The Alpha's Gamble - Chapter 102: Chapter 102
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NOAH
Hunting down a witch is like trying to grab a handful of fog and convincing yourself you’ll carry it home.
They’re masters of illusion and manipulation—strong in their chosen practice, whether it’s light or dark magic. But dark magic always brings pain and death in its wake. Unlike light witchcraft, which is in tune with nature and, crucially, not selfish.
We had to ask for help from the Trimoon Pack. They were the ones who came to my father over a decade ago, begging for help with the rogues. They helped lead us to the witch responsible.
I figured maybe it was time they returned the favor—by helping us track this bitch down.
“Noah, it’s not that easy,” said Alpha Mathias, shaking his weary head like I was some toddler asking how airplanes fly.
“We helped you before. I’m asking you to help me now.”
“Tracking down a witch isn’t a one-day feat,” he replied. He was in his fifties, like my father, and the two of them had always been close. But Mathias had never stopped seeing me as the boy who trailed after his father around the packs.
Malania and I had no idea how to hunt a witch. I knew what to do once I found her—I’d learned that from the first time around. When my father discovered a witch was aiding the rogues, he ground belladonna into powder and packed it into satchels. Everyone carried one. Ingesting the herb immobilized her almost instantly. She’d stayed conscious—able to speak, even—but she couldn’t summon her powers, use any relics, or cast spells.
That herb gave us the upper hand. It was our defense against someone who didn’t need to be close to kill us.
“Mathias, cut the shit and tell me how to find her.”
“I can’t, son. I’m sorry.”
Last time, it hadn’t been this hard. When they came asking for help, my father jumped without hesitation. We deployed instantly. Our warriors helped hunt her down, and it was my father who landed the lethal blow. He handled the sentence. The execution. The Trimoon Pack only led us there—after that, it was all on us.
“How did you find the witch all those years ago?” I hadn’t thought to ask back then. I was just a kid. But now, I realized they couldn’t have tracked her by scent—witches don’t carry one. And even if they did, they’d mask it.
“Noah…”
“The Obsidian Pack has been your closest ally for over a century. If you choose to walk away from us now, I can guarantee an immediate termination of our contract—and from that moment forward, you’ll be on your own.”
A black shimmer slid over his eyes, and a low growl rattled from his wrinkled lips.
“You’re threatening me, boy?”
I looked him straight in the eye.
“Yes. And I’m a man of my word.”
“I’m sure your father would think differently.”
“My father isn’t home. And hasn’t been for some time. His return is unknown. In his absence, I’m sure you’re aware that I hold the authority to make decisions like this. It’s your call. You have one minute to make it.”
Malania lifted her wrist and started counting down.
Mathias looked older than my father by a margin—more gray, more lines, more weight on his bones. I wasn’t sure what life had done to him, but I suspected cowardice had played a role. Mathias liked to make allies and let them do the dirty work. He and Trevor would probably get along.
His wolf stepped forward, clearly bristling at being threatened in his own territory. But even now, I could feel the energy around us. Onyx was stronger. If things went sideways, this wouldn’t be a fair fight.
“Thirty seconds,” Malania said.
Mathias’s head rolled in a full circle, his jaw clenched, and his eyes gleaming with fury. Come on, old man. Just spit it out. Why did everyone need to put on a show before they caved? They always told us what we wanted, eventually.
Time ticked by. The room stood still, frozen in tension. His warriors were present—two at the door, his Beta at his side, wearing a scowl so sharp it could’ve been stitched into the pack’s crest.
“Time’s up,” Malania said crisply.
I turned toward the door and gave a respectful nod.
“Thank you for your time.”
I grabbed the handle, twisted it, and started counting down in my head. If the Trimoon Pack lost the Obsidian alliance, they were sitting ducks in the event of an attack.
“Wait,” Mathias said, voice rough. Spit flew from his lips as he stepped around his glass desk and grabbed his phone.
He dialed.
I listened.
But the weirdest thing happened, there was nothing. No ring, no voice. Just a low hum, like a breeze shifting from ear to ear.
Malania scrunched her nose and glanced at me, disturbed.
When Mathias hung up, his posture had changed. Deflated. His gaze swept the room before landing back on me with far less conviction than before.
“You have a witch,” I said flatly. Rage simmered under my skin. I wanted to bang his head through the wall and use his Beta’s body as a bat to finish the job.
It was obvious now. Mathias wasn’t the sharpest Alpha in the forest—but to ally with a witch?
That was stupid on a whole new level.
And he knew exactly how dangerous it was.
Hunting down a witch is like trying to grab a handful of fog and convincing yourself you’ll carry it home.
They’re masters of illusion and manipulation—strong in their chosen practice, whether it’s light or dark magic. But dark magic always brings pain and death in its wake. Unlike light witchcraft, which is in tune with nature and, crucially, not selfish.
We had to ask for help from the Trimoon Pack. They were the ones who came to my father over a decade ago, begging for help with the rogues. They helped lead us to the witch responsible.
I figured maybe it was time they returned the favor—by helping us track this bitch down.
“Noah, it’s not that easy,” said Alpha Mathias, shaking his weary head like I was some toddler asking how airplanes fly.
“We helped you before. I’m asking you to help me now.”
“Tracking down a witch isn’t a one-day feat,” he replied. He was in his fifties, like my father, and the two of them had always been close. But Mathias had never stopped seeing me as the boy who trailed after his father around the packs.
Malania and I had no idea how to hunt a witch. I knew what to do once I found her—I’d learned that from the first time around. When my father discovered a witch was aiding the rogues, he ground belladonna into powder and packed it into satchels. Everyone carried one. Ingesting the herb immobilized her almost instantly. She’d stayed conscious—able to speak, even—but she couldn’t summon her powers, use any relics, or cast spells.
That herb gave us the upper hand. It was our defense against someone who didn’t need to be close to kill us.
“Mathias, cut the shit and tell me how to find her.”
“I can’t, son. I’m sorry.”
Last time, it hadn’t been this hard. When they came asking for help, my father jumped without hesitation. We deployed instantly. Our warriors helped hunt her down, and it was my father who landed the lethal blow. He handled the sentence. The execution. The Trimoon Pack only led us there—after that, it was all on us.
“How did you find the witch all those years ago?” I hadn’t thought to ask back then. I was just a kid. But now, I realized they couldn’t have tracked her by scent—witches don’t carry one. And even if they did, they’d mask it.
“Noah…”
“The Obsidian Pack has been your closest ally for over a century. If you choose to walk away from us now, I can guarantee an immediate termination of our contract—and from that moment forward, you’ll be on your own.”
A black shimmer slid over his eyes, and a low growl rattled from his wrinkled lips.
“You’re threatening me, boy?”
I looked him straight in the eye.
“Yes. And I’m a man of my word.”
“I’m sure your father would think differently.”
“My father isn’t home. And hasn’t been for some time. His return is unknown. In his absence, I’m sure you’re aware that I hold the authority to make decisions like this. It’s your call. You have one minute to make it.”
Malania lifted her wrist and started counting down.
Mathias looked older than my father by a margin—more gray, more lines, more weight on his bones. I wasn’t sure what life had done to him, but I suspected cowardice had played a role. Mathias liked to make allies and let them do the dirty work. He and Trevor would probably get along.
His wolf stepped forward, clearly bristling at being threatened in his own territory. But even now, I could feel the energy around us. Onyx was stronger. If things went sideways, this wouldn’t be a fair fight.
“Thirty seconds,” Malania said.
Mathias’s head rolled in a full circle, his jaw clenched, and his eyes gleaming with fury. Come on, old man. Just spit it out. Why did everyone need to put on a show before they caved? They always told us what we wanted, eventually.
Time ticked by. The room stood still, frozen in tension. His warriors were present—two at the door, his Beta at his side, wearing a scowl so sharp it could’ve been stitched into the pack’s crest.
“Time’s up,” Malania said crisply.
I turned toward the door and gave a respectful nod.
“Thank you for your time.”
I grabbed the handle, twisted it, and started counting down in my head. If the Trimoon Pack lost the Obsidian alliance, they were sitting ducks in the event of an attack.
“Wait,” Mathias said, voice rough. Spit flew from his lips as he stepped around his glass desk and grabbed his phone.
He dialed.
I listened.
But the weirdest thing happened, there was nothing. No ring, no voice. Just a low hum, like a breeze shifting from ear to ear.
Malania scrunched her nose and glanced at me, disturbed.
When Mathias hung up, his posture had changed. Deflated. His gaze swept the room before landing back on me with far less conviction than before.
“You have a witch,” I said flatly. Rage simmered under my skin. I wanted to bang his head through the wall and use his Beta’s body as a bat to finish the job.
It was obvious now. Mathias wasn’t the sharpest Alpha in the forest—but to ally with a witch?
That was stupid on a whole new level.
And he knew exactly how dangerous it was.
End of The Alpha's Gamble Chapter 102. Continue reading Chapter 103 or return to The Alpha's Gamble book page.