The Alpha's Gamble - Chapter 112: Chapter 112

NOAH
Not sure if it was the last sliver of hope trying to keep me alive, or if it was one of those beautiful final moments, when your life flashes through your mind just before the end, but every memory was filled with her.
I tasted Maddie’s lips. I felt her warm skin when I hugged her. I remembered wiping her tears and regretted not telling her sooner how, even though my presence calmed her demons, hers gave mine meaning. She didn’t just ground me, she made me. Everything I thought I lacked began to take shape in her presence.
She made me forget who I had been, and I liked who I became. Even if it was for a short while, I was proud to die as that man.
A raspy breath cut through the air, followed by a sharp inhale, and I felt the floor shift beneath my palms.
My vision slowly returned. The black dots in my eyes dimmed. I looked up.
Emerelda was twisting her hands in slow, controlled movements. Her arm stretched across her body as the candles around us ignited into flame.
Freya walked through the front door, which slammed shut behind her.
Sweat trickled down my temple. As air rushed back into my lungs, Malania helped me up. I staggered to my feet.
What the hell was I supposed to do against a witch?
Freya wasn’t supposed to fight. That had never been the plan. Magic against magic—that was the rule. I fought werewolves. I wasn’t trained for this. None of us were. We’d spent a lifetime ignoring witches, pretending our worlds didn’t intersect. Maybe that was our first mistake. The second was thinking that staying away meant staying safe.
“Onyx, are you ready?”
“To fight a raging witch who nearly killed us? Sure.”
I braced myself to shift. Onyx rose to the surface—I felt his power stir—but it never came.
I looked up just as Freya locked eyes with me. She let out a scream and circled her hands. The windows shattered, and shards of glass flew at Emerelda.
“Stay out of this!” Freya warned, thrusting her hand out and sending a gust of wind that shoved me backward.
Frames fell off the walls. Tables levitated like they weighed nothing and slammed into each other. The two women moved like storms, dodging, blocking, colliding. The house wrecked around them, but they remained mostly untouched aside from a few cuts and scratches.
A chair flew toward Malania’s head, but her focus was locked on Freya. I reached out and caught one of the legs mid-air, throwing it aside. This wasn’t going anywhere.
They’d keep going until one of them was dead, and by then it would be too late. We needed her alive.
“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Onyx’s voice roared with mine, echoing in the wrecked house.
They both stopped, panting, tense, watching each other.
“We’re not here to kill you,” I said, stepping toward Emerelda. Her eyes burned with rage, flicking between Freya and me, gearing up for another round.
“You need to get that fucking wolf out of my girl’s head. Then you can go back to your suburban life, as you want.”
“No. I made a deal,” she snapped.
“What was the price?” Maybe I could match it.
“The wolf.”
“What wolf?”
She rolled her eyes. “The one that’s in your previous girl.”
Tilly. She would never willingly give up her wolf—definitely not permanently.
“Who did you make the deal with?” I asked.
She flicked her raven-black hair over her shoulder, straightening her suit jacket. “The cute one. Said she was your ex. It was easy to sway her—didn’t have to do much. She did all the talking and asking… and all the sacrificing. Others’ sacrifices, of course. But I accepted.”
“Was the vessel aware that her wolf was being taken?”
“Of course. I needed her permission. The severity of it, however? I don’t know.”
I stepped forward, shielding Freya with my body. My eyes locked on Emerelda’s, and for the first time, she stepped back.
“Please take the wolf out of Madeline.”
I had to consider the cost. Tilly was my pack member, but she’d betrayed everything: her pack, her Alpha, her own kind.
“You can keep the wolf as your own.”
A spark lit in her eyes. I had her attention.
To sweeten the offer, and maybe to avoid more bloodshed, I added something that I hoped wouldn’t come back to bite me.
“We’ll also leave you alone. We won’t come for you. You can live your life in peace, on one condition. You don’t fatally harm humans or werewolves again.”
“How about witches?” she asked, biting her lip and eyeing Freya.
“Oh, don’t you worry. We’re fair game. I beg you to try.”
Despite the eye roll and mock reluctance, Emerelda eventually turned and walked through the ruined house. She grabbed a worn leather bag and rummaged through it, pulling out a thick stack of books; spellbooks, bound in dark leather with sigils pressed into the covers.
“Did you live here?” Malania asked, her voice softer now. Her gaze lingered on the woman’s body, still lying near the door.
“I did. But she didn’t know it.”
That’s fucked up. The poor girl had no idea a psycho witch had been squatting in her house.
“This is the spell. Memorize it, because the book’s staying here,” she said, shoving the heavy thing into Freya’s hands.
It was a full damn page of nonsense syllables strung into something that passed as magic. No way she could memorize that…
“Got it,” Freya said, eyes already scanning the page.
She better have.
Freya handed the book back. We stepped outside one by one—Malania, me, and finally Freya, who didn’t turn her back until she crossed the threshold.
We headed to the car, all of us glancing over our shoulders as we moved. No one trusted her not to throw something at us.
When the engine roared to life and we pulled away down the road, I finally felt like we were starting to turn things around.
“Are you really going to let her live?” Freya asked from the backseat.
“As long as she sticks to the agreement. Yes.”
I glanced at her in the mirror, then turned onto the main road.
“Thank you for following us.”
Freya nodded and slumped back into her seat.