Chapter 4- The Rothwell Legacy
1733 Words
These are werewolves.
The voice came from behind them. Lilith turned slowly. Her father stood at the edge of the clearing. For a moment, she thought she was hallucinating.
Six months.
Six months without a call. Without a trace. Without a body to bury. And now he stood there as he had simply stepped out for the evening.
Elias was the first to react. “Commander?”
The army parted instinctively. Because that’s what they were.
Not a team but an army. Built from grief and vengeance.
Built from one man who refused to let the world forget what had taken his wife. He amassed every single person he could find who was wronged by mutant wolves and formed this army.
And what even are werewolves? How could an animal turn into a human? She killed a person. Her eyes went back to the body rotting on the snow. Her father’s gaze swept over the clearing once.
The body. The blood. The tracks.
Then it locked onto her.
He crossed the snow in long strides. His hands gripped her shoulders roughly, turning her left, right, checking her arms, her neck, her ribs.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.” Lie. She has long learned not to show her wounds to her father. It wouldn’t earn her the warmth of her last remaining parent, but instead would get berated and followed by extra training.
A curt nod.
Satisfied.
Only then did his eyes flick toward the corpse. Fur was completely gone, and human form exposed under the moon. Shock flickered there, but only for a second. Then it vanished behind steel.
“They’re werewolves,” he repeated.
The word felt different in his mouth.
He had known. Or suspected. And he hadn’t told her.
—
The ride back was silent. Engines roared. Snow churned beneath tires. Flashlights cut through trees as they exited the border town. Lilith sat in the back of the truck, staring at her hands. There was dried blood beneath her nails.
Human blood. Her chest felt hollow.
The black wolf’s eyes wouldn’t leave her mind.
The way he had looked at her. The way he had…hesitated.
The compound lights flickered on as they arrived. The underground war room buzzed with movement. Hunters barked orders. Reports were being filed before boots were even fully unlaced.
Her father didn’t remove his coat.
“Lilith, war room. Now!” he said.
She followed.
The war was covered in maps, screens, and red lines crossing forest territory. Lilith stood at attention automatically. Her father remained at the head of the table.
“Details.”
Her mouth opened. Nothing came out. Her mind wasn’t in the room with her father.
It was still in the woods. Still in the moment when fur receded into flesh. Still looking in those brown human eyes.
“Lilith.”
His voice sharpened. She didn’t move. He slammed his palm against the table.
“Snap out of it.”
The c***k echoed. Her eyes finally lifted.
“They deserve it,” he said coldly. “Every one of them.”
Silence.
“Did they hesitate when they tore your mother apart?”
The words hit exactly where they were meant to.
Six years old.
Blood through the cracks. Her mother’s scream, cut short.
Her father’s voice over and over:
They are monsters. Monsters do not deserve mercy. You will never be weak again.
“Do you think the one you shot tonight would think twice before killing you?” he pressed.
Her jaw tightened. “No.”
“That man in the snow was a predator. A killer. A curse.”
His voice lowered.
“You were six when you watched your mother die.” Her throat tightened despite herself. “I built this army so no child ever sees that again.”
The weight of it pressed down on her like iron. She forced her spine straight.
“I’m sorry,” she said evenly.
Obedience and control were instilled in her by her father before the soil on her mother’s grave even dried.
“The wolves coordinated,” she started. “They formed a crescent. This was way more strategic than we have ever seen. These wolves were very much in coordination and some sort of hierarchy.”
Her father’s eyes sharpened.
“There was one they listened to. The larger one with the black fur commanded them. They responded instantly.”
“The Alpha,” he murmured. This is the first time she is hearing about it. “He lunged at one of his own before it could get to me. ”
The room stilled. Her father’s jaw flexed once.
“And then?”
“He left.”
“Anything else?”
“No.”
That was the only lie she allowed herself. How was she supposed to tell her dad what she saw in the wolf’s eyes and the way he hesitated?
Lilith answered all her father’s questions, and now it was time to get hers.
“Where were you?” she asked finally.
The question had been sitting under her ribs for six months. He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he crossed to the far wall and opened a metal wardrobe bolted into concrete.
He reached inside and pulled out a small wooden box. It looked ancient. Dark wood. Iron hinges. A seal carved into its lid.
A crescent moon pierced by a blade. Her pulse shifted. “What is that?”
He set it on the table between them. “It’s time you know.” He opened it.
Inside lay: An old silver dagger, a leather-bound journal, a ring engraved with the same seal and yellowed letters tied in twine.
“Our family history,” he said quietly.
She frowned.
“We’ve always hunted. Rothwells have been hunters for centuries.”
“What?” Lilith was confused. She always believed that her mother’s death promoted this 180-degree change in her life, turning her and her father into hunters.
“Yes.” He rested his hands on the table. “My father was a hunter.”
She stilled. She had never met her paternal grandfather. Never heard stories. She has only met her father’s mother and her mother’s parents, but his father was never in the picture. He had been a ghost in her childhood.
“And his father before him,” her father continued. “And his father. Rothwells have hunted for generations.”
“I don’t understand. How is this possible? Why did you hide this?”
“I didn’t have all the information. Your grandmother, Agnes, took me away when I was very young,” he explained. “I remember some stories regarding the women of the Rothwell family, but it was all in bits and pieces, and it was about time I got to the bottom of it.”
A chill crept up her spine.
“You think this started when your mother died? My grandmother was killed by wolves.”
She didn’t speak. “Her grandmother before her.”
Silence thickened.
“Your great-grandmother was found torn apart outside New Orleans, USA.”
Her breath slowed. The word hung heavy.
“They always come back,” he said quietly. “For the women.”
The air felt too thin.
“We don’t know what it is,” he continued. “Curse. Mark. Bloodline trait.” His eyes lifted to hers. “But we know it’s real.”
A strange ringing filled her ears.
“What are you saying? Mom wasn’t a Rothwell.”
His voice was steady. “I’m saying they don’t just kill randomly. That night, they didn’t come for your mother. They came for you. You have the curse. like all the Rothwell women before you.”
Her breath hitched. The memory of that night played like a broken tape in her head. It was because of her…
“They hunt us. They hunt Rothwell women.”
Her stomach twisted. “It’s insane.”
He stepped closer. Her pulse thundered.
“You think it’s a coincidence the Alpha spared you?”
Her breath caught. He knew it.
“Lilith.” His voice dropped lower. “I went to find my father.”
She blinked.
“He’s alive.”
“Where?”
“Deep in the forests outside New Orleans.”
“Why now?”
“Because he knows more than I do. I tried my best to find the reason behind the wolves’ fixation on you, and I failed. Your grandfather has given his life to protect mankind and the women in his family. He finally managed to protect the family from the curse. If I had the training from him, maybe…”
His jaw tightened. She knew what he meant. Maybe her mother would be alive today.
“I always felt something was missing growing up. My mother gave no explanation about my dad’s absence.” He exhaled slowly. “I met Anastasia, and the emptiness stopped. You lit up our world, Lilith.”
Something softened in his voice for a fraction of a second.
“And then they came back.” His eyes darkened. “They killed her.”
The softness vanished.
“I needed answers. I will move heaven and hell before I let them take you away. They will not stop coming at you, and our best chance is to fight them. I trained you the best I could, but I am at my limits.”
His gaze held hers.
“And it’s time you learn from the best. This isn’t random hunting, Lilith. This is legacy. The legacy built by your grandfather to fight this curse.”
He pushed the ring toward her.
“You will carry it.”
She stared at the crescent-and-blade symbol. Her pulse pounded.
“And if we don’t end this curse now,” he continued, “they will never stop coming for our family till the Rothwells and women like you are erased from the face of earth.”
The room felt smaller and tighter.
Images flickered in her mind… the black wolf… her mother’s blood.
If this was a curse, why had he spared her?
Her father closed the box.
“It’s time the legacy passes fully to you.”
The weight of it settled across her shoulders like armor.
… or chains.
Lilith’s fingers curled slowly around the ring.
She wasn’t sure anymore… who was hunting whom.
- Writer
