He Cast Off His “Human” Mate. Years Later, She Returns as a Full-Blooded Wolf

Chapter 4 – Terms of Help

By the time we step out of the healer’s den, my shirt clings to my back and my skull hums like it’s full of bees.

The village square looks different now.

Before, I saw tidy paths and smoke and wary faces. Now I see the way some of their wolves glance toward the den with easy trust, the way pups tumble underfoot without flinching when Caelis walks by, the way no one looks over their shoulder for a blow from within.

My pack used to look like that.

“Council room,” Caelis says, nodding toward a low, wide building with carved beams and a moss‑soft roof. “We’ll talk there. Liora?”

“I’ll join you,” she says, wiping her hands on a clean cloth. The tendons in her wrists stand out, faintly strained from what she just did to pull Kerrin back. “Give me a moment to scrub.”

“Take two,” Elvara murmurs, touching her arm. “We’ll start with what we know.”

We.

The word sits oddly on my tongue now, heavier than when I first crossed the border.

Inside, the council room smells of wood smoke and old arguments. A long table runs down the middle, benches on either side. Caelis takes the head; Elvara sits to his right. Sionne slouches near the far end, long legs stretched out, while Tarek takes a seat against the wall, every inch of him relaxed except his eyes.

My wolves file in more stiffly. Jarik to my right, Meren to my left, others fanning out behind us. Vorren isn’t here—he stayed in our own territory with the rest of the Council—but his presence hangs over my shoulder anyway, a phantom weight of disapproval.

Caelis steeples his fingers. “You said this started three moons ago.”

I nod. “First a cough that didn’t clear. Then fevers. Weakness. It moved fast through the lower ranks. The elders insisted it was a ‘passing sickness.’”

“And you?” Elvara asks.

“I thought if it were only that, it would’ve burned out by now,” I admit. “Our wolves heal. This—doesn’t let them.”

The door opens. Liora slips in, hair slightly damp around her temples, hands clean. She moves to the side of the table, not at the head, not at the foot. Near enough to Caelis to speak, far enough not to claim a seat she hasn’t been offered.

Caelis tips his chin toward her. “Tell them what you told me.”

She doesn’t look at me when she speaks. “Whatever is killing your wolves isn’t just a virus or bad air. It’s chemical. Human‑made. And it’s designed to hit the wolf as much as the flesh.”

Jarik shifts. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Her tone is flat. “The powder you’ve been using? I’ve smelled its parent compound before. On one of their farms. In a clinic.”

I know I shouldn’t, but the question rips out of me anyway. “On you?”

Silence stitches the room shut for a heartbeat.

She lifts her gaze then, and it cuts. “On wolves who didn’t walk away.”

Shame tastes metallic on my tongue.

Caelis leans forward. “We need a full list of everything your Council has taken from human hands in the last year. Medicines. Injections. Visits from ‘doctors’ or ‘researchers.’ Names, labels, where and when.”

Meren swallows. “We… we didn’t write all of it down.”

“You did,” I say, sharper than I mean to. “Vorren keeps records of every outside deal. He thinks it makes him clever.”

Jarik nods reluctantly. “They’re in the strongroom. Locked.”

“Then we’ll need those ledgers,” Liora says. “All of them.”

My hackles lift. “You think I’m going to drag my entire Council’s private agreements across the range and drop them at your feet?”

Her brow arches. “You came into my home with a half‑dead wolf whose veins reek of human labs and asked me to fix him. I’m telling you what I need to do that without killing more of your people than the sickness already has.” A beat. “If your pride’s more important than their lives, we can end this here.”

Tarek lets out a low whistle. Sionne mutters, “And people say I’m blunt.”

Heat crawls up my throat. My wolf bristles at the challenge; my human mind counts the bodies we’ve already burned.

Jarik clears his throat. “We can bring copies,” he offers cautiously. “Send runners back tonight, have them here in a few days.”

Liora considers. “That’s a start.”

Caelis nods. “Good. While we wait, we can share what we’ve seen from our side. The sickness hasn’t hit us yet. That means there are patterns we can still break.”

Meren frowns. “If it hasn’t hit you… why help us? You could just close your borders. Wait for us to rot and then take what’s left.”

It’s a brutal, embarrassing thought, but a logical one. Pack strategy, if you strip out sentiment.

Elvara’s eyes soften. “Because we remember what it’s like to be one bad season away from losing everything. And because whatever these humans are playing with doesn’t care about your borders or ours.”

“And,” Caelis adds dryly, “because my healer has decided she’s not going to let some outsider’s mistake turn our forests into a graveyard. She’s stubborn like that.”

For the first time, a flicker of color touches Liora’s cheeks. She ducks her head, but I catch it.

The old ache in my chest twists. That stubbornness used to be aimed at me. At us.

“Terms, then,” I say, forcing my voice steady. “You want our records. Our cooperation on containment. What else?”

Liora meets my eyes fully now. “Honesty. No more half‑truths about ‘a few volunteers’ or ‘small agreements.’ If you hid deals from your own wolves, that stops here.”

“My cooperation,” I say slowly, “does not extend to handing you my pack to judge.”

“I’m not your judge,” she says. “I’m your best chance at keeping more of your wolves from ending up like Kerrin. If you want a clean conscience, you’ll have to find that on your own time.”

Sionne snorts. “And maybe a sharp rock.”

Caelis’ mouth twitches. “In return, you have our healer, our resources, and our patrols. If the sickness shows up on our side, we fight it together. If humans set foot in these woods again, we decide how to respond as allies, not strangers.”

Allies.

It’s the word I came here for. It lands differently now, wrapped up with Liora’s scent and Kerrin’s ragged breaths and the weight of packets the color of bone.

I look at my wolves. Meren’s eyes are wet, jaw clenched. Tarek’s watching me warily, as if bracing for my temper. Jarik meets my gaze, and in his I see the same tired fear that’s been eating at me for weeks.

They’re waiting for me to say no.

They’re begging me, silently, to say yes.

Slowly, I nod. “You’ll have your ledgers. And whatever else you need to keep my pack from falling apart.”

Liora inclines her head. Not triumph. A quiet, professional acknowledgment.

“Good,” she says. “Then the next thing I need is time alone with your wolves.”

My spine stiffens. “Alone?”

“To take full scent profiles, check for early signs, and make sure no one else is carrying enough of this poison to light your camp up like dry tinder.” Her voice softens, but only slightly. “You trusted humans who smiled and said they knew better than you. You can at least try trusting a wolf who actually bleeds like you do.”

The room goes very still.

Trust.

I’d rejected her once, calling it protection.

Now the only way to protect what’s left of my world is to put it in the hands of the woman I chose to throw away.