The night air carried the weight of Tolu's howl across the land. It wasn't just a call—it was a proclamation. A warning. A challenge.
He stood atop a rocky outcrop, his chest rising and falling with deep, steady breaths. Below, the vast expanse of forest stretched out, its thick canopy rustling under the whisper of the wind. The village lay in uneasy silence behind him. Those who had once doubted him now whispered among themselves, sensing something had shifted.
Tolu was no longer just a boy trying to survive. He was an Alpha preparing for war.
The blood running through his veins burned with purpose, thrumming like an untamed drumbeat in his ears. He could feel it—the ancient connection between him and the land, the silent acknowledgment of the wolves that once roamed freely, untamed and unconquered.
Beside him, Kemi stood with arms crossed, her gaze thoughtful. "Do you think they heard you?"
Tolu smirked. "They did."
And he was right.
A howl answered in the distance. Then another. And another.
The response sent a shiver down his spine. These were not the voices of his uncle's pack. They were different—wild, untamed, filled with a hunger that could not be satisfied by mere survival.
His howl had not just reached those who knew him. It had awakened those who had been waiting.
The outcasts. The seekers. The ones who had no place.
The ones who would become his pack.
---
The First to Answer
Before dawn, the first of them arrived.
A boy no older than sixteen, with lean muscles and sharp, intelligent eyes. He moved with the grace of a hunter, his footsteps barely making a sound as he approached through the undergrowth. His scent was familiar, yet laced with something new—something restless.
Tolu recognized him instantly.
"Ope," he said.
The boy grinned, his fangs flashing. "I was wondering when you'd finally make your move."
Ope had once been part of the Palam Pack, but he never truly belonged. He was too independent, too unpredictable. The elders had always warned against his reckless nature, but Tolu had seen something else—potential.
"You're not scared to fight against a full pack?" Tolu asked.
Ope scoffed. "Against your uncle's pack? Please. Those cowards have been living in luxury for too long. They've forgotten what it means to fight for something real."
Tolu nodded. He had chosen wisely.
By midday, two more arrived.
A girl with deep brown skin and piercing amber eyes, her arms wrapped in bandages from old fights. She carried the scent of wolfsbane, meaning she had survived an attack from hunters.
"My name's Fola," she said, crossing her arms. "If you're looking for fighters, I'm in."
The last was a broad-shouldered young man, taller than any of them, with a quiet but imposing presence. His name was Jide, and though he said little, the weight of his gaze spoke volumes.
Tolu felt something stir inside him as he looked at them.
Four wolves. Four warriors.
It was small, but it was a start.
"We're not enough to fight a whole pack," Kemi murmured, standing beside him.
Tolu clenched his fists. "We don't need to be. Not yet."
---
The Truth in Blood
That night, the group sat around a fire, their faces illuminated by the flickering flames.
Tolu watched them carefully. These were not ordinary wolves. They had no pack, no stability. They were survivors, each carrying their own scars.
But if they were going to stand together, they needed more than a common enemy.
They needed trust.
"I know why you're here," Tolu began, his voice low but firm. "You want revenge. You want freedom. You want a place to belong."
The fire crackled. No one spoke, but their eyes never left him.
"I won't lie to you," he continued. "This won't be easy. My uncle is strong. His pack is larger than we can handle right now. If we attack recklessly, we'll be slaughtered."
Ope leaned forward. "Then what's the plan?"
Tolu took a deep breath. "We don't fight them head-on. Not yet. We hit them where it hurts. We make them bleed. We remind them that they stole something that doesn't belong to them."
Fola smirked. "Sounds like fun."
Jide simply nodded.
Kemi, however, was watching Tolu carefully. "And how do we know we can trust you?"
Tolu met her gaze. "Because I trust you first."
He raised his hand and, without hesitation, dragged his claw across his palm. Blood welled up, dark and rich under the firelight.
The others stiffened, watching as he extended his bleeding hand toward them.
"This isn't just a fight," he said. "This is a bond. A promise. We are not just rebels. We are a pack. And a pack stands together—always."
For a moment, no one moved.
Then, Ope grinned and cut his own palm. "I've been waiting for something like this."
Fola followed. Then Jide.
Finally, Kemi sighed and made the cut, pressing her hand against the others.
The blood mixed.
And in that moment, the pack was born.
---
The First Strike
The night was silent as they moved. Shadows against the moonlit trees. Silent as death.
Tolu led them through the forest, his senses razor-sharp. He could feel the change within him—the bond of the pack thrumming in his veins.
Ahead, they spotted the first target.
A supply outpost, guarded by two of his uncle's wolves.
Tolu signaled, and they moved as one.
Ope struck first, a blur of speed and claws. The first guard barely had time to react before he was down.
Fola was next, her movements swift and brutal. The second guard let out a strangled cry before collapsing.
Jide and Kemi secured the area while Tolu stepped forward, looking at the supplies. Weapons, food, medicine—everything his uncle's pack relied on.
He turned to the others.
"Burn it," he said.
They didn't hesitate.
As flames engulfed the supplies, the sky filled with smoke. The message was clear.
This was no longer his uncle's land.
This was war.
And it had only just begun.