He whips around at the sound of my steps, eyes wide, whites showing too bright. His fur is ragged from shifting too fast, from snapping in and out of human shape. He stumbles backward until his heels hit a fallen log.
He shifts back. “Jason. Jason, please don’t.” His voice cracks in the human shape, too high and too desperate. “The alphas… they said if I came back they’d?—”
“I’m not the alphas,” I say quietly.
His breath comes out in ragged bursts. “You’re gonna kill me. I know you are.”
I step forward slowly. “I’m not here to kill you.”
He snarls in fear, not anger, and launches himself at me anyway.
The fight is fast. Messy. It breaks my heart.
He slashes wildly, every movement screaming panic rather than technique. I dodge the first swipe, block the second. He catches my arm on the third, nails raking shallowly, but enough to sting.
“Stop,” I bark.
He doesn’t.
I grab him by the scruff of his shirt, or what’s left of it, and slam him down just hard enough to pin him, not hurt him. My knee presses into his shoulder. His chest heaves.
“Stop,” I repeat.
His voice breaks. “Are you… are you gonna finish it? Like the alphas would’ve?”
“No,” I say firmly. “I’m not them.”
He trembles. “Then what are you gonna do?”
The thing I never wanted to do. The thing he forced me to do. The thing that breaks my heart even more.
“Look at me, Freddie.”
He lifts his head, eyes wild, wet, terrified.
“This is exile,” I say softly. “The real one. Not what the alphas did. This one means something.”
His breathing stops. Just stops.
“No,” he whispers. “Jason, please… you can’t… you can’t…”
“I have to.” My voice cracks. It physically hurts to say it.
“If you never change, never learn the true meaning of being a wolf, you will live with this mark forever.”
His lip trembles as he shakes his head violently, like he can deny reality if he moves fast enough.
“You still don’t get it,” I say. “You betrayed us. You put Violet in danger. You brought death to our door. That mark on your shoulder? That was supposed to remind you of what we survived. What we lost.”
I extend one claw. Just one.
His eyes go huge. “Jason… don’t.”
“This will remind you,” I continue, the words burning my throat, “of who we are. Of what we’re building. Of the pack we could’ve been together.”
My claw glows faintly with heat as I lower it to his shoulder, right where the exile brand lies. I press the claw into his skin, and a scream rips out of him.
I grit my teeth and deepen the mark. Smoke curls up from the wound. The air fills with the sharp scent of burned skin and wolf magic. Magic I never knew I was capable of. Froggy thrashes, crying, cursing, begging. But I don’t stop. Not until the mark is bone deep. Not until every line is carved with meaning. Not until it’s true.
