CHAPTER 342: CHAPTER 342 TRACKING THE CARAVAN

The moment the cool water touched his tongue, he couldn’t stop himself. He drank greedily, gulping as though he’d just crossed a scorching desert, water spilling from the corners of his mouth as he breathed heavily between swallows.

"Slow down..." Addison murmured, rubbing his back in gentle circles to soothe him. "You’ll choke if you keep drinking like that."

"Cough! Cough!" Sure enough, the water went down the wrong way after Zion drank too fast. A bit of it even came out through his nose as he coughed violently.

Addison couldn’t help it; she almost laughed. The sight was a little comical, but she bit her lip to hold it back. She didn’t want to make fun of him, not when he already looked so pitiful and dazed.

Addison gently rubbed his back to help soothe him, and after a moment, Zion’s coughing finally subsided. He looked at her with a faint, grateful smile. "Thank you, Addie."

His voice was low, almost hesitant. He couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes, afraid of what he might see there. The memory of losing control still haunted him, and the thought of seeing judgment or fear in her gaze felt unbearable.

"It’s okay," Addison said softly, pretending not to notice his unease. "How are you feeling?"

"I’m fine now," Zion replied shortly, forcing himself to sound steady. "I can keep going."

"All right. Everyone’s had some rest and looks ready to move out to find the main group. Let’s go," Addison said as she stood up, brushing the dust off her pants. It didn’t help much; she still looked like a mess.

She hadn’t even changed her clothes, too worried about leaving Zion unattended while he was unconscious to bother finding a secluded spot to change.

She then extended her hand toward him. Zion had only just woken up and was still weak, so helping him to his feet felt like the least she could do.

But for Zion, seeing her outstretched hand made his heart tremble with joy. He almost felt like crying. After all, if Addison was still willing to reach out to him, even after witnessing the monstrous side of him, it meant she didn’t see him the way he feared she would.

To her, what happened earlier didn’t seem to change anything, and that realization felt like redemption in itself.

If he saw himself as broken for losing control and turning into a beast, then she wasn’t any better in her own eyes, either. She couldn’t even summon her wolf. In the end, they were just two broken souls, flawed and scarred in their own ways, neither better nor worse than the other.

Whatever darkness Zion carried within him, it was his burden to face and overcome. And the same went for Addison; no one could tell what she had to do to lift the curse that bound her wolf, or if freedom was even possible at all.

Besides, in Addison’s eyes, even when Zion went feral, he still recognized her and never once tried to harm her. That alone was proof enough that, no matter what state he was in, Zion would never hurt her. To her, that was all the reason she needed to trust him with her safety.

And little did Addison realize, this accident had actually brought her even closer to Zion without her noticing it.

After all, knowing that the man she had always seen as the strong Hero of the Werewolves, the one who defeated the Vampire Lord and forced the vampires to retreat in defeat, was, in truth, just like her, made something shift inside her.

He wasn’t the untouchable Alpha others made him out to be, nor the invincible warrior everyone praised. Her father often says that every strength demands sacrifice, and every victory comes with its losses. There is no such thing as perfection, only human perception. And because of that, Addison began to see Zion in a different light.

After reorganizing their group, they set off, following the footprints the main party had left behind as they moved southeast. The ground was littered with chaotic animal tracks and tire marks pressed deep into the mud and gravel.

From the large gaps between the prints, Addison and Zion could tell the main group had been moving at full speed. But after about thirty minutes of tracking, they began to notice something unusual, foreign footprints that clearly didn’t belong to their people.

There were no signs of shoes, and the prints were smaller and rounder than a human’s.

"Who do you think this belongs to?" Addison asked, frowning as she studied the strange footprints.

"It doesn’t look like a werewolf’s footprint; it’s not shaped like a paw at all. It’s more human-like, with four round toes and a small, rounded foot. Judging by the size, about three to four inches, and the depth of the imprint, I’d say whoever left this was roughly the size of a five- or six-year-old child."

She crouched by the trail, carefully tracing the outline of one print with her finger. The rest of the warriors rested nearby, while Zion crouched beside her, also examining the strange markings with a thoughtful expression.

"I think you’re right," Zion said, his gaze sweeping over the ground. "These footprints are so light that if it weren’t for the muddy terrain, we might not have noticed them at all." He looked around carefully, trying to determine where the owner of the small footprints might have come from.

"But it didn’t rain, so why is this part muddy?" Addison asked, frowning in confusion as she glanced around. The trees and grass nearby were completely dry; there were no traces of moisture or any sign that it had rained before they arrived.

That only made her wonder more. The ground, however, was wet and soft, as if it had been soaked for quite some time. It was the only reason such a small and lightweight creature could have left those prints so clearly.

Looking around further, she noticed something else: the tracks of their own people. The deep tire marks and the knee-deep footprints nearby told her that the others had struggled to push their carts through the ditch, fighting against the same soft mud that now puzzled her.

"When I scouted around before, I noticed a river not too far from here," Zion began, crouching beside the tracks as he gestured toward the other side of the road. "So, it’s likely that there’s a small stream running through this area, probably coming from deeper within the forest and leading toward that river. That would explain why the ground here stays wet all the time."

Addison followed his gesture and saw what he meant. Not far from them was a shallow puddle, and a faint stream of water trickled steadily out from the forest’s edge.

"It’s not hard to imagine that the stream originated from a natural spring somewhere inside the forest," Zion continued. "Since there’s nowhere else for the water to go, it must’ve carved its own path through here."

"And if that flow never dries up, then someday, after a heavy rain, this place could easily flood. Given enough time, that small stream might even grow into a dike, or eventually, a full-fledged river."