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Chapter 4c

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Finbar lay in the murkiness of the cave, his head resting on his paws, mind swirling with uncertainty. The cold stone beneath him offered little comfort, and his body ached from the forced journey, the fangs of the soldiers and the tension of the trial.

He had not slept; how could he? His thoughts were consumed with worry—about Willow, about the pups, about what would happen next. He knew the Alpha’s decision could come at any moment, and his fate was entirely out of his hands. The image of Willow's soft yellow eyes, filled with warmth and love, was the only thing keeping him sane in the darkness.

She had rescued him before, and she continued to save him in many ways.

Then, a soft sound reached his ears—the gentle padding of paws approaching the entrance of the cave. Finbar’s heart leaped in his chest, and he lifted his head, straining to listen. The scent that followed was unmistakable: Willow. His pulse quickened, and a flicker of hope sparked within him.

“High Lady?” came the voice of the golden male wolf, whom Finbar had learned was called Marco.

Willow spoke firmly: “Allow me in once more.”

Thorn could be heard, his reply brisk: “You need rest, visit him tomorrow.”

Willow snarled loudly, something Finbar was not used to her doing. She was not going to take any lip right now. “Thorn, so help me.”

Moments later, Willow’s fluffy form appeared at the cave’s entrance, her silhouette illuminated briefly by the gray dawn outside. She stepped inside, her eyes immediately finding him, and a soft smile spread across her face.

"Finbar," she whispered, her voice full of relief and warmth. She padded over to him, nuzzling his cheek tenderly. “It’s over. My father has made his decision.”

Finbar blinked, the tension in his chest loosening slightly as he absorbed her presence. He looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of bad news. “What did he say?” he asked, his voice hoarse with anxiety.

Willow’s smile widened, and she pressed her nose against his in a reassuring gesture. “You’ve been spared,” she murmured, her voice full of quiet joy. “You’re going to stay with us. You’ll have a chance to prove yourself to the pack, to show them that you’re worthy of being one of us.”

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A surge of relief washed over him, so intense that his legs nearly gave way beneath him. For a moment, he could not speak, only staring at her in disbelief. “I… I’ve been spared?” he echoed, the words sounding almost foreign on his tongue.

Willow nodded, her eyes glistening with emotion. “Yes. I think my father saw the truth in your heart. He knows that you love me, that you love our pups. He’s giving you a chance to prove yourself.”

Finbar’s chest swelled with gratitude and hope. He pressed his forehead against hers, letting out a shaky breath. “I don’t know how to thank you, Willow,” he whispered. “I thought… I thought I was going to lose everything.”

“You won’t lose us,” Willow said firmly, her voice filled with conviction. “Not now. Not ever. You belong with us. Together, we’ll show them that you are worthy of being here.”

He gazed at her with deep affection, overwhelmed by the strength of her love and her belief in him. “I’ll do whatever it takes,” he vowed.

Willow gave him a soft lick on the cheek before stepping back slightly. “Come,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “There’s no need for you to stay in this cave any longer. Let me take you to our den. It’s time for you to be with your family.”

Finbar hesitated only a moment, glancing at the mouth of the cave as if he couldn’t quite believe he was free to leave. Marco and Thorn had overheard the conversation, but were not celebrating; their bodies appeared stiff, bristling with fumes of bitterness. However, Willow’s reassuring presence was enough to spur him forward. With a nod, he stood up on shaky legs and followed her out.

The white wolf-dog did his best to not make eye contact with the guards, but he could still feel them staring at him as he passed. He did not look back at them, nor check where they went off to afterward. It was no longer of concern to him.

As they walked side by side through the camp clearing, Finbar noticed the subtle changes. The tension that had hung in the air earlier seemed to have dissipated, replaced by a peaceful quiet. Though there were still many challenges ahead, for now he felt a sense of calm he had not known in many months. Not since before his old master had thrown him into the river to drown.

Eventually, they arrived at a secluded part of the camp, where the trees grew thick and provided ample cover. There was a large mass of rocks with nooks and crannies big enough for wolves to fit into, to sleep and be safe. Nestled beneath an overhanging rock formation was a cozy den, lined with soft moss and ferns. The scent of their pups was strong there, filling the air with the smell of milk and family.

Willow paused at the rock den opening, turning to Finbar with a soft smile. “Welcome home,” she said softly, before licking his licks enthusiastically. He licked back, whining happily.

Finbar gazed inside the den, his heart swelling with emotion. He stepped inside, feeling the warmth of the space embrace him like a long-lost friend. The pups were curled up together, sleeping soundly, their tiny forms nestled against each other for comfort.

As the new father lay down beside them, Willow curled up next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. For the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to relax fully, completely. He was still a long way from earning the pack’s full acceptance, but here, in this moment, surrounded by the ones he loved, he knew that they weren’t going to kill him either.

He had been spared. He had been given a chance. For that, he would fight with everything he had.

As the den grew quiet and peaceful, Finbar drifted off to sleep, Willow’s steady breathing and the soft presence of their pups comforting him. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for tonight he was with his family, and that was all that mattered.

‘From this day forward, I will work to become a proper wolf.’