Remus Lupin had somehow acquired a wooden ladle and was serving soup to the children, his movements gentle and patient.
He would carefully break apart the large chunks of chicken with the spoon, blow on them to cool, and only then offer the food to each child.
At first, the children were wary of this unfamiliar adult. But it didn't take long for his warm gaze—and the irresistible aroma of the stew—to win them over.
Soon, they were gathered around Lupin, sipping the soup in small, cautious mouthfuls, like a pack of young cubs who had finally found shelter.
A little girl looked up at him, curiosity shining in her eyes. "Uncle, are you… like us? I can smell it on you, but it's so faint…"
Lupin nodded gently.
Marco watched the scene, his expression conflicted.
He saw color returning to his people's faces, a new light kindling in their eyes.
He walked over and sat beside Lupin.
"Thank you, Mr. Lupin."
Lupin shook his head, his eyes soft as he watched a little girl licking the bottom of her bowl—a tenderness even he didn't realize was there.
"I was once just like them." His voice was quiet, but it reached Marco's ears clearly. "Afraid of the moon. Afraid of myself. Feeling like every drop of blood in my body was cursed."
"Every full moon was torture. It felt like your bones were shattered, one by one, and then put back together. The pain makes you think death might be a relief."
Marco nodded silently. That was a language every werewolf understood.
"But not anymore."
Lupin looked up, following a shaft of pale light slanting down from the cave ceiling.
"Douglas's potion changed everything."
"It can't turn you back into an ordinary person—but it lets you find yourself, even when you're a wolf."
"The pain becomes a dull ache, like sore muscles after a long run. The chaos and bloodlust in your mind are replaced by a strange, gentle calm."
He smiled at the children. "And the taste is… unique, too. Sweet, sour, bitter, spicy, salty—all at once. Quite interesting, really."
The children gazed at him with envy. They'd only ever tasted the foul, cheap Wolfsbane Potion—never anything like this.
Marco glanced at the tribe's children and said softly, "Most of them were infected and abandoned. They shouldn't have to bear this pain, or those looks."
Lupin looked at the cluster of young faces.
"Yes. They should grow up like any young witch or wizard—with their parents, then go to school, find work…"
He suddenly turned to Douglas, and in that moment, he understood why he'd been brought here.
Marco watched the hope rekindled in the children's faces, his voice hoarse as he asked, "Mr. Lupin, even if we get the potion… what then? Can we ever return to normal society? Who would accept a pack of… monsters?"
Lupin's gaze turned distant. He answered in a low, steady voice:
"I asked Douglas the same question. He said healing wounds is only the first step. He's building… a place where we can stand on our own again. A mutual aid organization, just for us."
His words weren't loud, but every werewolf within earshot was listening.
"It's not a free shelter. He wants us to work for it… but he'll give us jobs. We'll earn the potions that heal us with our own hands, not wait for charity…"
"He even plans to set up workshops, so those who've been away from normal life too long can learn a trade again—brewing potions, repairing magical items—exchanging labor for medicine and dignity, not handouts."
"Help, not charity. Dignity must be earned."
Lupin himself didn't realize that, as he spoke, the melancholy and self-imposed exile that had always clung to him were gone.
"What we need isn't just medicine. What we need is the right to live beneath the moon!"
His words, like seeds, took root in the heart of every werewolf present.
He was no longer just the gentle Remus Lupin.
In this moment, he became the voice of Douglas's vision—a living testament, selling hope itself.
Marco felt those words strike him to his core.
He looked over at Douglas, who lounged against a rock, idly twirling a sprig of rosemary like a toothpick. As if the miracle he'd just performed had been nothing more than a casual home-cooked meal.
He gazed at his people—some licking the last drops from their bowls, others already asleep against the cave walls, snoring softly.
He watched the children gather around Lupin without fear.
He looked at the cast-iron pot, still radiating warmth and fragrance.
For the first time in months, peace had returned to the tribe.
He knew he'd made the right bet.
This Professor Holmes had brought more than just a pot of soup. He'd brought a spark that could change the fate of their entire people.
Drawing a deep breath, Marco turned and gathered the tribe's few remaining leaders.
They held a brief, but momentous council in a shadowed corner of the cave.
No arguments. No hesitation.
When the right to survive is within reach—when the children's future is close enough to touch—the choice is easy.
Marco approached Douglas again.
This time, he didn't bow. He stood tall and straight.
"Professor," he said, voice low but resolute, carrying the weight of an alpha's promise.
"You have saved the Ashclaw tribe."
His words trembled with emotion.
"Professor, you've given us hope. We can never repay this debt."
His voice was solemn as an oath.
"From this day forward, the Ashclaw tribe will be your most loyal allies in Italy. Our claws are your weapons. Our eyes, your sentries."
He paused, pain flickering in his voice.
"We are weak. The Church's Adam Project hangs over us like a sword. The madmen of the Red Moon Brotherhood call us traitors, and the Ministry of Magic hunts us everywhere."
"But we know every secret path in these mountains. We know every smuggler and sprite who'll trade us news."
"If you want Greyback, we'll drag him out of the deepest crack in the earth for you."
Douglas flicked away the rosemary sprig and sat up, his gaze sharpening.
"Are you sure you don't want to reconsider?"
Marco met his eyes, unwavering. "This is the decision of the entire tribe."
Douglas smiled.
"Excellent. But I don't want your loyalty—we're partners. For details, talk to Remus. I think he'll have answers you'll like."
He lifted his gaze, eyes suddenly keen.
"Now then, let's talk business."
His tone shifted, and the warmth of the feast vanished, replaced by the chill of reality.
"I need your help finding Greyback. But we can't just wait for him to show up."
He paused, then dropped a bombshell that Marco never expected.
"In fact, I've already invited him here."
🔥 Want to read the next 50+ chapters RIGHT NOW?
💎 Patreon members get instant access!
⚡ Limited-time offer currently running...
👉 [Join on - patreon.com/GoldenLong]