My Werewolf System

Chapter 1558: The Truth Beneath the Mountain

After his talk with Jack, Steve didn’t waste any time. He left the Redwing Kingdom behind, traveling alone through the mountain paths that led back to his own pack’s territory. His mind, however, was far from calm.

The night air was sharp and cool, the kind that cut through even a werewolf’s skin. His thoughts twisted and tangled like smoke in the wind. It wasn’t just Rogan that weighed on him, it was everything. What Jack had built lingered in his head like a haunting dream.

He had always wanted to change the way werewolves lived, to make peace possible between them and humans. But Jack had done it, he had created that vision from the ground up. While Steve was still trying to change a single pack, Jack had built an entire kingdom.

Still, Steve couldn’t let that discourage him. My path is my own, he thought. Jack built something great, but that doesn’t mean what I’m doing is meaningless. My mission still matters.

Even as he convinced himself, his brother’s words continued to echo in his ears.

If they didn’t arrive… something’s wrong.

The image of those missing werewolves, young, hopeful faces, wouldn’t leave his mind. He needed to know what happened. He needed to hear it directly from Rogan.

‘You’d better tell me the truth, Rogan,’ he thought grimly. ‘Because if you don’t… I’ll find it myself.’

When he finally returned to the mountain stronghold, a familiar sight greeted him. The large stone walls rose high into the mist, jagged cliffs curling around the camp like protective arms. It was an impressive base, and in its own way, beautiful. Compared to the Redwing Kingdom, though, it felt colder, more like a fortress than a home.

The number of werewolves here was nearly the same as in Redwing. But their spirits felt different. The energy in the air was heavy, restrained. Even the laughter that sometimes echoed through the camp carried a trace of unease.

“This place… it’s a sanctuary,” Steve muttered under his breath. “But it’s also a cage.”

He descended into the camp.

“Steve! He’s back!” someone called out.

The moment the others noticed him, several rushed forward, excitement flickering in their eyes. Many of them had been rescued by him in the past, and Steve was one of the few they all trusted. He had earned that loyalty.

But as he passed, their smiles began to fade.

“What happened?” one whispered. “He’s alone.”

“That’s never happened before.”

“Look at his face,” another murmured. “Something’s wrong.”

The whispers followed him like a shadow. Normally, Steve would have stopped to talk to them, to ease their worries. But not this time. His expression said everything, it wasn’t the face of a man returning from success.

‘I thought I was good at hiding my emotions,’ Steve thought as he climbed the mountain steps. ‘Guess not. That doesn’t bode well for what’s coming next.’

He reached the upper platform where Rogan resided, the heart of the pack’s operations. The large oval-shaped building stood firm against the wind, its stone walls marked by years of wear. Pulling back the heavy cloth that served as a door, Steve stepped inside.

Rogan sat at his desk, hunched over parchment, his hand gliding smoothly as he wrote. The room smelled faintly of ink and wolf hide. Without looking up, he spoke in his usual deep, commanding tone.

“You’re back.”

Steve said nothing, watching the Alpha work. Rogan’s hand moved steadily, his attention fixed on the papers in front of him.

“I know you’ve been busy,” Rogan continued. “Our group’s been getting more requests lately. Some of the kingdoms have started recognizing us, our strength as mercenaries. That reputation is useful. It’ll help us find more Omegas, too. Their numbers are dwindling.”

Still, Steve didn’t answer.

The silence stretched long enough for Rogan to pause mid-sentence. His pen stilled. Though he hadn’t looked up, he could feel Steve’s presence, the tension radiating from him like heat.

Slowly, Rogan raised his head. Steve stood rigid in the doorway, fists clenched tight at his sides, his eyes cold and burning with something dangerous.

“What?” Rogan asked, his lips curling into the faintest snarl. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Steve’s voice came out low, steady, but trembling with restraint. “What did you do?”

Rogan’s eyes narrowed.

“I want the truth,” Steve said, stepping forward. “The people who asked to leave the pack, the ones who wanted to go outside, what did you do to them, Rogan? Don’t lie to me. I’ll know if you do.”

The Alpha exhaled through his nose, then slowly placed his pen down beside the ink bottle. Leaning back in his chair, he regarded Steve carefully, almost curiously.

“What do you think I did?” Rogan asked. His tone was calm at first, but there was a dangerous edge beneath it. “Do you have any idea what it means to lead this pack, Steve? The pressure I face every day, protecting every single one of them?”

His voice rose, rumbling through the chamber. “Everything I’ve done has been for them, for us. To create a safe haven where werewolves can live without fear. You think it’s easy?”

Steve said nothing, his jaw tightening.

“They didn’t just ask to leave the pack,” Rogan continued, his voice gaining strength. “They asked to leave me. To join another pack, another Alpha. Do you understand what that means?”

He stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.

“In the past, the only threat I had to worry about was humans,” Rogan went on. “Now there’s another Alpha out there. Another leader building his own empire. You know how this ends, Steve. All through history, two Alphas have always clashed. There can never be peace between us. Those wolves you’re asking about, they weren’t just leaving. They were betraying everything we built here!”

His hand lashed out, striking the table hard enough to rattle the ink pot. “They chose to side with those who would destroy us!”

Steve’s knuckles went white as he clenched his fists. He understood Rogan’s fear, even sympathized with it, but none of it justified what he was starting to suspect. Why hadn’t Rogan told him any of this? Why hadn’t they talked, worked it out together like they had before?

And then came the final question.

“I’m asking you one last time,” Steve said, his voice trembling with fury. “What did you do to them, Rogan?”

The air in the room turned heavy. Even the sound of the wind outside seemed to vanish.

Rogan’s gaze hardened. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, with a voice as cold and sharp as a blade, he answered.

Rogan didn’t flinch. He stood firm, his decision already made, his conviction unshaken. “I did what had to be done,” he said quietly.

“I killed them.”

****

(Note: Things are better now, but my medication has been making me incredibly sleepy, there will be another chapter in an hour or so.)

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