Chapter 113 CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTEEN

Chapter 113 CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTEEN
RAINA

I wipe the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand, the cloth in my fingers already soaked with blood and herbal paste. The longhouse feels smaller every day. My trainees, Leonora with her steady hands, Tomas whose strength makes him good for holding down thrashing wolves, and quiet Selene who mixes the tonics — move like shadows around me. We’re all stretched thin, bones aching, eyes burning from lack of sleep. Another attack this morning. Three dead, eleven injured, some so badly mauled that I wonder if they’ll ever run on four legs again.

“Raina, the one with the torn shoulder is bleeding through the bandage again,” Leonora calls, her voice hoarse.

I nod and push myself forward, ignoring the way my legs protest. I press fresh comfrey and yarrow into the wound and the warrior winces but thanks me with a weak growl. My wolf stirs inside, restless and grieving for the pack mates we lost today. Every day it’s the same. Rogues strike at our borders, we fight them off, drag the wounded back, and I pour everything I have into saving them. But it’s never enough. I want to do more than patch wounds and ease pain. I want this to end. Seeing injured wolves during a war never gets better.

By the time the sun dips low, the worst of the injuries are stable. I step outside, breathing deep the cool evening air, but the weight on my chest doesn’t lift. Helplessness claws at me. I’m the pack healer. This is what I trained for, what my mother trained me for. Yet every new attack chips away at that certainty. Caius needs solutions, not just bandages. The witches need breakthroughs. And I… I need air. I need space. I need clarity.

“I’m stepping out for a while,” I tell Leonora, squeezing her shoulder. “Call me if anything worsens, but try to rest too. All of you.”

She gives me a tired smile and nods.

I head toward the forest edge, my feet carrying me along the familiar path without thought. The trees welcome me as I slip between their trunks, leaves brushing my arms like old friends. This is my spot—a small clearing beside a quiet stream, where the canopy opens just enough for moonlight to filter through. No one comes here much. It’s mine. A place where the pack’s constant demands fade away.

I sink onto the mossy stone, knees drawn up, and let the exhaustion settle over me like a heavy cloak. The stream babbles softly, carrying away some of the tension in my shoulders. I close my eyes and breathe slow, deliberate breaths.

I sit there for what feels like hours, the forest darkening around me as night claims the sky. My mind turns over every detail I’ve gathered — the way the rogues move in unnatural packs, their resistance to silver bullets, the way they’re not affected by witches magic and seem to drain the witches. There has to be something that we’re not getting yet.

Then it clicks.

Moira’s voice echoes in my memory from a few days ago. They had seen the memories of one of the rogues and in it, vampires, the priestess, and a mysterious Alpha gathered to turn the rogues into bigger monsters than they already are.

My eyes snap open. The stream seems louder now, matching the sudden rush in my veins. Three bloods to make them. Three different sources woven together in dark magic. My heart pounds as the idea sharpens. If the bloods of the three factions created this curse, maybe the same blood could unravel it. A counter-spell. We can’t do anything about stopping them, they’ve already been made, but maybe we can use it to find a way to remove what is making the witches unable to harm the rogues. Caius’s blood as alpha, Moira’s as a witch, and we’d need to find a vampire. But the principle feels right.

I leap to my feet, energy surging through me despite the long day. This could be it. We’ve been on defense, maybe this is finally our own way of being on the offence. Branches whip past me as I tear through the forest, feet flying over roots and stones I know by heart. My wolf pushes forward, lending speed and strength. The pack house lights appear ahead, warm and familiar. I don’t slow until I reach Caius’s office.

I burst into the room, chest heaving, and eyes wide with hope. Caius and Maeva stand from their chairs immediately, ready to fight.

“Raina,” he says, voice steady but surprised. “What is it? What is after you?”

I catch my breath, forcing the words out clear and strong. “I’m sorry to run in like this especially with everything going on but I just thought of it and the idea won’t to let go.”

They both sit down and Caius sighs. “What did you think about?”

“It’s a blood spell, Alpha. The rogues were made this way by a blood spell and the way the witches react to the rogues is because of something they did during the blood spell. Moira told me about a memory you pulled from one of the rogues. Vampires, witches, and an alpha gathered in some ritual place. They used three different bloods to twist normal rogues into these things. That’s why they drain magic, why nothing the witches do can reverse it. It’s because the spell was woven from three sources.”

Caius leans back on his seat and looks at Maeva, his brows furrowed. “Go on.”

I pace a small circle, hands gesturing as the excitement builds. “If three bloods created them, three bloods could destroy them but since the witches won’t do dark magic, we have to settle for breaking the link between them. We’ll need your blood as alpha, the witches can pick their most powerful, and we will use the blood. The problem is that we will need vampire blood.”

The room falls quiet as my words sink in. Caius watches me with that intense focus he gets when he’s thinking. I hope it makes sense to him. If he doesn’t approve, this whole thing won’t work. His eyes glaze over and I know he’s discussing it with Maeva. I’m nervous but I don’t leave. I no longer feel hurt or angry when I see mates be mates. It’s nobody’s fault that I lost mine.

I stop pacing when he clears his throat. “Vampires don’t come this far out to wolf territory and they’re unwilling to help. If we’re going to do this, we will need to go to them and kidnap a vampire.” He says.

The weight of the plan dawns on me. Vampires don’t leave their territory because of the treaty. If one wolf turns up with bite marks on their necks or wrist, it would mean war. Feeding on animals alone has made them weak so they don’t bother. Going to their territory would mean sacrificing yourself. They don’t come out, but they don’t let anyone who comes in leave.

“It is a wonderful plan and I’m very happy it crossed your mind.” Maeva says smiling.