The words about the active Fenrir carrier in Thiago's and Zeke's blood still lingered in the air when Marco continued, his tone sharpening into something more precise, almost clinical, as though he were assembling a report.
"There's something else I need to clarify," he said, shifting his gaze from Kidd to the rest of the pack. "What happened with Thiago that night wasn't a random run toward the nearest light."
Thiago stiffened but did not look away.
"Ithilien's body produces above-average levels of oxytocin and several other neurochemical regulators," Marco went on calmly. "Her scent has a stabilizing effect. Not in a mystical sense. A biological one. For a young, unstable wolf, it signals safety. A point of regulation."
Levi frowned slightly.
"So… like a natural stabilizer?"
"Exactly," Marco nodded. "Animals are aggressive only when they perceive a threat. Riven"—he used the wolf's name, not the boy's—"didn't understand what was happening to him. A first shift is chaos. The body breaking apart and reassembling. Disconnecting and reconnecting with instinct. You know that better than I do."
Several of them nodded.
"When he caught Ithilien's scent, he moved toward it without hesitation. Instinct chose regulation. Naturally, considering that the Fenrir gene increases aggression and heightens limbic reactivity…"
He paused for a moment.
Ithilien did not so much as flinch.
"We can assume," she said evenly, cutting in, "that out of three such attempts, at least one could have ended with my death."
Her voice was clear, steady, devoid of dramatics. She wasn't accusing anyone. She wasn't blaming. She was stating a fact.
The air in the clearing seemed to grow colder.
Kidd did not speak, but he lowered his head slightly and clenched his jaw. The muscles in his shoulders tightened beneath his jacket.
No.
That option did not sit well with him at all.
Adrahil stirred deep within, a low, distant rumble.
Marco continued, as if aware they could not afford an emotional pause.
"We can also assume that Zeke's shift may follow a similar pattern. The intensity of the reaction could vary—from complete frenzy to extreme apathy. The virus doesn't act identically in everyone. We don't have full data."
Zeke swallowed but didn't step back.
"So wolves will just… run to her?" Levi asked, looking directly at Ithilien. "Because they see her as some kind of… calming agent?"
"Yes," Marco answered without hesitation. "A stable Luna—even if she is not the Luna of your pack—is, in this case, essential for regulating the behavior of young wolves. That role is not considered second only to the alpha without reason."
Kidd's expression did not change, but his focus sharpened completely.
"Unfortunately," Marco added immediately, "in an ideal world, Ithilien's presence alone would be enough to quiet aggression and stabilize the chaos. But this is not an ideal world."
"The alpha is needed as well," Ithilien said calmly. "And the entire pack. The greater the calm, discipline, and synchronization of energy, the higher the probability of regaining control quickly."
Zane narrowed his eyes.
"I have one question," he said slowly. "How do you know so much about this? You said you were only involved in the initial phase of the project."
Marco looked at his sister.
For a moment, Ithilien remained silent. In the drizzle, her pale hair clung to her cheeks. She drew a deeper breath.
"Three years ago," she began, "before the project was officially shut down, one of the wolves escaped from the research facility. It so happened that I was nearby, and…" She paused, as though weighing the next word carefully. "…and my alpha."
Absolute silence fell over the clearing.
Adrahil released a low, internal growl.
Kidd did not move, but his gaze hardened.
My alpha.
The words struck him harder than they should have.
The forest around them seemed to hold its breath.
The shift in energy was nearly invisible to the human eye, yet to the pack it was as clear as a sudden change in wind before a storm. Levi was the first to lift his head slightly higher, as if trying to catch something in the air.
More than just the scent of wet earth shifted in the air. The twins stiffened at the exact same moment, their shoulders tightening subtly as their gazes instinctively flicked toward their alpha. Zane made no obvious move, yet his posture changed—more balanced now, ready to react if necessary.
Kidd remained motionless, breathing evenly, as though Ithilien's words had stirred nothing in him at all. At first glance he looked fully composed, focused solely on the substance of the discussion. But something deeper surfaced in his eyes—something that did not belong solely to Maddox. His gaze darkened, sharpened, as if someone else had stepped forward behind his pupils.
It wasn't Maddox looking at Ithilien.
It was Adrahil.
Ithilien felt the shift immediately. She didn't need words or gestures; the air between them thickened, growing heavy in a way that was impossible to ignore. Tauriel lifted her head beneath her skin, alert and taut, responding to something invisible to others. It wasn't fear. It was readiness—an instinctive response to the concentrated force of an alpha's presence.
She did not fully understand what had triggered the change, but her body reacted faster than conscious thought. She stepped two paces to the side and half a step forward, positioning herself slightly closer to Marco, almost imperceptibly placing herself just ahead of him. The movement was subtle, yet unmistakable—her instinct had decided that, in this moment, he was the one who required protection.
The pack registered it flawlessly.
Christian's smile faded. Colton shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet. Levi exchanged a brief look with Zane. No one spoke, but every one of them waited for the alpha's cue.
Kidd saw her movement. He saw the alignment of her body, the minute adjustment that spoke louder than any declaration.
Oh, girl, I wouldn't have come for him, he thought, a trace of irony threading through it.
There was no intent to attack in him, not even true anger. What had stirred at the sound of "my alpha" was something far more primal, harder to name, and far less rational. Adrahil had reacted to belonging—to instinctive bond—to the knowledge that once, in her past, another alpha had stood at her side.
For several long seconds the air between them felt like a string drawn to its breaking point, though neither of them made a move that could be called hostile. At last, very slowly, Kidd lifted his chin, and his gaze softened by a fraction. It was enough.
The pack relaxed almost in unison, as if an invisible weight had been lifted from their shoulders.
"Continue," Kidd said calmly to Marco, and there was nothing in his voice now but control and resolve.
Yet when his eyes flicked briefly back to Ithilien, something still smoldered there that had nothing to do with Project Fenrir or biological threats.
Levi broke the silence first, his voice lower than usual, stripped of humor.
"So what do we do next?"
Marco folded his hands in front of him, as if arranging the answer carefully in his mind—one that would not incite panic, yet would not be a lie.
"First, you need to understand that although the virus sounds alarming, at its current stage it isn't a biological weapon ready to detonate," he said steadily. "From what we've observed, once the body stabilizes and undergoes a few shifts, Fenrir becomes more responsive to regulation. I assume that after the transformation stabilizes, aggression will no longer be the dominant issue."
Zeke listened with his jaw tight.
"Of course, there may be side effects," Marco continued. "Younger wolves may be faster. More resistant to pain. Regeneration could accelerate. The scope of change isn't definitive because the project was never completed—so the virus itself never reached a final form. The dose we detected in Thiago and in you is small. It's not a full sequence."
He shrugged slightly, acknowledging the absence of absolute certainty.
"I suspect someone used you as test subjects, but did not risk an open trial."
Zeke blinked.
"What does 'didn't risk an open trial' mean?" His voice rose sharply. "Someone injected us with something! And that's your version of not taking a risk?"
He moved first.
The anger came faster than it should have—faster than shock alone could explain. Marco barely had time to lift a hand before Zeke was already two steps closer, face tense, eyes too bright.
Fenrir was reacting.
Zane and Colton responded instinctively. They grabbed his arms before he could reach Marco, but Zeke jerked with a strength that seemed to surprise even him.
"Let me go!"
His muscles tightened visibly beneath his skin, the veins along his neck standing out in sharp relief. A metallic edge of adrenaline crept into his scent, sharp and acrid.
Ithilien reacted immediately—but not in the way the pack might have expected.
Instead of moving to stand beside Marco, she stepped several paces forward, deliberately increasing the distance between herself and her brother. She positioned herself to draw the young wolf's focus, careful not to create the impression that he was being cornered.
"What exactly is it that bothers you, puppy?" Her voice was cold and precise, cutting through the air more sharply than a shout.
Zeke froze for a fraction of a second, caught off guard by the direct challenge.
"That you're hearing the truth?" she continued, locking eyes with him. "Of course there was risk. Of course someone made a decision for you. But fortunately, that someone administered a minimal dose. That means your chances of survival and stabilization are very high. Not everyone had that luxury."
Her tone wasn't gentle. She didn't try to soothe him with warmth. She struck at reason.
"So I'm supposed to be grateful that someone messed with my DNA?!" Zeke exploded, trying to wrench himself free again. "Are you insane?!"
Zane and Colton tightened their grip, but his strength increased with his rising emotions.
"How do we know this isn't your doing?!" he hurled the words like stones. "You said someone did it during blood testing! So what? Why should we believe you—strangers from Montana?!"
The accusation hung in the air—heavy, volatile.
The pack fell silent.
Not because they believed him.
But because they could not entirely dismiss the possibility.
Kidd stood motionless, yet his presence shifted again. This time there was no personal tension in it—only pure, cold authority. Adrahil did not react to the provocation. He observed.
Zeke was breathing hard now, his eyes blazing with anger that was no longer entirely his own.
The forest seemed to press closer, the clearing shrinking around them.
And the question he had voiced felt more dangerous than the virus itself.
"Listen—" Marco began, attempting to regain control of the conversation, but he didn't get to finish.
A long, spasmodic growl tore from Zeke's throat. It no longer sounded entirely human. The sound was deep, rough, as if dragged up from somewhere far beneath his lungs.
Ithilien drew in a sharp breath and immediately stilled, shifting her weight subtly onto the balls of her feet. Her knees bent slightly, prepared for movement, though her face remained calm.
"Back," she ordered over her shoulder without taking her eyes off Zeke.
Levi rose without a word. Carter, in wolf form, circled wide around the clearing and stopped near Ithilien and Marco, positioning himself sideways with his muzzle angled toward Zeke. His fur bristled faintly; muscles rippled under his skin, ready to spring.
Zane and Colton still held Zeke, but their grip faltered as the boy's back arched in an unnatural curve.
Then Kidd moved.
A low growl cut through the space like a blade.
It wasn't a threat. It was dominance.
In a few swift strides he positioned himself directly in front of Zeke, forcing Zane and Colton to retreat half a step. He stood close—close enough for the young wolf to feel him physically.
"Easy," Kidd said, his voice low and steady. "There's no reason to panic. Breathe."
Zeke stared at him with wide eyes, breathing shallowly, too fast, as though the air no longer reached his lungs. A shadow of pain flickered across his face—sudden and unmistakable, like the first crack in ice.
It was beginning.