The storm had stopped, but Miller didn't leave the clearing.
The bodies lay where they fell. He hadn't planned to kill them, but when they rushed him with those glowing lanterns and sharp voices, instinct kicked in before thought. Now the forest was quiet except for water dripping from branches.
He crouched beside one of the humans. Their clothes were strange—dark fabric, built to shed water, heavier than anything he remembered. The broken lantern in the mud flickered once, then went dead. It wasn't fire. It was something else entirely, a cold type of light he didn't recognize.
He didn't understand anything here. The forest had changed too much.
Miller stood and walked toward the trees. The scents were unfamiliar. The forest still looked like the one he grew up in—same types of trees, same uneven ground—but nothing felt right. There were cuts in the trunks that looked too clean to be made by claws. The paths winding through the undergrowth were too wide, too even. Humans moved through these woods regularly.
The wolves he knew were gone.
He kept moving until the ground sloped downward. Mist hung low, making it hard to see more than a few steps ahead. As he walked, the air grew thick with unfamiliar smells—tar, rubber, oil. All sharp, artificial, and bitter.
He reached the edge of the forest and stopped.
A long, straight road cut through the land—blacker than any stone he'd ever seen. It stretched far in both directions with no break or bend. The scent coming off it was harsh enough to sting his nose.
He stepped close and touched it.
Warm. Solid. Too smooth to be natural.
A deep rumble vibrated through the ground.
Miller jumped back into the brush as a metal machine rushed past, roaring like some kind of monster. Two bright lights on its front cut through the mist, and humans sat inside it as if nothing about it was strange.
He stayed hidden until the noise faded.
Humans rode inside metal now. They traveled faster than wolves could run. The world had changed completely while he was trapped beneath the earth.
He followed the road. He didn't know where it led, but everything around him told the same story—humans were everywhere, and wolves were nowhere.
The forest thinned again, and beyond the last trees, he saw the valley.
He froze.
Where there had once been open land and hunting grounds, a massive city stood. Buildings made of stone, metal, and glass piled on top of each other, stretching higher than any tree. Smoke rose from rooftops. Lights glowed even during daylight. Loud rumbling and clashing sounds filled the air.
He stood still for a long moment, taking it in.
Humans hadn't just grown. They had taken everything.
For a moment, he considered turning back. But he had nowhere to return to. No pack. No forest left untouched. No answers waiting behind him.
So he walked down the slope toward the city.
---
He waited until dusk to enter. Human's eyesight and awareness were poorest at night. It was easier to slip in and walk among them when it's dark .
He stole a hooded jacket from a bin behind a house and pulled it on. It was damp and oversized, but it covered him enough. His bare feet still drew stares, but the city had enough strange people that most didn't bother to look twice.
The smells overwhelmed him at first.
Food. Smoke. Garbage. Sweat. Perfume.
All packed together.
Metal machines moved around everwhere. Some moved fast, others crawled along, all of them were loud. People walked everywhere, weaving around each other like they were used to this chaos.
He stuck to alleys whenever he could. They were quieter. He scavenged food from the trash bins behind shops. He eat cold meats, half-eaten bread,all sorts of things he didn't recognize. It wasn't good, but hunger didn't allow him to be picky.
While he ate, he listened.
Two guards walked past the alley entrance, carrying weapons made of black metal. Their voices carried down the narrow space.
"Another wolf sighting reported," one said.
"Thought they were extinct," the other replied.
"Tell that to the blood they found. Old packs are still out there."
Miller leaned back against the wall.
Wolves were not feared, they were bunted. Humans talked about them like pests. Nothing like the wolves he once knew. Nothing like the clans he remembered.
Kaelen's line hadn't protected the wolves. That much was clear.
He kept moving until the crowd thinned and the noise dropped enough for him to focus. The moon rose slowly above the tall buildings.
He looked for the highest tower near him.
He needed some fresh air and some space to think. He needed to find a vantage point to access his surroundings.
He grabbed the edge of a metal balcony and climbed. His long sleep had done something to his body. He was much stronger and faster then he remembered. Floor by floor, he easily pulled himself higher higher.
When he reached the top, he stood at the edge and looked out.
From up here, the city looked endless—lights stretching in every direction, smoke drifting from vents, cars tracing lines like glowing insects.
He hadn't known a world like this existed.
He faced the moon.
He didn't know why he did it. He only knew the pull in his chest hadn't stopped since waking.
He let the breath build inside him.
Then he howled.
The sound cut through the night—raw, sharp, impossible to ignore. People down below shouted. Dogs barked. Machines slowed. But Miller didn't stop.
This was the first sound of the old world the new world had heard in centuries.
He fell silent.
For a moment, there was nothing.
Then, from somewhere far off—
A faint, distant howl answered.
Miller's heartbeat kicked hard.
Not imagination.
Not memory.
A wolf.
Alive.
He stood straighter as the wind shifted across the roof.
The city wasn't empty.
Wolves had survived somewhere inside it.
And now they knew one more had returned.