The night was heavy with the roar of engines and the pounding of fear. Rowan’s parents clutched his small hands tightly as they stumbled through the shadows, desperate to reach safety. Ahead, the faint lights of a countryside road promised escape — and beyond that, the home of Kim’s mother.

But fate was cruel.

Just as their car veered around the bend, another vehicle swerved in front of them, headlights glaring like the eyes of a beast. The screech of tires, the shattering of glass, and the deafening crash tore through the night.

When the world stopped spinning, Rowan’s ears rang with silence. Smoke curled into the air, mixing with the metallic scent of blood. His parents shielded him with their bodies, arms wrapped protectively around his tiny frame. Their breaths came in ragged gasps… and then, no more.

“Mom? Dad?” 

Rowan’s trembling voice broke into the night, but there was no answer. Only the hollow stillness of their sacrifice.

Beside them, Kim staggered from the wreck, blood soaking through his coat. His breaths were shallow, his face pale, but he forced himself to move. His eyes locked onto Rowan — wide, tearful, untouched by the cruel hand of death.

“Come… here,” 

Kim rasped, pulling the boy into his arms. Every step forward was agony. The road stretched endlessly before him, and with each stumble, crimson marked his path.

Rowan clung to him, sobbing, unaware that the man who carried him was fighting his final battle. Kim’s voice was faint, a whisper carried on the wind. 

“Don’t be afraid… we’re almost there.”

At last, the small cottage came into view. Light spilled from the window, and on the porch stood Kim’s mother, her face etched with worry that turned to horror as she saw them.

“Mother…” 

Kim choked, collapsing to his knees. With the last of his strength, he pressed Rowan into her arms. 

“Take… care of him.”

The boy was lifted away, but Kim’s bloodied hand lingered, trembling, before it finally fell limp. His body crumpled against the earth, the life draining from his eyes.

Rowan screamed, reaching for him, but his cries were swallowed by the night.

Kim’s mother held the boy close, her tears falling freely as she whispered,

 “Hush, little one… you’re safe now.”

And so, in a single night of fire and steel, Rowan lost everything — his parents, his innocence, and the life he was meant to have. On the other hand grandma had just lost her son — her boy, the child she once carried just as Rowan was being carried now. But there was no time to crumble. Not when this innocent child needed her.

As she tried to soothe him, she noticed something strange. Rowan’s tiny fists trembled, his nails digging into his palms until drops of blood surfaced. But it wasn’t the blood that startled her. It was his eyes.

For a moment, under the flickering lamplight, they glowed faintly gold.

The grandmother froze. She knew those eyes — not from Kim, but from the whispered stories of the ones who lived hidden in the forests, the ones who bore the curse of the wolf. Her son had kept the secret all his life, had worked as a loyal secretary to hide the truth. And now here was proof of it, alive and trembling in her arms.

Rowan whimpered and buried his face in her shoulder, unaware of the power seeping from his blood.

Tears welled in her eyes, not only for the loss of her son but for the destiny she knew now fell upon this child. 

“So that's why?,”

 she whispered to herself, tightening her embrace.

 “They killed your parents because of what they were.”

She lifted her chin, gazing out into the darkness of the woods where the crash still smoldered faintly. 

“And I will not let their deaths be in vain.”

Rowan hiccupped, finally quieting, exhaustion dragging his tiny body into slumber. The grandmother gently stroked his hair, her face hardening.

“Sleep, little one” 

she murmured.

“For one day, you’ll rise. And when you do, you will avenge them — for all of us.”

The weight of the night settled heavy around her, but in that silence, a vow was born.

The boy in her arms would not only survive.

He would carry the legacy of his bloodline.

And when the time came, he would make those responsible pay.

----

The grandmother’s voice broke the stillness.

“You’ve waited long enough. It’s time to begin.”

Rowan’s jaw tightened. 

“I know.”

“You promised me,”

 she said firmly, her wrinkled hands gripping her shawl.

 “This world stole everything from us. Don’t forget why you live.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” 

Rowan said, his voice low.

 “I’ll make them pay. Every single one of them.”

The grandmother leaned back, satisfied, but a flicker of something unreadable crossed her eyes.

Rowan rose, stepping toward the window. The night stretched endlessly outside, a canvas painted in shadows. He pressed his hand lightly against the cold glass. For a moment, unbidden, the memory of a small, warm letter tucked into his pocket years ago surfaced.

“…Stupid kid,” 

Rowan muttered under his breath, but the harshness in his tone sounded hollow, as though he were convincing himself more than anyone else.

“Don’t waver,” 

the grandmother said firmly, catching the flicker of doubt in his eyes. 

“Revenge doesn’t wait for hesitation.”

Rowan looked away, gaze pulling toward the window where the night stretched endless and dark. His reflection stared back at him, half-lit by the fire. Wolf and man. Memory and vengeance.

“I won’t waver,” 

he said finally, his voice rough. 

“Not when it comes to them.”

----

Across town, the ordinary hum of life carried on.

Leo leaned back in his chair, half-listening to his mother’s voice as she set a steaming pot on the dinner table. The smell of herbs and spices filled the room.

“Homework done?”

 she asked, adjusting her apron.

“Almost,”

 Leo replied, twirling his pen between his fingers. His mind was elsewhere, drifting between school projects, basketball practice, and the quiet ache of teenage restlessness.

He had no memory of the cliff, the wolf-eyed boy, or the letter he once wrote with trembling hands. To him, that summer was nothing more than a blur of childhood days.

“Eat while it’s hot,” 

his mother urged, setting his plate in front of him.

Leo smiled faintly and dug in. His life was normal. Simple. Safe.

But outside, in the dark edges of the woods, Rowan’s shadow lingered — patient, watching, waiting for the day the threads of revenge and fate would twist together once more.