The Alpha's Gamble - Chapter 104: Chapter 104
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NOAH
We had left the pack house, Mathias led us out to a barn-looking place in the backyards, and I half expected to see horses in their stalls, neighing and tossing their heads. Walking in, I realized that not only was he friends with a witch, but he was a sucker for all things occult. A secret he kept under wraps, for good reasons. We didn’t dabble in that shit, we left it to the servants of nature to play with their squirrel bones and symbols, salt and herbs. It wasn’t for us. We were the protectors, we fought and we built community, living much like the humans, just a little bloodier.
“What the hell?” Malania turned her head, leaned back, and looked up at the hand-drawn symbol that covered the ceiling: a hexagon framed in a large circle that touched each sharp tip.
Clusters of candles stood on the floor and on the tables, melted wax had formed ginormous beds on which they stood, and apothecary desks with tiny drawers were stacked against the walls, some were open, and a pungent smell smacked us in the face. Malania wrinkled her nose, gently hooked her index finger to shield herself from the stench, but despite the unease we felt walking into his room of shame, we had to look around.
“Don’t touch anything,” I hissed, and Malania pulled her hand back, fingers nearly grazing the leathered shell of a sigil-covered box.
My god, this was next-level obsession.
Trinkets and relics lined dusty shelves. A parchment roll stood on a brass holder, and a stack of papyrus lay disorganized on the carved dresser.
Mathias cleared his throat, looked around at his collection, and gestured uncomfortably with his hands. He must’ve been unsure what to say, this was not what you expected to find in an Alpha’s backyard.
“I know it looks odd.” Odd?
It looked like a coven of witches had been living here for centuries, collecting everything from dead animals’ carcasses to grimoires that stood with layers of dust on them.
“It looks…” Malania shrugged, and a vein in her throat bulged when she tried to find the words. Warriors could fight, not talk.
“Like you should have a portal to hell painted on the wall,” I said.
Honestly, I didn’t want to spend more time in here than necessary. We didn’t fraternize with the witches or any of this bullshit that it seemed he’d spent a lifetime collecting.
I wanted to get my answers and then get the fuck out of here and back to Maddie. It wasn’t until we got to the Trimoon pack that I realized I’d left her alone with Logan, and by then I had half a mind to turn around and go back, throw my little brother in the car and take him with me—and away from her.
I swear to God, if he pulls her into any more shit I’m going to lose it. Everything I’m doing is to ensure her safety, if anybody jeopardizes that—or even if Maddie chooses it herself—I’m putting them all on lockdown and throwing away the key.
My thought process on all the ways I was going to kick my brother’s ass if he let her do some dumb shit was cut short when an ominous gust of wind blew in from nowhere.
Mathias raised his head and looked at the doors that flew open on their own accord.
“She’s here.”
Not sure what I expected. Maybe a wrinkly old hag with a cane and rotten teeth—a hunched back dressed in torn shreds, but it certainly wasn’t what I saw.
The girl wasn’t old, nor disfigured—her silver hair swayed around her waist and the stilettos clicked on the wooden boards.
“Are these our guests?” she asked sweetly and stopped in front of Malania, whose jaw was on the floor and a tinkle erupted in her eyes.
Fucking hell.
‘Don’t you fucking dare fall for a witch.’
If she did, she could go and live in her cave because no way I am allowing one of them into my pack.
Malania rolled her eyes from the mind link and reached out her hand.
“I am Malania, this is Alpha Noah,” she said.
“Pleasure, I’m Freya,” she shook Malania’s hand, keeping it there for a short moment, and searching her face. When she moved on to me, hand outstretched for me to grab, I kept mine down.
“It’s quite disrespectful not to shake the hand of the person whose help you are inquiring, don’t you think?” Freya smiled and stepped closer. “My touch won’t hex you.”
Malania impatiently flicked her head, wanting me to shake hands with the girl. The witch.
Fine.
“Alpha Noah of the Obsidian Pack.” Our palms pressed together, fingers folding around the back of our knuckles. She had a strong grip, but it wasn’t her strength that bothered me; it was the way she looked at me, like she already knew why we were there. As though everything she needed to know came to her from that one touch.
“Hm,” she said and dropped her hand. “Pleasure.”
It was the heaviest moment of silence I’d ever experienced, and I was constantly on my guard to make sure she didn’t pull one over on us. I didn’t trust witches. Never had, never would.
But we needed her help, and that was all we were here for.
“You’re worried about a loved one,” Freya said it as though there wasn’t a doubt in her mind. I knew that handshake would bite me in the ass.
“We need your help finding a witch.”
“Who?” If I knew that, I wouldn’t need you, now would I?
“We don’t know,” I said. Better stay on her good graces. Witches were notoriously proud. Any form of disrespect—what they viewed as disrespect—usually ended up in them turning their backs on you, or losing their temper. I’m strong against werewolves, but I haven’t ever measured my strength against a witch.
“That’s why we’re here,” Malania said. “We need your help tracking her down, but we don’t have any information to go on.”
Malania wasn’t a social butterfly; she rarely talked unless spoken to, but I guess a pretty girl was all that was needed to loosen her tongue.
“You have nothing for me to go on?” she asked.
“No. Can you help us or not?” I asked.
A soft chuckle pulled her lips back, and she gazed at Mathias like a long-lost friend.
“You were right, he’s an impatient one.” Mathias nodded in agreement, and they looked oddly, unnaturally cozy together. There should be some air of discomfort or fear, but they seemed to be as close as two werewolves.
“Tell me what she’s done, maybe I can get an inkling of this person from the mess they’ve created.”
Could I trust her?
What fucking choice do you have? Onyx reminded me.
“She manipulated my—” I stopped, reevaluated my words and corrected myself. “—messed with one of my pack members.”
“How?”
“By tampering with her wolf. She turned eighteen a couple of weeks ago and her wolf was…” How do I say it without sounding insane? “The wolf went rogue, didn’t listen to her, they can’t hear each other’s thoughts and my wolf can’t sense her.”
Freya’s eyes went from narrow and focused to doubling in size.
We had left the pack house, Mathias led us out to a barn-looking place in the backyards, and I half expected to see horses in their stalls, neighing and tossing their heads. Walking in, I realized that not only was he friends with a witch, but he was a sucker for all things occult. A secret he kept under wraps, for good reasons. We didn’t dabble in that shit, we left it to the servants of nature to play with their squirrel bones and symbols, salt and herbs. It wasn’t for us. We were the protectors, we fought and we built community, living much like the humans, just a little bloodier.
“What the hell?” Malania turned her head, leaned back, and looked up at the hand-drawn symbol that covered the ceiling: a hexagon framed in a large circle that touched each sharp tip.
Clusters of candles stood on the floor and on the tables, melted wax had formed ginormous beds on which they stood, and apothecary desks with tiny drawers were stacked against the walls, some were open, and a pungent smell smacked us in the face. Malania wrinkled her nose, gently hooked her index finger to shield herself from the stench, but despite the unease we felt walking into his room of shame, we had to look around.
“Don’t touch anything,” I hissed, and Malania pulled her hand back, fingers nearly grazing the leathered shell of a sigil-covered box.
My god, this was next-level obsession.
Trinkets and relics lined dusty shelves. A parchment roll stood on a brass holder, and a stack of papyrus lay disorganized on the carved dresser.
Mathias cleared his throat, looked around at his collection, and gestured uncomfortably with his hands. He must’ve been unsure what to say, this was not what you expected to find in an Alpha’s backyard.
“I know it looks odd.” Odd?
It looked like a coven of witches had been living here for centuries, collecting everything from dead animals’ carcasses to grimoires that stood with layers of dust on them.
“It looks…” Malania shrugged, and a vein in her throat bulged when she tried to find the words. Warriors could fight, not talk.
“Like you should have a portal to hell painted on the wall,” I said.
Honestly, I didn’t want to spend more time in here than necessary. We didn’t fraternize with the witches or any of this bullshit that it seemed he’d spent a lifetime collecting.
I wanted to get my answers and then get the fuck out of here and back to Maddie. It wasn’t until we got to the Trimoon pack that I realized I’d left her alone with Logan, and by then I had half a mind to turn around and go back, throw my little brother in the car and take him with me—and away from her.
I swear to God, if he pulls her into any more shit I’m going to lose it. Everything I’m doing is to ensure her safety, if anybody jeopardizes that—or even if Maddie chooses it herself—I’m putting them all on lockdown and throwing away the key.
My thought process on all the ways I was going to kick my brother’s ass if he let her do some dumb shit was cut short when an ominous gust of wind blew in from nowhere.
Mathias raised his head and looked at the doors that flew open on their own accord.
“She’s here.”
Not sure what I expected. Maybe a wrinkly old hag with a cane and rotten teeth—a hunched back dressed in torn shreds, but it certainly wasn’t what I saw.
The girl wasn’t old, nor disfigured—her silver hair swayed around her waist and the stilettos clicked on the wooden boards.
“Are these our guests?” she asked sweetly and stopped in front of Malania, whose jaw was on the floor and a tinkle erupted in her eyes.
Fucking hell.
‘Don’t you fucking dare fall for a witch.’
If she did, she could go and live in her cave because no way I am allowing one of them into my pack.
Malania rolled her eyes from the mind link and reached out her hand.
“I am Malania, this is Alpha Noah,” she said.
“Pleasure, I’m Freya,” she shook Malania’s hand, keeping it there for a short moment, and searching her face. When she moved on to me, hand outstretched for me to grab, I kept mine down.
“It’s quite disrespectful not to shake the hand of the person whose help you are inquiring, don’t you think?” Freya smiled and stepped closer. “My touch won’t hex you.”
Malania impatiently flicked her head, wanting me to shake hands with the girl. The witch.
Fine.
“Alpha Noah of the Obsidian Pack.” Our palms pressed together, fingers folding around the back of our knuckles. She had a strong grip, but it wasn’t her strength that bothered me; it was the way she looked at me, like she already knew why we were there. As though everything she needed to know came to her from that one touch.
“Hm,” she said and dropped her hand. “Pleasure.”
It was the heaviest moment of silence I’d ever experienced, and I was constantly on my guard to make sure she didn’t pull one over on us. I didn’t trust witches. Never had, never would.
But we needed her help, and that was all we were here for.
“You’re worried about a loved one,” Freya said it as though there wasn’t a doubt in her mind. I knew that handshake would bite me in the ass.
“We need your help finding a witch.”
“Who?” If I knew that, I wouldn’t need you, now would I?
“We don’t know,” I said. Better stay on her good graces. Witches were notoriously proud. Any form of disrespect—what they viewed as disrespect—usually ended up in them turning their backs on you, or losing their temper. I’m strong against werewolves, but I haven’t ever measured my strength against a witch.
“That’s why we’re here,” Malania said. “We need your help tracking her down, but we don’t have any information to go on.”
Malania wasn’t a social butterfly; she rarely talked unless spoken to, but I guess a pretty girl was all that was needed to loosen her tongue.
“You have nothing for me to go on?” she asked.
“No. Can you help us or not?” I asked.
A soft chuckle pulled her lips back, and she gazed at Mathias like a long-lost friend.
“You were right, he’s an impatient one.” Mathias nodded in agreement, and they looked oddly, unnaturally cozy together. There should be some air of discomfort or fear, but they seemed to be as close as two werewolves.
“Tell me what she’s done, maybe I can get an inkling of this person from the mess they’ve created.”
Could I trust her?
What fucking choice do you have? Onyx reminded me.
“She manipulated my—” I stopped, reevaluated my words and corrected myself. “—messed with one of my pack members.”
“How?”
“By tampering with her wolf. She turned eighteen a couple of weeks ago and her wolf was…” How do I say it without sounding insane? “The wolf went rogue, didn’t listen to her, they can’t hear each other’s thoughts and my wolf can’t sense her.”
Freya’s eyes went from narrow and focused to doubling in size.
End of The Alpha's Gamble Chapter 104. Continue reading Chapter 105 or return to The Alpha's Gamble book page.