Jara's gone
Jara's gone
The air in Lena’s realm shimmered with heat and lightning. Erin stood in the center of the training ground, chest heaving, sweat running down her brow as her storm lashed wildly around her wolf form. Clouds churned overhead, bolts of lightning splitting into arcs of blue fire as her claws dug into the black earth.
“Again,” Lena commanded, her voice firm but not unkind. “You’re holding back.”
“I’m not—” Erin gritted her teeth as the storm sputtered, then roared back twice as hard, cracking trees at the edge of the field. Her legs trembled under the strain. “I can’t—”
“Yes, you can.” Lena stepped closer, her own aura rippling like molten flame. “You must. Your enemies won’t care about your fear.”
Erin’s storm flared violently, nearly out of her control—
—when, far away in the mortal realm, the first raven arrived.
\---
In Nick’s war hall, torches sputtered as the raven croaked and dropped a scrap of parchment into Marcia’s hands. The sigil on it pulsed faintly silver. She froze.
Nick immediately noticed her expression. “What is it?”
Her eyes scanned the words—short, sharp, devastating.
“The Council…” her voice caught, then hardened. “They’re dead. Alfonso slaughtered them.”
Gasps echoed through the hall. Druids slammed fists against tables, Jara’s sharp inhale was a knife in the silence, and Nick’s jaw tightened with fury.
“Alfonso,” he growled, eyes flashing gold, “has declared war.”
\---
Back in Lena’s realm, Erin stumbled, her storm shattering into chaos as her knees hit the ground. Lena darted forward, steadying her.
“Stop fighting yourself,” Lena whispered urgently, lifting her chin so Erin’s eyes met hers. “Don’t you feel it? Something has shifted. The world is trembling. It’s coming.”
Erin’s heart thundered in her chest, her storm breaking like glass before settling into a frightening, charged calm. She didn’t know why, but deep inside, she felt it too.
\---
At the same time, the druids’ grove erupted in outrage as another raven dropped its message onto the roots of the ancient tree.
And in her quiet chambers, Victoria leaned back in her chair, lips curving faintly as she felt the magic of her ravens unravel into truth across realms.
The storm begins, she thought. And my child will be ready.
Jara had been quiet for weeks, her instincts gnawing at her like a wolf’s teeth. She knew Henry was hiding something. His eyes no longer burned with the same loyalty; his footsteps lingered too long in corridors where no one walked. And the scroll—that cursed fake prophecy—still haunted her thoughts.
Tonight, she followed him.
The forest was hushed, moonlight filtering through the branches in silver slivers. She kept her distance, her Gamma senses sharp, until Henry stopped at a clearing lit by the pale glow of runes etched into the earth.
And then… Alfonso’s shadow flickered through the runes, speaking in a whisper.
Jara’s blood ran cold.
“You’ve done well,” Alfonso’s voice hissed. “Her faith in Nick wavers. Keep her apart from him.”
Henry bowed his head, shame flashing across his features—but his voice was steady. “I will. For Erin’s sake.”
“For your jealousy’s sake,” Alfonso sneered back, though there was cruel amusement in his tone.
Jara stepped forward, fury tightening her chest. “Henry… what have you done?”
Henry whirled, his eyes widening when he saw her. For a heartbeat, guilt cracked his mask. “Jara, you weren’t supposed to—”
“You betrayed us,” she spat, her wolf snarling inside. “You betrayed her.”
“Jara, please, it’s not what you think,” Henry pleaded, his voice trembling. “I’m protecting Erin. If she stays with Nick—”
“You’re lying!” Her claws slid free, gleaming in the moonlight. “You love her, but love twisted into poison. This isn’t protection—it’s betrayal.”
Henry’s face twisted. Anguish. Rage. And something darker, hungry.
“I can’t let you tell them.”
The fight was brief but brutal—Gamma against Beta. Jara’s claws slashed, Henry countered, but his desperation lent him strength. With a final, heart-wrenching cry, he drove his blade deep into her chest.
Her breath hitched, her golden eyes widening as she fell into his arms.
“You… coward,” she rasped, blood staining her lips. “She’ll never be yours. Never.”
Her eyes dimmed, her body going still.
Henry staggered back, horror flashing across his face as he looked down at what he’d done. His hands shook, but he forced his jaw to harden.
“Forgive me, Jara,” he whispered, tears cutting down his cheeks. “You left me no choice.”
He dragged her body into the shadows, burying the truth beneath leaves and earth. But no amount of dirt could bury the weight of what he’d done.
For the first time, Henry truly felt like the traitor Alfonso had molded him into.
And in the distance, a raven circled overhead, silver eyes glinting.
Victoria had seen.
The Gamma’s absence was a wound no one could ignore. Jara wasn’t just a warrior; she was the sharp mind that balanced Nick’s authority, the calm voice that steadied Henry’s temper, the wolf who laughed loudest around the bonfire after a hunt. And now, she was simply… gone.
At first, the whispers were hopeful.
“She’s scouting the borderlands, she’ll be back.”
“Maybe Alpha sent her ahead—Nick always trusted her with missions.”
“She’s Gamma. She knows how to vanish when she wants.”
But days turned into a week, and hope soured into unease.
The patrol wolves sniffed the air at night, catching phantom traces of her scent, then shaking their heads. Hunters sat in silence by the fire, eyes flicking toward the tree line as if expecting her to stride back in with that crooked grin. Mothers hushed their pups when they asked where Jara was.
The pack was restless, unsettled. Wolves were creatures of order, of bond and trust—one of them disappearing without a trace was like losing a limb.
And then the whispers changed:
“What if Alfonso’s men took her?”
“Or worse… what if she betrayed us?”
“No. Not Jara. Never Jara.”
Every rumor was poison, eroding morale. Suspicion hung heavy in the air, shadows lengthening over the campfires.
Nick felt the unease sharper than anyone. Gamma wolves didn’t just vanish. If Jara had left, there would be a reason, a trail, a message. But there was nothing—only silence. And silence, in Nick’s world, was a warning.
He could sense the bond of his pack fraying, tension sparking like dry tinder. He needed to keep them steady. But deep inside, instinct clawed at him: something darker was at play.