HER REDEMPTION

Chapter 4

MISSING PIECES

Rouge Pack One

"Cain is currently on Blood’s pack lands, and I suspect it’s not on vacation terms."

Raid led Night toward his personal table, where a weathered map lay stretched out, its inked roads and markings illuminated by the radiations from the white light. The scent of parchment and aged wood filled the space.

"There have been sightings of him with a certain witch—Selena. Always beyond his pack’s borders. And if I had to guess, he doesn’t want anyone knowing about it." Raid’s voice was steady, but there was an underlying edge to it. He tapped a spot on the map, his finger coming to rest on a location to the north.

"Yesterday, just past noon, she was seen heading north of the No-Man Lands."

Night remained silent, his expression unreadable as he studied the map.

Raid exhaled sharply, gaze lifting to meet the man who had been more than just a leader to him—a father, a mentor, a guide.

"The mountains, to be precise."

Night’s dark eyes flickered, but he said nothing.

Raid continued, his tone dipping lower, as if speaking the words aloud gave them power. "And you’ve heard the tales."

A stillness settled over the room. The air grew heavier.

"The mountains. The cave of the undead. A place where dark magic festers, where lost souls are swallowed by the abyss." His tone darkened. "And the whispers say only one being has the power to survive in such a place..."

"Demetria." Night spoke, his voice was flat, almost monotonous, yet it carried weight, as if the very name itself was a curse.

The air seemed colder now.

Maybe it was the stories—the old ones, whispered to pups at night to keep them from straying too far from home. The ones about the creatures that slithered out of the mountains the moment the first star blinked into existence. Beasts with eyes blacker than the abyss, their forms ever-shifting, impossible to pin down. Legends claimed they moved like liquid shadows, melting into the darkness, emerging only when it was time to strike. They had one purpose: to steal away young pups from their beds and rip the beating hearts from their chests, an offering to their mistress of darkness.

Or perhaps it was the other legend. The one about the old, twisted witch who had made the mountains her throne, her presence a blight upon the land.

Either way, the name Demetria sent an involuntary shudder through anyone who had ever heard the tales.

But not Night.

Raid knew better, though. Night wasn’t a man who showed fear, but that didn’t mean he was immune to it.

Raid clenched his jaw. "For the sake of whatever good is left in this world, I hope for once, we’re wrong. It’s bad enough that a witch has gone into those mountains, but it’s worse when she’s tied to Cain."

A voice, smooth yet sharp, sliced through the heavy air.

"The mountains? Are you seeking the stomping ground of that skanky old hag who feasts on the hearts of pups?"

Both men turned toward the doorway.

Blaze leaned casually against the frame, arms crossed, a smirk playing at her lips, her eyes gleaming with something dangerously close to amusement.

Raid sighed. "Good to know someone else knows the stories."

"And no," he continued, "not me. A witch who is somehow connected to Cain."

Night still hadn’t spoken.

"s**t. That’s on a whole new level of bad. What’s he after this time?"

Blaze pushed off the doorframe, stepping inside with the effortless grace of a predator. She shut the door behind her with a soft click.

Raid shrugged. "Probably planning to take over the world."

Blaze scoffed. "Typical."

"Well, I hope you don’t mind me joining the party."

The teasing edge in her voice faded, replaced by something colder, sharper. She walked to the table, her gloved fingers trailing along its edge before she finally spoke.

"The captives didn’t know much. I’ll give the man credit, he sure does know how to keep a damn secret. What they did know was equivalent to nothing."

A pause.

Then a smirk. "But, I’m called Blaze for a reason, am I not? A little spark sends answers flying, and I know how to burn."

"So," Night finally spoke, "do you or do you not have news for me?"

Raid chuckled under his breath. "Proud."

Blaze ignored him. "I see now why patience is such a rare virtue in this world," she teased, shifting her attention back to Night.

His tone turned flat. "Blaze."

She held up her hands in surrender. "Alright."

She exhaled, her playful demeanor darkening. "Theodore’s ‘pride’ isn’t a thing—it’s a person. A woman, according to their suspicions. But no one knows who. She’s locked away in his most private dungeon. Only he and Cyrus know her true identity."

A heavy silence followed.

Blaze let the weight of her words settle before continuing.

"I’m thinking—whoever she is—she isn’t just important to Theo. She matters to someone else. And considering how much effort he’s putting into keeping her hidden, I’d bet on someone powerful." She leaned in slightly. "Something doesn’t add up. This puzzle has too many missing pieces. Either she belongs to someone powerful, is powerful herself, or she possesses something powerful."

She glanced between them, her eyes glinting with realization.

"She’s the final card Theo plans to play."

Raid sighed. "If she’s being held captive, that means she hasn’t agreed to whatever plan he has for her."

"Or maybe it isn’t time yet," Raid added.

Blaze nodded. "Which means we have a small window."

Raid ran a hand through his hair. "So, on one side, we have Cain and his witch. On the other, Theodore and his pride. Remind me again—why the hell do we know these people?"

Blaze shot him a warning look. He shut up instantly.

Night exhaled. "Raid. Get me a list of all missing females from—"

"Ten to twelve years ago," Blaze cut in.

Raid’s brows lifted. "Ten years?"

Blaze nodded. "Yeah. He said she’s been there that long. And for her sake, I hope she’s had a lot of prayers."

Night raised a brow. "Which one?"

Blaze smirked. "The last one."

Raid narrowed his eyes. "And we trust his word because…?"

Blaze’s smirk didn’t falter. "Because he wouldn’t dare lie to me. Not if he wants to ensure his family’s safety."

Night’s interest sharpened. "Family?"

"Yeah. He had a ring mark on his finger."

Raid leaned back, arms crossed. "Let me get this straight—what happened to the others?"

Blaze shrugged. "You know. The usual." A pause. Then, softer, "But I prayed they find peace with their maker."

Raid let out a slow breath. Then, without warning, he flicked a dagger at her shoulder.

Blaze dodged effortlessly.

A smirk. "Still got my reflexes."

"Now go, Raid. I’m hitting the streets for news."

"Bye, Dad."

Both turned and walked out.

Night didn’t respond—only nodded once, already lost in thought, the map before him now a battlefield waiting to unfold.