The Alpha's Gamble - Chapter 98: Chapter 98
You are reading The Alpha's Gamble, Chapter 98: Chapter 98. Read more chapters of The Alpha's Gamble.
NOAH
“It wasn’t me,” she seethed.
I turned to Logan, needing to just rail her in. We were so fucking close.
“Have the warriors bring her parents in. Tell them that if they resist, they’ll be sharing a cell with their daughter. They can each pack one bag, no more.” Those were the rules. You were allowed to pack one bag, stuff it with as much of your life as you can, and the rest has to be left behind. It was later torched, and the house was resold.
“Noah—”
“Cut it out, Olivia.”
“It wasn’t me!”
“Great, you can keep repeating those words at your hearing.”
“It was the fucking witch!”
My laughs echoed against the concrete walls, and the puddles of blood vibrated. Circles formed on the surface and thudded with each new drop that fell.
“I thought you said it wasn’t you,” I winked.
“The witch knocked her out, Landon dragged her down to the cellar, and I closed the doors. That’s all I did, I closed them! The witch did all the rest!”
A fucking witch?
‘Check your face,’ Logan said through the mind link. I plastered on a smirk, my eyes shifting in disbelief and again I laughed.
“Anything to save your ass, huh?”
“I’m not. It’s the truth. I didn’t hit her and I didn’t drag her anywhere.” Her voice mellowed into something of a little girl, frightened and desperate. She rounded her eyes and looked up through her lashes.
The witch did the rest.
The rest.
Olivia closed the doors, and the witch did the rest.
It was a fucking witch involved. Suddenly, it wasn’t so mystical. The pieces fell into place, a clear view formed and it all made much more sense now. It wasn’t a fluke or a sick act of fate. It was literally magic. God, I hated witches. I’d only ever come across one once when I was a kid, out in the field with my father, traveling to find the source of some messy rogues. Turned out that a dark witch was helping them set camp, protecting them while they schemed and planned to overthrow a pack. Their strength was beyond the ordinary. They were low in numbers, yet they plowed through the pack and ravaged everything. Pack members were slaughtered, children taken, never to be found, and nobody understood how the hell they succeeded.
The Alpha was killed. An appointed rogue took his place, and once they set roots, a neighboring pack called us. We went out in search of the source of their strength, knowing they wouldn’t stop until they had taken revenge on the packs that had shunned them.
Rogues were feral, taught to survive on scraps and lies when, for whatever reason, they were shunned and discarded as a virus from their packs. It was rare for a pack to accept a rogue, and there were tests, examinations, and interrogations that ultimately decided whether or not they were stable, disconnected from other rogues, and truly wanted to live out a new life. What got them shunned to begin with is a big deal breaker, but there were times when a member left for various reasons and decided to go off on their own in hopes that they would find a new home.
We had a few, very few, that had been accepted over the last century. They had acclimated into our pack, but it took years for each one to be trusted and find community.
For feral rogues to form packs was not uncommon, but it more often than not made them angrier, more vengeful, and they formed a sinister connection with each other that over time chipped away whatever humanity they had left.
We found the witch who had helped them. Born in the darkness and hidden by shadows, she lived on barren land because she had forsaken nature. With her help, they were protected, stronger, and she promised their survival and victory in their conquest. The price for such protection was steep. We knew that going in, but what exactly these wolves were paying was unknown until we saw the discarded skeletons on the land surrounding her house. Small and thin, they lay scattered while vultures pecked at what flesh remained.
That was why they had spared the children when overtaking the pack, why there were no children among the rogue pack to begin with. It was an oddity not to have pups, a question that circulated my father’s conversations with the others who joined the hunt. But to see the fate of defenseless young children was beyond what I expected we’d find.
It was no werewolf’s business to decide over a witch’s destiny when found. It wasn’t in our power to sentence another species. That was the day my father spoke the words that burned into my skull, and I’ve carried them with me ever since:
“Power sometimes lies in the decisions we make for the future in justice for the past, and not in the rules that have been written by someone unaware of either.”
“The witch attacked Maddie,” I said. Logan’s spine pressed against the cellar door, and Milania supported herself on the wall outside the cell.
“Yes, I wouldn’t do that. She’s lying to you, wanting to widen the rift between us. I’m not dumb, Noah. I know that if I did something like that, you’d never forgive me.” It came out in her most docile tone, bending her neck and pouting her lip.
“I’m glad.” I grabbed her hand, played with her fingers as I entwined them with mine. “Who’s the witch?”
She shook her head and heaved a breath. Her eyes rested on where my thumb rubbed her knuckles.
“I don’t know. I never got a name.”
“Who handled the deal?”
“I did.”
“How did you find her?”
“I didn’t.” Olivia’s eyes fell, a grim darkness formed in her eyes, and she lowered her voice.
“She found me.”
“It wasn’t me,” she seethed.
I turned to Logan, needing to just rail her in. We were so fucking close.
“Have the warriors bring her parents in. Tell them that if they resist, they’ll be sharing a cell with their daughter. They can each pack one bag, no more.” Those were the rules. You were allowed to pack one bag, stuff it with as much of your life as you can, and the rest has to be left behind. It was later torched, and the house was resold.
“Noah—”
“Cut it out, Olivia.”
“It wasn’t me!”
“Great, you can keep repeating those words at your hearing.”
“It was the fucking witch!”
My laughs echoed against the concrete walls, and the puddles of blood vibrated. Circles formed on the surface and thudded with each new drop that fell.
“I thought you said it wasn’t you,” I winked.
“The witch knocked her out, Landon dragged her down to the cellar, and I closed the doors. That’s all I did, I closed them! The witch did all the rest!”
A fucking witch?
‘Check your face,’ Logan said through the mind link. I plastered on a smirk, my eyes shifting in disbelief and again I laughed.
“Anything to save your ass, huh?”
“I’m not. It’s the truth. I didn’t hit her and I didn’t drag her anywhere.” Her voice mellowed into something of a little girl, frightened and desperate. She rounded her eyes and looked up through her lashes.
The witch did the rest.
The rest.
Olivia closed the doors, and the witch did the rest.
It was a fucking witch involved. Suddenly, it wasn’t so mystical. The pieces fell into place, a clear view formed and it all made much more sense now. It wasn’t a fluke or a sick act of fate. It was literally magic. God, I hated witches. I’d only ever come across one once when I was a kid, out in the field with my father, traveling to find the source of some messy rogues. Turned out that a dark witch was helping them set camp, protecting them while they schemed and planned to overthrow a pack. Their strength was beyond the ordinary. They were low in numbers, yet they plowed through the pack and ravaged everything. Pack members were slaughtered, children taken, never to be found, and nobody understood how the hell they succeeded.
The Alpha was killed. An appointed rogue took his place, and once they set roots, a neighboring pack called us. We went out in search of the source of their strength, knowing they wouldn’t stop until they had taken revenge on the packs that had shunned them.
Rogues were feral, taught to survive on scraps and lies when, for whatever reason, they were shunned and discarded as a virus from their packs. It was rare for a pack to accept a rogue, and there were tests, examinations, and interrogations that ultimately decided whether or not they were stable, disconnected from other rogues, and truly wanted to live out a new life. What got them shunned to begin with is a big deal breaker, but there were times when a member left for various reasons and decided to go off on their own in hopes that they would find a new home.
We had a few, very few, that had been accepted over the last century. They had acclimated into our pack, but it took years for each one to be trusted and find community.
For feral rogues to form packs was not uncommon, but it more often than not made them angrier, more vengeful, and they formed a sinister connection with each other that over time chipped away whatever humanity they had left.
We found the witch who had helped them. Born in the darkness and hidden by shadows, she lived on barren land because she had forsaken nature. With her help, they were protected, stronger, and she promised their survival and victory in their conquest. The price for such protection was steep. We knew that going in, but what exactly these wolves were paying was unknown until we saw the discarded skeletons on the land surrounding her house. Small and thin, they lay scattered while vultures pecked at what flesh remained.
That was why they had spared the children when overtaking the pack, why there were no children among the rogue pack to begin with. It was an oddity not to have pups, a question that circulated my father’s conversations with the others who joined the hunt. But to see the fate of defenseless young children was beyond what I expected we’d find.
It was no werewolf’s business to decide over a witch’s destiny when found. It wasn’t in our power to sentence another species. That was the day my father spoke the words that burned into my skull, and I’ve carried them with me ever since:
“Power sometimes lies in the decisions we make for the future in justice for the past, and not in the rules that have been written by someone unaware of either.”
“The witch attacked Maddie,” I said. Logan’s spine pressed against the cellar door, and Milania supported herself on the wall outside the cell.
“Yes, I wouldn’t do that. She’s lying to you, wanting to widen the rift between us. I’m not dumb, Noah. I know that if I did something like that, you’d never forgive me.” It came out in her most docile tone, bending her neck and pouting her lip.
“I’m glad.” I grabbed her hand, played with her fingers as I entwined them with mine. “Who’s the witch?”
She shook her head and heaved a breath. Her eyes rested on where my thumb rubbed her knuckles.
“I don’t know. I never got a name.”
“Who handled the deal?”
“I did.”
“How did you find her?”
“I didn’t.” Olivia’s eyes fell, a grim darkness formed in her eyes, and she lowered her voice.
“She found me.”
End of The Alpha's Gamble Chapter 98. Continue reading Chapter 99 or return to The Alpha's Gamble book page.