Chapter 152: War Beginning

(Devion’s POV)

After Jazmine brought back the herbs, I sat silently, watching as Helena worked. She crushed and mixed the herbs with hands that looked practiced, her movements calm and efficient.

The scent of the herbs filled the room—sharp like antiseptic, but with a soft floral undertone I couldn’t quite name. Some of the herbs had good scent, it seems.

Then she pressed the mixture around the slashes and swollen parts of my body. It ached as she rubbed it. But I didn't pull back. After that, she carefully wrapped my elbows with fresh linen strips.

Something about the way she worked seemed to bring back memories I hadn't expected.

When I was younger and reckless during training, my mother would patch me up with her own homemade balms.

That memory crept into my chest, twisting it with a sadness I’d tried to overcome long ago.

I didn’t realize how much I missed having someone like that around—someone who cared, someone who attended to me when I was injured. Someone like a mother.

“There,” Helena said softly, her voice sounding warm to me.

“This should help those sore muscles loose up faster in days.” She said, her rough but gentle hand rested on my shoulder.

Her eyes, though looking tired, carried something looking motherly. She barely knew me, yet somehow, she seemed to want to comfort me.

I wasn't used to such kindness from outsiders. Yet this woman is treating me like her own son.

Jazmine’s voice broke the beautiful moment. “Well done, Mama Helena! Teach me how to mix those herbs later, okay? But first, come show me your secrets in the kitchen!” she said cheerfully, grabbing Helena by the hand.

Helena blinked, her expression caught between something like surprise and emotion before a smile appeared on her lips. She let Jazmine drag her off, already listening to her ideas about lunch.

I sat there, listening to their chatter becoming softer as they disappeared down the hall, leaving me with my thoughts.

It felt strange—no, right—to have that warmth under my roof. My own circle was full of selfish traitors—uncles driven by greed, so-called friends that betrayed me—but now, new bonds were growing, it seems.

Unexpected ones. Helena wasn’t just some doctor. She was good at it.

And maybe that was what both Jazmine and I had been starving for: the kind of motherly care that made you feel whole again.

I thought of Gretel. Nurturing this relationship with her family could help her adjust when I brought her back. I hope so. I can't wait to find her.

Good news awaits her. Our lives will be beautiful hopefully, and this time, I would not be careless to lose her again.

Later, over bowls of steaming stew which the women finished preparing, we discussed the mission ahead.

We still had two days left before we flew to Australia. I was surprised when Helena spoke up, looking hesitant.

“If I may…” she started, glancing around the table, “I think it’s important that I go with you when we approach Hayden. I can help talk to him… help negotiate Gretel’s release.”

I frowned. Her going meant more risk, and I didn’t want more innocent people in danger. But she must’ve noticed the frown on my face, because she tried to explain more.

“Hayden doesn’t like authoritative moves. He hates being challenged. But he'll hardly ignore me—not after everything we had. He listened to me once… maybe he still will.”

Her voice sounded painful. Maybe the memories hurt her. Anyways, this was her daughter we were talking about, and she seems to be willing to walk into the lion’s den for her.

I thought hard about what she said. Maybe having someone like her inside Hayden's home could help us more than any sword or gun. And it wasn’t just strategy anymore—it was personal, it seems.

“Alright,” I said after a long silence.

“You know him better than any of us. But you should stay close to us, and leave the dangerous parts to me and my men when it comes to it.” I suggested.

She looked relieved at that. She sighed and nodded. Jazmine reached for her hand over the table, holding it tightly.

There it was—three people who loved Gretel more. Because I'm not sure if her father would be among this list.

The next morning, I was woken up by a knock on my door. Not enough to startle, but firm enough to mean urgency.

“Alpha,” the guard on the other side said when I pulled the door open. “Kendrick’s awake.”

Curse that traitor.

Without a word, I stepped into the hallway and made my way toward the makeshift infirmary we’d converted into a holding room.

I walked quickly, feeling the tension coiling in my chest like a spring wound too tight. Kendrick waking up meant the next phase could begin. Information. Answers. Revenge.

He was still tied to the bed when I entered. Thick leather straps held his arms to the sides of the bed, and another kept his legs in place.

He looked rough—pale, sweaty, still healing—but his eyes snapped to mine when I entered. He was struggling to get free.

“Tied me up like a damn mutt,” he muttered, his voice grimly from disuse, I'd say.

“What now, Devion? You treating my wounds before you kill me? Ohhh, you're so twisted, you know that?”

I didn’t answer right away. I walked to the foot of the bed and stood there, arms crossed, looking him over.

Even now, wounded and bound, Kendrick managed to wear that cocky expression like a second skin.

But I wasn’t the same man who used to laugh beside him during fights or trust him with battle plans. That bond felt long gone.

“Yes. Once you’re no longer useful to me,” I said simply.

He scoffed, brow twitching in what seemed like pain. “So I’m still useful. Lucky me.”

I ignored his sarcasm and took a few steps closer. “I spoke to your contractor,” I said, letting the words sink in before continuing.

“Got into your phone while you were unconscious. Set up a meeting.” I added.

Kendrick's eyes snapped to me. Even with the restraints holding him down, I saw his whole body go tense like a wire being pulled tight.

Then he growled, low and dangerous, with a flash of something menacing in his eyes. “You don’t know what you’re getting into,” he warned, his voice sharper now.

“You don’t want to mess with those people, Devion. They won’t just kill you—they'll hunt down your bloodline. Your pack. The people you love.” He tried to warn me.

But I wasn't fazed.

I leaned down, meeting his glare head-on. “Then they’ll have to learn what happens when a wolf touches what’s mine.” I bit back.

His expression flickered at that. Maybe disbelief. Maybe fear. He seemed to recall what I was like when angry, but he didn’t know this version of me.

The one torn raw by betrayal, fueled by love for a mate stolen from my side, and driven by the need to end this web of lies.

I straightened up. “You picked the wrong side, Kendrick. You thought this would break me. But all it did was light a fire inside of me.”

He didn’t reply. Just watched me as I turned for the door.

I paused at the threshold. “You were my friend once. Maybe even my brother. But now… you’re just a traitor. And you’re going to help me bring your new allies to the ground before I kill you with them.”

Then I walked out, not bothering to look back at him. This was war. And there was barely any room for pity in war. And I had a mate to get back.