Chapter 57: With Fire comes Blood

Fire is such an unexpected wild beast.

“Everyone, there’s an emergency!” I announced with concern and fear. I did not stop my voice from trembling. Rising to my feet, I called out to every pack member I saw, including Bridgette and Beta Caleb. The urgency in my voice pierced through the night and I don’t give a fuck if the Volatile Hounds see their Luna being paranoid like this.

I must save my Grandmama with all I can.

“What’s wrong, Cass?” Alpha Zarion asked and looked at me with curiosity. Then his eyes shifted to worry. The once boisterous atmosphere fell into a hushed silence as my pack members turned their attention towards me, their expressions mirroring my growing apprehension.

“There’s a fire…” I whispered. I don’t know why hesitation struck me. “There’s fire!” Now I’m shouting, “And I think it’s near where I lived before.” I turned to my beloved man, his hand is now squeezing my shoulder. “My grandmother, Zarion… my grandmother. The cabin where I rescued you—what if something happens to her? What if the castle falls to ruin and only ashes remain—”

“We’ll check there.” Zarion is surprisingly calm. “You have to stay here.” Must stay here, as if he wanted to add.

I shook my head. “I’m coming with you.”

“Cassidy.”

“What? No! Of course not! I’m going with you!” I insisted with finality on my voice. Alpha Zarion licked his lower lip and sighed. “Fine, as long as you stay near me. Beside me. Okay?”

I nodded and without hesitation, we leaped into action, sprinting through the forest with primal grace. The Misty Forest came alive around us, as if echoing our worry, its buried secrets whispering through the trees.

Every step brought us closer to the blazing inferno that threatened to consume all I held dear.

As we approached the source of the fire, the acrid scent of smoke invaded my nostrils, stinging my werewolf senses.

A scene straight out of nightmares materialized before our eyes: a group of Rogues. The ousted werewolves huddled around the fire, their gleaming eyes reflecting the dancing flames.

Dread settled in the pit of my stomach as I realized the horror they had brought upon our sacred grounds.

But it was the sight that followed that shook me to my core. The Rogues were feasting upon the lifeless bodies of two human hunters, their blood staining the earth crimson. Their hearts on their palms, no longer beating.

My breath caught in my throat, and I stifled a shriek. I felt the weight of the moment press heavily upon me. This was not merely an act of survival; it was a brazen act of aggression against our kind.

War itself appeared on our doorstep without even bothering to knock.

Summoning every ounce of courage left in me this night, I stepped forward, my voice trembling but resolute. “Rogues! Leave this place at once or face the wrath of our pack,” I declared, my words resonating with an authority that surpassed my years of youth.

The Rogues turned their attention towards me, their eyes narrowing with a mix of curiosity and disdain. Tense silence hung in the air, as if time itself had frozen, holding its breath in anticipation. The outcome of this confrontation would determine not only the fate of my Grandmama but also the delicate balance of power within the world of werewolves.

No pack have started a war with the Rogues. Not yet. Perhaps now is the perfect time to strike.

Zarion sucked a breath, the only sound that vaguely shattered the quietude.

In that moment, as the fire crackled and the night watched with furious eyes, I understood the weight of my responsibility as a Luna. I am not only a Queen who wears the crown of moon nor the leader that stood beside Alpha as he commanded the rest of the Volatile Hounds Pack. Not even the breeding mare that a werewolf only claim when he’s in need of a good fuck.

A Luna is a warrior, a decision-maker. Willing to sacrifice everything for her pack and territory, for peace and vengeance.

Everybody might only see a couple of Rogues sneering beneath our eyes. But for me, I see a murderer—one who murdered an innocent friend. Elliot.

And tonight, I shall avenge him.

As the moon peeked through the branches above, casting its pale light upon the clearing, the Rogues finally spoke.

“Valerie Cavitt is my name and spilling your blood shall be my fame.”

I studied the female Rogue that spoke. “Valerie Cavitt,” I repeated, more like calling out her name for a challenge. I knew her face, her hair and eyes. She was the Rogue acquainted with Hestia when Zarion and I visited his father.

I knew it. The dimly lit area of this forest was filled with tension as I stood face-to-face with Valerie, a notorious Rogue with ties to Hestia. I glared into her defiant eyes, my own filled with determination. I had come too far, risked too much, to let her slip through my fingers without extracting the truth.

“Who sent you here?” I demanded with a fearsome voice, laced with steel and iron hoping that it would stab her directly in the heart. Every muscle in my body coiled, ready to strike if necessary. I knew Valerie was cunning and manipulative. She’d lie if needed. She’d kill if she wanted to.

But I had learned a thing or two about playing this dangerous game: kill the enemies and befriend the allies.

And that’s fucking what I’m going to do.

“That—” she pointed a finger to me, “That shall be our little harmless secret.” Her reply is undoubtedly sarcastic, a wicked smile curling on her lips. Valerie let out a mocking laugh that echoed through the rustling trees, her defiance fueling the fire within me. My patience was wearing thin, and I couldn't afford to waste any more time.

I couldn't afford to waste any more lives.

Without hesitation, I lunged forward, my fist connecting with her face in a resounding crack. Valerie stumbled backward, blood trickling from her split lip. But her laughter didn't cease. Instead, it escalated more, becoming louder. Mocking me, taunting me.

“You think you can break me, Luna Cassidy?” she spat, wiping away the blood with the back of her hand. “You're just as naive as they say.” She leaned her body forward as if I was just a breath away. “You’re weak, Cass. As fragile as a butterfly’s wings.”

I fought to maintain my composure, refusing to let her words unravel me. Break me. Weaken me. Her defiance is indeed a mask, a desperate attempt to regain control over me and my pack.

But I wouldn't allow her to hold sway over me, not when so much was at stake.

Not when she was the one who slit Elliot’s throat, his stench of fear still lingering in her clothes.

I will kill you, Valerie.

“I will fucking kill you, bitch.”