The Banished Lycans Chapter 3: The Long Fangs part 2 of 2

Part 3: Sarah

"Yes, werewolves do transform on the full moon, but technically you're not a werewolf. You are a Lycanthrope—a bastardized amalgamation of the Native American Skin Walker."— Long Fang, speaking to newly turned lycans

I stared into Izzy’s golden-brown eyes. Her wolf form was powerful, her fur a mix of black and brown, her muscular frame built for battle. Even though we were the same height, her muscles were more defined, rippling beneath her fur. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, we had both shifted back into our human forms.

Izzy stood before me, about the same height, but there was a distinct difference in our builds. She was African American, her body sculpted like an MMA fighter—muscles toned and firm, but she carried herself with an effortless grace. Her black hair was cut short, and her resting eye color, a deep golden brown, reflected a life lived hard and fast. You could tell just by looking at her that she had been through more than most, her gaze sharp, hardened by experience. Though still slim, her form was carved by years of fighting, survival etched into every inch of her frame.

She was a force to be reckoned with, and even in human form, there was no denying the raw power beneath her skin.

Izzy let go of my hands and sized me up with a critical eye. “Okay, New Blood, you’ve got the basics down so far. Now, let’s try another trick he taught me—manifesting individual parts of the wolf. You already did it once, remember? You manifested your claws. Now, let’s do it deliberately.”

On cue, Izzy raised her hand, and in an instant, black and brown fur covered her hand up to her forearm. Her fingers shifted, extending into sharp, vicious claws—deadly weapons ready at her command. The transformation was fluid, controlled. She made it look Acting like a demented cheerleader.effortless.

“See?” she said, flexing her clawed hand. “It’s all about intention. Focus on one part of your body and will it to change. You can do this. Just imagine your claws again.”

Her eyes locked onto mine, a challenge clear in her gaze.

Soon this will be like breathing izzy said She paired at her earlier statement, saying.Imagine it near mind and will it into being.

I closed my eyes, concentrating hard, picturing the claws sprouting from my fingertips. It wasn’t easy—it took time, and I could feel the effort in every fiber of my being. Slowly, I felt the change, the sensation of my nails sharpening, extending into something far more dangerous. When I opened my eyes, the claws were there, gleaming in the dim light.

Izzy, true to form, gave me a grin, acting like a demented cheerleader. “Hell yeah, New Blood! That’s what I’m talking about! Look at those bad boys!” She clapped her hands together, her excitement almost infectious. “I knew you had it in you. Now you’re starting to get the hang of it!”

Her enthusiasm was borderline wild, but I couldn’t help but smirk at her energy.

“Ok,” Izzy said, flexing both her hands, her claws fully extended. “Have you fought before?”

I met her gaze, shrugging slightly. “A few times. Remember, I was raised to be a lady.” I let out a small laugh. “But yeah, I’ve scraped with other girls when things got heated. And I definitely kicked a guy in the balls for getting too handsy.”

Izzy grinned, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “Well, that’s a start. But fighting as a Lycan, it’s a whole different game. It’s not about fancy moves or being polite—it’s about survival. You’re stronger now, faster, and those claws aren’t just for show. You’ve got to learn how to use them, to really control the beast in a fight.”

Fang always said the beast is like a caged animal," Izzy explained, pacing slowly around me. Her voice was steady, but the intensity in her eyes made it clear she wasn’t just talking—she was warning me. "You can keep it locked up for a while, sure, but if you don’t let it out willingly, it’ll break free when you least expect it, and you won’t be in control."

I nodded, listening carefully, the weight of her words sinking in deeper than I wanted to admit.

"You can walk around in your wolf form here in the caves," she continued, her eyes never leaving mine. "But out there in the world, among humans? You better have full control. Eventually, you’ll have to go back to get supplies, to blend in again, and if you don’t have mastery over the wolf, it’ll ruin everything."

Izzy stopped in front of me, her gaze hard. "The real fight is mastering your emotions—hate, rage, anger—because if you let those guide you, the beast will feed off them, and once it does, it’ll take over. It’s like fuel for the fire. You can’t let it burn out of control."

I swallowed hard, realizing just how delicate the balance was.

"That’s why they say the full moon forces the change," she added, her tone more serious. "You’ve got about one cycle before the wolf has to come out. If you stay human for too long, the beast will claw its way free, and by then, it’s too late. You’ll lose control."

Her words hung heavy in the air, and I knew she was right. It wasn’t just about surviving—it was about staying ahead of the beast inside me.

Izzy crossed her arms, her gaze becoming serious as she leaned in closer. "We’ll go over more of this later, New Blood, but right now, we need to talk about the most important rule... no, the law."

Her tone shifted, and I could feel the gravity of what she was about to say. "The rules of the Masquerade. If you break these, Fang and others like him—beings far more powerful than you can imagine—will hunt you down. And they won’t hesitate to kill you."

I swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing down on me like a lead blanket.

"The laws of the Masquerade have been in effect for as long as time itself. They exist to protect our kind from exposure. If humanity ever learns what we are, there would be chaos—wars, hunts, purges. The balance would be shattered."

Izzy took a deep breath and continued. "You must never reveal your true nature to humans. No transformations in public, no using your abilities where someone might see. You slip up, even once, and the consequences are dire. The Masquerade isn’t just some guideline, it’s survival. Break it, and you’ll be signing your own death warrant."

Izzy’s expression grew very serious for a moment, her eyes narrowing as if weighing the gravity of everything I had just taken in. I could feel the weight of her words settle into my chest, and I nodded, understanding more than I wanted to admit. "I think I get it... I have to master myself."

Izzy nodded, her tone softening but still firm. "Exactly. You can’t let the beast control you. I’ll teach you everything I know, and if you ever need help, don’t hesitate to ask any of the pack members. We’re all in this together. And Fang... he may be standoffish, but he’s our alpha. If there’s something none of us can help with, go to him when he’s available."

Her words gave me a strange sense of reassurance. I wasn’t alone in this, even if it felt that way at times. This pack was my new family, and learning to navigate this world with them was the key to survival.

Izzy’s eyes glowed golden-brown, a mischievous glint dancing in them as she broke the tension. “That’s enough serious talk, New Blood. Let’s do what wolves do best.” She gave me a toothy grin, her fangs slightly visible as she continued, “We got one moose. We got a deer. But we need more meat to feed the pack.”

Her gaze flicked to the forest beyond, then back to me. “You think you can turn again? Full body transformation this time. We burned off a lot of energy, and I’m getting hungry.”

I took a deep breath, already feeling the adrenaline rising again. The challenge was clear in her tone, and though I was still getting the hang of controlling the beast, the thrill of the hunt called to me. I nodded, ready to push myself further.

“Let’s do this,” I said, feeling the pulse of energy building in my muscles.

Izzy’s voice was calm and collected just a moment ago, but now I picked up a hint of bloodthirst in her tone.

“Focus on your senses. I can smell it already. There’s a few deer close by. Lock on to them, and let’s go.”

I followed her instructions, closing my eyes and concentrating on the forest around us. I could hear the faint rustling of leaves, and then, there it was—the scent. The smell of prey drifted toward me, sharp and distinct, filling my nostrils. The spirit of the hunt entered my mind, and with a shared understanding, we shot off like spurred horses. The rush of the chase surged through me, and I felt the wolf stirring, eager to be set free.

I didn’t fight it this time. I embraced it.

As I ran, I imagined the wild freedom of the wolf, its unrestrained power, and I let it take hold. The transformation began, and I dropped to all fours, my clawed hands sinking into the dirt. My legs carved deep ruts as they pounded the earth with each powerful stride, the forest blurring around me as I gave in to the primal force within.

I was no longer just running—I was hunting.

Izzy and i ran next to each other. My eyes scanned the earth Ahead of me, the color fading needs the background. I saw a cloud the Primal part of my brain was.visualizing the.ssmells of the prey I hunt.

I move Effortlessly moved around trees Rocks. My Movements graceful like a river moving through the forest around the obstacles. Izzy thoughts rang in my head. She told me to go around them and funal them twords are other kills it will be less work bringing them home after.

Izzy and I ran side by side, our bodies moving in perfect sync with the rhythm of the hunt. My vision sharpened, the colors of the forest fading into the background as my focus zeroed in on the prey ahead. I could practically see the scents in the air, swirling like a cloud, guiding me straight toward the deer. The primal part of my mind took over, visualizing the movements of the animals I was chasing—how they’d scatter, how they’d try to flee.

I moved effortlessly around the trees and rocks, my body flowing like a river, adapting to the terrain as if the forest itself was bending to my will. Every obstacle was a mere ripple in the path, nothing could slow me down. The hunt was everything—pure, instinctive, and alive.

Izzy’s thoughts rang clearly in my mind. “Go around them. Funnel them toward our other kills. Less work bringing them home after.”

I veered off to the right, circling around the herd. My feet barely touched the ground as I darted between trees, the smell of fear from the deer becoming more intense. I could sense them, their frantic heartbeats pounding in the earth. I surged forward, anticipating their next move.

Izzy flanked them from the other side, and together, we funneled them in, driving them toward the site of our earlier kills. The pack mentality took over, and everything felt right—each movement precise, every step perfectly in tune with hers.

The deer didn’t stand a chance.

Now izzy Shouted to our mental link my feet.my feet and hands pounded into the earth.Cindy me forward and I tackleda stout buck.My jaws going around its neck and twisting. I felt its neck break as it collapsed to the earth like a marionette with its strings cut. Izzy Tackled another Like mindedly breaking its neck.

We returned to the site of our earlier kills, each of us hauling a deer over our powerful shoulders with ease. The weight didn’t bother us—not anymore. As we approached the moose, I saw the remnants of my earlier frenzy: three-quarters of the massive creature still remained, its body sprawled across the ground like a testament to the force I had unleashed. Nearby lay the other deer, its lifeless form a reminder of the hunt's success.

Without a word, we prepared to head back. Izzy and I hoisted our spoils, dragging the moose and deer behind us, the forest floor scraping beneath the weight of our kills. The scent of blood and fresh earth clung to the air as we moved steadily through the woods, our bodies attuned to the rhythm of the wild.

As we moved through the trees, the exhilaration of the hunt still thrummed beneath my skin, and I could feel the satisfaction of the wolf within me. We had fed the pack—our pack—and with each step, I felt a deeper connection to this new life.

Izzy caught my eye as we made our way back, and through our shared link, she simply said, "Good hunt, New Blood."

And for the first time, I felt like I truly belonged.

About halfway back to the cave, like moths drawn to a flame, two of our brethren appeared from the shadows to help with our spoils. Their forms materialized from the dense underbrush, silent and swift, their eyes gleaming in the dim light. Without a word, they each took hold of one of the deer, lightening the load on our shoulders.

"Looks like you two had a productive hunt," one of them said through the mental link, his voice tinged with approval.

"Fang will be pleased," the other added, his gaze shifting to the moose, still mostly intact despite the carnage I had caused earlier.

I nodded, sharing a silent acknowledgment with Izzy. The presence of our packmates felt right, like pieces falling into place. Together, as a pack, we continued our journey back to the cave, our kills dragging behind us, the weight now shared. The scent of fresh blood lingered in the air, mixing with the earth and the scent of the woods, a reminder of the bond that now united us all.

Part 4. The bigger picture

When the girls returned to the cave system that housed the pack, Long Fang stood waiting for them, his towering form casting a shadow over the entrance. His sharp eyes took in the sight of the new blood, Sarah, carrying her share of the spoils. An approving smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Fang approached them, his gaze settling on Sarah with evident satisfaction. Though she had only been a werewolf for a short time, her ability to perform a full-body transformation and maintain control over it impressed him greatly. Few newly turned lycans could manage such control so soon after their change, but Sarah had done it with surprising ease.

He gave her a nod, the silent acknowledgment speaking volumes. She wasn’t just surviving—she was thriving. Fang’s approval was rare and hard-earned, and in that moment, Sarah knew she had earned her place among the pack.

“She’s got promise,” Fang finally said, his voice a deep rumble. “She’ll make an excellent addition to the pack.”

Like all things do, time marched on. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and before anyone realized, a full year had passed. Sarah Caliban had become Sarah Fang, earning the name through countless hunts, battles, and the loyalty she’d shown to the pack. Her transformation wasn’t just physical; it was spiritual. She had embraced her new life, her new family, and the power that surged through her blood. The young woman who had once been haunted by her father’s cruelty was now a force to be reckoned with, a wolf among wolves.

And in that year, a bond grew between Sarah and Izzy that was stronger than blood. They became inseparable, thick as thieves, true sisters in every sense of the word. It was rare to see one without the other, whether they were hunting, training, or simply sharing stories by the fire. They balanced each other—Izzy’s sharp wit and fire complimenting Sarah’s newfound strength and fierce loyalty. Together, they were unstoppable, carving their place within the pack with ferocity and grace.

Time passed relentlessly, as days flowed into weeks, weeks merged into months, and eventually, years slipped away without pause or respite. The passage of time brought changes, growth, and new experiences, etching their mark on our lives.

With each passing day, Sarah and Izzy honed their skills as lycans, refining their control over the primal power that surged within them. The transformations became smoother, no longer dictated by pure instinct, but by will and discipline. The thrill of running with the pack, of feeling the earth beneath their paws, became a controlled force, something they commanded with confidence.

Their bond with the pack grew stronger, and they became an integral part of its fabric, sharing in its triumphs and shouldering its burdens. What once felt like an alien existence now became second nature. The camaraderie deepened, their lives interwoven with those of their packmates, their victories and losses felt as one.

The pack was more than just a collection of individuals; it became their family, their home—a sanctuary in a world that often misunderstood and feared them. In the quiet moments between hunts, as they sat around the fire or trained under the moonlight, there was a shared understanding that they were more than just monsters. They were bound by something ancient and powerful, and they had each other to rely on.

During their time together, Sarah and Izzy dedicated themselves to sharpening both mind and body. Izzy took it upon herself to teach Sarah the hand-to-hand combat styles that Fang had imparted to her, a fusion of techniques influenced by the Apache, Iroquois, and Cheyenne tribes, each contributing their unique strategies to combat.

The Apache techniques, with their emphasis on agility and swift strikes, were designed to overwhelm opponents quickly. Iroquois teachings centered on fluid movement, employing circular motions to redirect attacks and outmaneuver adversaries. The Cheyenne methods focused on grounding and powerful strikes, relying on strength to overpower with decisive blows. Together, these styles formed a lethal combination that suited the two women’s different strengths.

Sarah and Izzy immersed themselves in the training, tirelessly practicing stances, strikes, and defensive maneuvers. They pushed themselves to the limit, their reflexes sharpened and their bodies tuned for combat. The repetition became a rhythm, each session blending the styles into something personal to their strengths.

Fang would occasionally join them, adding layers of wisdom and refining their technique. His knowledge, drawn from centuries of wandering and learning from nearly every Native American tribe, enriched the training. When he took a hands-on approach, his movements were fluid, displaying the foundational elements of these ancient martial arts. At other times, he stepped back, allowing them to grapple with the deeper principles on their own.

These sessions were more than just physical; they grounded Sarah and Izzy in the spirit of survival, shaping them into a powerful force.

As Fang demonstrated the fluid movements of Apache knife fighting, Sarah watched intently, the weight of the blade resting heavy in her hand. After a few moments, she couldn’t help but speak up, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Why would we need weapons like this?" Sarah asked, her voice filled with curiosity. "We have claws, don’t we? Isn’t that enough?"

Fang paused, glancing at Sarah with a knowing smile. He twirled his knife effortlessly in his hand before sheathing it with precision.

"Good question, New Blood," Fang said, his voice steady and filled with a kind of patience earned from centuries of experience. "Our claws are powerful, yes. They make us formidable hunters, but they can’t put down everything we might face."

Izzy, standing nearby, gave Sarah a quick look but remained silent, waiting for Fang’s full response.

Fang continued, his tone more serious. "There are creatures out there—some of our own kind, some far worse—that can shrug off claw marks like they’re nothing more than scratches. For them, you’ll need something more—silver for certain creatures, iron for others. Weapons become necessary when our natural abilities aren’t enough."

Sarah tilted her head slightly, considering his words. "But if we're hunting our own... why not just use our claws?"

Fang stepped closer, his eyes meeting Sarah’s. "Sometimes we have to hunt our own, and that’s the hardest part. Our claws might not always be enough when you’re dealing with another Lycan or something even stronger. The knife," he tapped the hilt of the blade at his side, "gives you an edge. With it, you can hit vital spots faster and with more precision than your claws ever could."

He gestured towards the knife in her hand. "Silver for those who need it. Iron for those ancient beings who fear its touch. Our claws won’t always be enough, Sarah. When you face what’s coming, you’ll be grateful for every tool you have."

Sarah looked down at the knife in her hand, the weight of it now feeling much heavier. Fang’s words settled into her mind, the gravity of what they were learning becoming all the more real.

"I see," she finally said, nodding slowly. "It's about being prepared for everything... not just what we know."

"Exactly," Fang said, his voice softening slightly. "When you’re hunting, never assume your claws will be enough. Always be ready for more."

Part 4.5 Izzy

As the year drew to a close, Sarah had grown into a formidable warrior, her skills and confidence soaring high. But like Icarus, she flew too close to the sun, testing boundaries she didn't fully understand. She had sparred with other pack members before, but now she stood against Fang—the Alpha himself. And in her rising ambition, she sought to challenge him in a way that no one dared.

The pack gathered in the clearing, the air thick with tension, as Sarah and Fang faced each other. Sarah's eyes gleamed with determination, and Fang’s stoic expression conveyed the wisdom of countless battles. Their clash began without hesitation, each movement precise and deadly. Fang aimed high, throwing powerful strikes with the force of a seasoned fighter, but Sarah was faster, weaving between his blows with the speed that came naturally to her wolf form.

Fang smirked, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “You’re fast, I’ll give you that,” he taunted, his voice carrying a cold edge. “But speed won’t save you, New Blood.”

Sarah didn’t reply, her focus locked onto his every movement. She delivered a swift kick to Fang’s legs, followed by a graceful spin, striking him with surprising force. Fang stumbled slightly but quickly recovered, his eyes narrowing with a mix of anger and amusement.

“You think that’s enough to take me down?” Fang growled, his voice low and threatening.

He lashed out with a left hook, then a right jab, but Sarah blocked his attacks with ease, delivering a rapid one-two punch in return. The pack watched in awe as Fang spit blood, a sign that Sarah’s training had paid off.

But Fang was the Alpha for a reason.

With a calculated move, he swept his leg upward, landing a kick squarely to Sarah's chest. The force sent her sprawling to the ground, gasping for air. She let out a frustrated growl, slamming her fist into the earth before springing back to her feet. Her eyes flashed a bright pink, a warning sign to anyone who knew her growing temper. Fang smirked again, this time with a hint of menace.

“Getting angry won’t help you, pup,” Fang sneered, his eyes glinting with savage amusement. “Anger makes you reckless.”

Sarah darted around him, her speed allowing her to circle like a predator waiting for an opening. She danced around him, launching an array of attacks. A left hook followed by a spin, aimed at catching Fang off guard, but he anticipated her move. With a sharp elbow to her temple, he sent Sarah crashing to the ground once again. She lay still for a moment, her breathing ragged, before rising once more—her resolve unwavering.

“You should stay down, Sarah,” Fang said, his voice a growl of warning. “You’re not ready for this.”

Sarah’s only response was a snarl, her lips curling back as she prepared for another assault. They continued to clash, blow after blow, neither willing to back down. Fang, relying on his experience and weight, aimed to wear her down, his strikes growing heavier with each exchange. Sarah, using every ounce of agility she had, managed to dodge many of his blows, but even her quick reflexes couldn't save her from the crushing power of his attacks.

A devastating punch sent Sarah flying backward, skidding across the dirt. Blood trickled down her face, her lip split open, and a deep scratch ran across her cheek. But instead of retreating, she let out a primal growl, her body trembling with rage. She charged again, her speed catching Fang off guard as she darted past his defenses, landing several sharp blows.

Fang, now genuinely angry, let out a feral snarl. “Enough playing,” he hissed, his tone filled with fury.

He lashed out with greater force, throwing wild strikes and slashes. Sarah fought back fiercely, her claws extended, but she was tiring. Fang’s strength and years of experience began to show. Finally, one of his hits landed hard, sending her crashing to the ground with a sickening thud. A collective gasp escaped from the pack as Sarah struggled to rise.

But she refused to stay down.

Roaring with fury, she leapt back into the fray, her movements now more desperate, more savage. They transformed, fur sprouting from their bodies as they shifted into their beast forms. Snarling and growling, they circled each other, claws bared and teeth flashing. The intensity of their fight left the onlookers spellbound—this was a battle not just of strength, but of will.

Yet, it was clear that Sarah was outmatched. Fang’s blows were precise and punishing, each one driving her further toward defeat. When he struck her ribs, the sound of bones breaking reverberated through the clearing. Sarah let out a howl of pain but, stubborn as ever, tried to rise again. Fang didn’t give her the chance. He delivered a vicious kick to her side, sending her sprawling, broken and bleeding.

Fang returned to his human form, towering over Sarah as he shifted seamlessly back to the man beneath the beast. His chest heaved with the remnants of fury, his eyes still gleaming with predatory intensity. Fang growled, his voice a deep rumble that reverberated through the clearing. "You should have known better, Sarah," he snarled, his gaze locking onto her crumpled form.

“You thought you could challenge me?" His lips curled into a dangerous smirk. "I am the Alpha for a reason."

He crouched down beside her, his tone dark and unforgiving. "Strength without control is nothing, and you've proven you're far from ready. You let your anger drive you, and that’s why you’re lying in the dirt right now." Fang's eyes bore into her, a twisted mix of disappointment and superiority. "I don’t care how far you’ve come, Sarah. Until you learn what it means to truly control yourself—your power, your emotions—you will never be able to stand on equal ground with me."

Sarah, barely able to move, winced at the sharp pain coursing through her broken body. But her spirit refused to be broken. She glared up at Fang, blood trickling from her mouth as she struggled to breathe.

I couldn’t watch any longer.

“Fang, enough!” I shouted, rushing forward. Fang turned, growling, his eyes blazing with fury. His presence was suffocating, his anger not yet fully spent.

“You’re going to kill her if you keep going,” I said, stepping between them. My voice didn’t waver, but my heart pounded against my ribs.

“Stay out of this, Izzy,” he snarled, his voice full of menace. “This isn’t your business.”

“Fang, she’s already beaten. You’ve made your point. This isn’t a lesson anymore—this is you letting your anger take over,” I snapped back. Fang’s eyes narrowed, and his growl deepened. The intensity of his rage seemed to darken the air around us.

“And what if I do?” he challenged, taking a step closer to me, towering over me now. “You think you can stop me?” His breath was hot, his muscles still rippling from the transformation, but I held my ground.

I stared him down, unyielding. “I won’t let you,” I said, my voice steady. “She’s one of us. You’re the Alpha, Fang, but this... this is not how you lead.”

For a long, tense moment, Fang didn’t move, his breath heavy with rage. But after what felt like an eternity, he backed down, his head lowering as he stepped away from Sarah. She lay in a heap on the ground, whimpering, blood staining the dirt around her. Her ribs were shattered, and her breathing was labored.

The pack watched, the tension thick in the air, and for a moment, I wondered if Fang would lose himself entirely. But then, something shifted. Fang blinked, as if coming back to himself. His growl subsided, and he straightened up, the tightness in his stance loosening ever so slightly.

“You should be thankful I’m showing you mercy,” Fang finally said, his voice cold but controlled. “The next time she steps out of line—there won’t be anyone to save her.”

“She’s learning,” I said, kneeling beside Sarah. “She just needs time.”

He cast one final, scornful look at Sarah before turning his back, his presence still commanding even as he strode away from the shattered remnants of the fight. The pack watched in silence, the weight of his words sinking in as they glanced between their alpha and the battered Sarah. Fang’s authority was unquestionable—but so was the lesson Sarah had learned that day.

Sarah, though beaten, stared after him, her mind already churning with a renewed sense of resolve. Bloodied but unbowed, she was not finished yet.

I carried Sarah to our healer, the woman who had mended me when I was headstrong, back when I thought I could take on the world without consequence. The same woman who had been there when my mentor died. Now, it was Sarah’s turn to be tended to, and I hoped she wouldn’t walk the same reckless path I had once walked.

As we arrived, the healer took one look at Sarah and wordlessly got to work. The piercing sound of Sarah's screams echoed through the air as her ribs were forcefully re-broken and set properly. It was a brutal, agonizing process, but it had to be done. The healer worked swiftly and expertly, her hands moving with precision, but there was no hiding the pain Sarah was in. Every cry was a reminder of the line Fang had crossed.

It wasn’t just the physical injury that troubled me. Sarah’s remarkable ability to heal quickly, while a gift, had its own drawbacks. Bones could heal incorrectly if not properly set, leading to pain that lingered for far longer than necessary. Fang, in his fury, had shown a blatant disregard for this fact. He had worsened her injuries, knowing full well what it meant. It was deeply unsettling.

As I replayed the fight in my mind, it became clear that Sarah had been formidable. She’d stood her ground, even made Fang bleed—a feat few could boast. But she let her emotions cloud her judgment, and when her anger took over, she stopped thinking clearly. That was her undoing.

Still, there was something about Fang’s aggression that didn’t sit right with me. Sarah had already lost the fight when he’d kicked her in the ribs the first time. She was down, defeated. But instead of stopping, he delivered a second blow—one that could have killed her. A blow that went beyond what was necessary to prove a point.

Why? What drove Fang to such brutality against a pack member who had shown nothing but loyalty since her arrival? Was he threatened by Sarah’s rapid growth, by how quickly she was mastering her abilities? Or was there something deeper—some personal issue that was fueling his rage?

I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more going on here, something beneath the surface that none of us were seeing. Fang had always been tough, a ruthless leader when necessary, but this felt different. It felt personal.

Whatever the reason, it became increasingly clear to me that something had to change. Fang’s unchecked aggression couldn’t be allowed to continue, not if we were to remain a strong, united pack. Sarah’s life had been put in unnecessary danger, and if it happened once, it could happen again.

As I watched the healer tend to Sarah, setting her ribs and easing her pain, I made a silent promise to myself. I would do whatever it took to protect her, to protect all of us from whatever storm was brewing inside Fang. Because this wasn’t just about one fight—it was about the future of our pack.