A Witch’s Promise

Chapter 3: It’s Happening

The Blood Howler Pack stretched for thousands of acres through sprawling forests near the Oregon boarder surrounded by a small town of mostly unassuming humans who believed the property was protected by wildlife bought by some aloof billionaire. They were wrong.

Alpha Zeke sat behind his desk staring at a torn photograph while running his fingers though his salt and pepper hair. The edges of the photograph were frayed after years of wear and tear. On it was a picture of a bright-eyed girl with twisted braids down her back, skin like warm molasses and a smile as wide as her eyes. She was gorgeous. Next to her stood a tall lean man with green eyes, olive skin, and a mass of curls. His hand was wrapped tightly around the woman’s waist as they stared at the camera.

A knock sounded at the office door.

“Come in.”

“Alpha.”

“Yes, Marcus.” Zeke waited for his Beta to speak while looking at the photo. “What can I do for you?”

“She looks so much like her you know.” Marcus commented while pointing at the woman in the photograph. “Ophelia, I mean. She looks so much like Naomi. Almost like looking back in time.”

Zeke Grunts. “I know. I see her every time I look in her eyes. Nearly 20 years have passed and you would think some of that pain would go away. But, it’s just as fresh as the day that witch Angela broke through our forcefield. The pain of knowing that I could have done something, could have claimed her and maybe she wouldn’t have left. Maybe Ophelia would have stayed here and had my pups instead. Don’t mistake me. I love Sarai. She is my chosen mate. Even though we started rocky, she has been good to the pack and we have been able to build a life together. But we have no heir. I know Chris will one day be an excellent Alpha and I am grateful to you for sharing your son with me. But still, I wonder what could have been if I had followed my Goddess given destiny.

Marcus looked at the alpha and breathed a heavy sigh. “Zeke, it’s happening. With Naomi. It’s happening. Her powers are beginning to surface.”

In 18 years, they never spoke of it. The men pretended like the obvious elephant wasn’t in the room. Now, they may be faced to deal with much more than either of them had bargained for.

Every muscle in Zeke’s body tensed. “Why?”

“The energy around her is destabilizing. You can almost smell the magic pouring off of her. Either she is extremely powerful or something is happening to that witch.”

“The pack doesn’t know,” the Alpha interrupted, voice low and controlled.

“They can’t know,” the Beta corrected.

“Do you know where Angela is? Naomi’s binding is supposed to be tied to her life. Witches’ lives are for hundreds of years. Some even thousands.”

“I’m not sure. The only thing I know for sure is the bindings will not last. I estimate two weeks. Maybe less.”

Zeke began pacing around the large office; stopping just in front of a large calendar splayed around the oak meeting table in the corner of the room and bent down.

“Just in time for her birthday.”

A sharp knock cut through the sentence. Both men went still. Another knock. Not polite. Not requesting permission. The door didn’t wait for it. It slammed open. Chris stepped inside looking wild and flustered. His hair was damp as if he’d run straight through the forest without stopping. The Alpha’s eyes widened instantly. Chris, what happened?

“Beta,” the Alpha said without looking away from Chris, “close the door.” It shut with a heavy click. The Silence thickened. Chris’ gaze flicked briefly to the photo on the table, just long enough to register the woman’s similarities to Naomi, then back to the Alpha.

There’s been a rogue attack,” he said.

The Beta’s posture shifted immediately. “Details.”

“East boundary,” Chris replied. “Two sentries down. One dead. One barely holding on.”

The Alpha’s expression didn’t change, but something behind his eyes sharpened.

“And?” the Alpha asked.

Chris stepped further in, boots echoing against stone.

“It wasn’t random,” he said.

The Beta frowned. “Rogues rarely are.”

“No,” Chris agreed. “But this wasn’t even a raid pattern. It was targeted movement. Controlled spacing. They moved like they were avoiding blind spots—like they already knew our patrol rotations.”

A brief silence followed. Then Chris added, voice lower now.

“And they were moving like they were looking for something specific.”

The Alpha’s gaze flicked back to the photograph for a fraction of a second. It was barely noticeable, but it happened. Chris noticed. That was the problem.

“They didn’t hit supply routes,” Chris continued. “They didn’t go after livestock or border caches. They cut through the eastern line and circled back twice before retreating.”

Marcus’ voice hardened. “That sounds like reconnaissance.”

Chris shook his head once. “It was more than that.”

Finally, Zeke spoke. “Explain.”

“They’re tracking Naomi.”

The room changed instantly.

Marcus went still. “That’s not possible.

“I know what I saw,” Chris cut in sharply, then reined it back just as quickly. “And I know what I didn’t see. If this was a standard rogue incursion, they would’ve hit weak infrastructure. Instead, they mapped movement corridors. They knew exactly where she would be and when. The real question is why? Why would rogues care about a human girl with no standing in this world?”

Zeke interrupted. “Thank you, Chris. We will take it from here.”

The moment the door closed Marcus stated matter of fact, “We’ve been compromised. “If I’m right… they’re not just watching her. Whoever sent these rogues are coming for what she’s becoming. They may even be the reason Ophelia’s coven was decimated.”