Calvin's POV
Hopelessness was a poison that seeped into every corner of my life. No matter how hard I tried to shake it off, it clung to me, a suffocating shroud.
For months, I had tried everything-letters, emissaries, messengers, and desperate pleas-but it was no use. Not a single Pack wanted to be associated with us. Not after the children's deaths. The weight of what had happened to our firstborns had turned us into pariahs. The news spread fast, faster than even I could have anticipated. Stories of death, sorrow, and desperation painted the Obsidian Pack as cursed, as a place to be avoided at all costs.
The once-bustling Pack lands now felt hollow, every corner of it a reminder of what we'd lost. Mothers who had buried their children wandered aimlessly, their eyes hollow, their grief so loud it felt like a scream ringing in my ears day and night. Fathers clung to their surviving families, but even they looked at me with resentment burning in their eyes. I'd spent weeks, months, trying to figure out a way out of this but no matter what I did, no one seemed to have the answers to our plight or even the simple question of what we had done to deserve this.
"Alpha," Franklin's voice broke through my thoughts. He stood at the door of my office, his face pale. "We've received another refusal. The Moon Rock Pack…" He didn't finish the sentence; he didn't have to.
"Let me guess," I said bitterly, slumping back in my chair. "They've denied us. Again."
Franklin nodded. "Not just that. They've made it clear they'll consider it an act of aggression if we approach their borders again."
The anger that simmered inside me threatened to boil over. "Damn them all," I muttered, slamming my fist onto the desk. "Cowards, the lot of them! They won't even consider helping us!"
Franklin stepped closer, his voice soft but firm. "Can you blame them, Alpha? They think we're cursed. The Moon Goddess herself has turned her back on us-that's what they believe. That's what everyone believes."
His words stung because they echoed my own fears. Were we cursed? Had we truly been abandoned by the Goddess? I had no answers, only more questions that clawed at the edges of my sanity.
For months, I had scoured every resource, exhausted every contact, and turned over every stone in search of answers. I couldn't stand it any longer. The deaths of the children, the droughts, the famine-it couldn't just be coincidence. Something was wrong. Something beyond my control.
I ran a hand through my hair, the weight of leadership pressing harder than ever. "There has to be a way," I muttered. "There has to be someone who can give us answers."
Franklin hesitated. "There might be someone…"
I looked up sharply. "Who?"
"There's talk of a witch who resides beyond the Silver Pines," Franklin said reluctantly. "She's powerful, but she's… difficult. She doesn't take kindly to visitors."
I didn't care about her temperament. If she could help us, I would do whatever it took.
The journey to the witch's dwelling was grueling. The Silver Pines were a dangerous place, shrouded in mist and filled with predators. But I pressed on, driven by the desperation clawing at my soul. By the time I reached the ramshackle cabin hidden deep within the forest, I was drenched in sweat and barely able to catch my breath.
The dim light of the small cabin flickered across the wooden walls, casting shifting shadows that danced ominously around me. The air was thick with the cloying scent of herbs and smoke, curling from an assortment of jars and dried plants hanging from the ceiling. My patience was already wearing thin.
"Are you certain this is where she is?" I hissed under my breath to Franklin, who stood uneasily behind me, shifting from foot to foot.
"She's our best shot," he muttered, glancing toward the heavy wooden door that separated us from the elusive witch.
Before I could reply, the door creaked open, and a hooded figure stepped out. Her voice was raspy but commanding. "Alpha Calvin of the Obsidian Pack."
She didn't bow, didn't even feign respect. My wolf growled low in my chest, irritated by the slight, but I ignored Fenrir's snarls and stepped forward.
"I need answers," I said bluntly. "And I was told you can provide them."
The woman tilted her head, her face obscured by her hood. "What makes you think I'll help you?"
Her indifference stoked the simmering frustration inside me. "Because if you don't, I'll ensure you regret it," I snapped.
The witch let out a hollow, humorless laugh. "Typical of you Alphas," she sneered. "Threats may work on your subjects, but they have no power here."
I clenched my fists, fighting to suppress my anger. "You don't understand the gravity of the situation. My Pack is dying-children, families, everyone. Something unnatural is at work, and if you know what it is, you owe it to yourself to tell me."
Her expression didn't soften. "You assume I owe you anything, Alpha. The truth is that I don't, you came to me so act like it."
I gritted, my wolf rising to the surface but I dug my nails into my palm to keep him at bay. How dare she disrespect me like this?
"Listen up hag, my Pack is suffering, and I need to know why. You're going to tell me. If you don't start talking, be sure I won't hesitate to rip you to shreds." I threatened, more than willing to make good on it.
With everything that had been going on, I'd give anything to vent.
"Then go ahead, Alpha. Kill me, I've lived a full life. But I'm your only hope of ever finding the truth. Once I'm dead, you have no one else to turn to for answers." She spoke calmly and it irked me to no end.
I hated the surety in her voice, the confidence. I hated most that she was right.
"Fine, what do you want? I don't have much to offer. As you already know, my Pack is in a dire situation and…"
"The only thing I want is your humility, Alpha. Beg for my help." She cut in, her words striking me like an arrow to the chest.