Chapter 9
The training grounds of Red Tail Pack spread wide beneath the morning sun, a field of packed earth bordered by jagged stone and ringed with wooden posts scarred by years of blows. Here, every wolf learned to fight, to bleed, to rise again. Today, the ground belonged to Cassie.
Her palms were raw, her muscles burning, yet Beta Carlos’s voice left no room for rest.
“Again.”
Cassie gritted her teeth, lifted the weighted staff, and swung. Her arms trembled, the strike uneven, but she corrected, forcing strength from somewhere deeper. The staff cracked against the wooden post, splinters spraying the ground.
“Better,” Carlos said, pacing around her like a wolf circling prey. His eyes, sharp and unforgiving, measured her not as Alpha’s daughter but as a soldier. “But strength without balance is wasted. Do you plan to split skulls, girl, or leave yourself open for a blade?”
She adjusted her stance, sweat dampening her hairline. “I won’t leave myself open.”
Carlos’s mouth twitched—approval, perhaps, though his tone remained flinty. “Then prove it. Again.”
Around the field, young warriors paused their own drills to watch. Cassie felt their eyes, their unspoken judgment. The Alpha’s daughter. The fragile one. Protected by veil and prophecy. She tightened her grip, swung harder, faster, until her arms screamed and her lungs clawed for air.
At last, Carlos barked, “Enough.” He stepped close, plucked the staff from her trembling hands, and held it between them. His voice dropped low, for her ears alone.
“You want them to see more than a sheltered girl. Good. But strength is not in the arm, Cassie. It’s here.” He tapped her temple. Then her chest. “And here. Control your fear, master your will, and your enemies will fall before you’ve lifted a blade.”
Cassie swallowed, nodding. For the first time, she caught a flicker of pride in his gaze.
Before she could answer, the air shifted—cooler, stranger. A faint rustle swept the field though no wind stirred the trees. Every wolf stilled.
At the far edge of the training ground, figures appeared: three women cloaked in deep green, their eyes gleaming with secrets. The witches of Wonder Woods.
A murmur rippled through the onlookers. Some bowed their heads in wary respect, others spat on the ground in mistrust. But none dared approach.
Carlos stiffened, his hand brushing the dagger at his side. “They come bold, walking into the heart of our ground.”
Cassie’s heart quickened. She had felt their presence before, like shadows threading the corners of her dreams. Now, in daylight, their strangeness was sharper—wild yet regal, like the woods themselves had given them form.
The eldest witch stepped forward, her hair black as raven feathers, her voice carrying with eerie calm.
“We seek an audience with Alpha Elias. But first, with the child.”
Cassie flinched at the word, but Carlos stepped between them, his stance protective, defiant. “She is not a child. And she is not yours to command.”
The witch’s lips curved faintly. “Protective, this one. That is well. But even stone cannot shield flame forever.” Her gaze shifted to Cassie, piercing, unreadable. “The fire in you grows, girl. We have cloaked it, bent it, hidden it from the Elders’ eyes. But it stirs. Do you feel it?”
Cassie hesitated. Images stirred at the edges of her mind—dreams of red moons, voices whispering in forgotten tongues, a heat beneath her skin that sometimes pulsed when the moon was high. She swallowed hard. “I… don’t know what I feel.”
The witch only nodded, as if satisfied. “You will. Soon.”
Before Carlos could bristle further, a horn sounded from the keep. Alpha Elias approached with his guard, his presence cutting through tension like a blade.
“Witches of Wonder Woods,” Elias said, his voice deep, cautious but steady. “You arrive unbidden.”
The eldest witch inclined her head, neither bow nor defiance, simply acknowledgment. “We arrive with purpose.”
Elias’s gaze was hard. “Speak it, then. Why do you stand on Red Tail soil?”
The witch’s eyes flicked briefly to Cassie, then back. “Because the veil we cast will not hold without risk. The Elders grow restless. Already they sniff for truth. If we are to continue our protection, we require assurance.”
“Assurance?” Orin snarled from behind Elias, his hand twitching toward his blade. “You come with riddles and demands? You should be grateful you walked from the forest alive.”
The second witch, pale and sharp-eyed, spoke then. “Do not mistake us, wolf. We serve the prophecy, not your pride. Our safety must be secured. No pack—yours or another—may move against us while we weave the shadows that guard your bloodline. That is our price.”
A low growl rippled among the gathered wolves. To grant witches freedom from interference was no small thing. It meant allowing them to act unchecked, their power beyond the reach of tooth and claw.
Elias studied them, his jaw tight. “And if I refuse?”
The eldest witch’s smile was thin, humorless. “Then the veil fades. The Elders will see what they hunt. And your daughter will burn before her fire has kindled.”
The words struck like steel. Wolves bristled, but none spoke. Cassie felt her stomach twist. Her life, her pack’s safety, bound in bargains she barely understood.
Carlos leaned close to Elias, his voice low. “This reeks of a trap. To give them sanctuary is to surrender the leash and collar both.”
But Jonah, standing on Elias’s other side, whispered, “Without them, she is lost. And prophecy with her.”
Elias’s eyes flickered between the two men, then settled on the witches. His voice, when it came, was steady, resolute.
“Very well. You shall have protection. No wolf of Red Tail will raise fang or blade against you. While you weave your shadows, you are under my law.”
A ripple of shock moved through the council, but the witches only inclined their heads.
“Wise,” the eldest said softly. “For the storm gathers fast. And when it breaks, you will need more than warriors to weather it.”
With that, they turned as one, vanishing into the treeline as if the forest had swallowed them whole.
Silence lingered long after they were gone.
Carlos spat on the ground. “They bind us with their words. Mark me, Alpha—witches deal in debts, not gifts. This bargain will cost us dearly.”
Elias’s gaze fell on Cassie, who still stood at the training post, her staff trembling in her grip. He saw the fear in her eyes, the questions unasked. And beneath it, a glimmer of steel.
“Then we pay what must be paid,” Elias said, his voice low, heavy. “For her. For all of us.”
The council dispersed, muttering, restless. Cassie remained, staring at the trees where the witches had gone.
Carlos placed a hand on her shoulder, rough but steady. “Do not let their riddles shake you, girl. Your strength will not come from them. It will come from here.” He tapped her chest again. “And I will see it drawn out, if it kills us both.”
Cassie met his gaze, her fear hardening into resolve. For the first time, she believed him.
But as the sun dipped low and shadows deepened, she could not shake the feeling that the witches’ warning was true. A storm was coming. And she was at its heart.
