Chapter 125

The sound of raised voices in alarm drew me to the main hall, where a group of injured wolves had just returned from their mission. Their tattered clothes and bloodied limbs told me everything before a word was spoken, but I stepped forward, pushing past the worried murmurs of the gathered pack. “What happened?” I asked in a steady tone despite the unease I felt in my stomach. One of the scouts, a young wolf named Ezra, stepped forward. He winced while pressing a hand to a gash on his side. “When we out to the villages we noticed strange movements on their grounds. It was a rogue group. We tracked them to the outskirts of the eastern village,” he said with his voice tight with pain. “But they weren’t alone.” My heart sank. “Who was with them?” Ezra hesitated, glancing at his companions. “Witches,” he said finally. “Three of them. They weren’t just aiding the rogues—they were commanding them. The rogues fought like they didn’t care if they lived or died, and the witches used spells to b