won't do that, you mean."

His jaw tightened. "This isn't your fight anymore, Alana. So just leave."

I let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "You think I can just walk away?"

"You did before."

The words were a slap to the face.

I swallowed hard, forcing the lump in my throat down. "I left because I had no choice." My voice softened, barely above a whisper. "If I had known…" My voice broke. "I would have stayed."

Something in his expression cracked, just for a moment. But then, a soldier approached, bowing his head. "Alpha, what do we do with them?"

I stiffened as I watched Pack's gaze shift to the captured villagers.

He hesitated.

That hesitation was enough.

I took a step toward him, lowering my voice so only he could hear. "They're innocent."

His hands curled into fists.

"You owe me," I pushed. "You owe them."

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.

Then, he exhaled through his nose and turned to his men. "Take them to the northern border," he commanded.

I blinked.

"They'll live," he added, almost grudgingly.

A shaky breath escaped me as relief coursed through my veins.

It wasn't much. But it was something.

His men began moving, dragging the survivors toward the outskirts of the ruined village. I didn't know where they'd go, how they'd survive, but at least they had a chance.

When they were gone, only Pack and I remained, standing among the ruins of what had once been my home.

I looked at him, really looked at him.

"Why?" I whispered.

Pack stared at me for a long moment. Then, finally, he spoke.

"Because I owe you."

And with that, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows of the forest, leaving me standing in the wreckage of my past.

Alone.