Chapter 8
936 Words
Renna turned to leave—but paused when Isaldora’s voice came again, this time colder.
“Oh—and arrange more girls.”
Renna stilled.
The softness from moments ago vanished. She turned back slowly, her expression shifting.
Isaldora was watching her, brow slightly raised. The command wasn’t a request.
When Renna didn’t reply, Isaldora’s voice dropped—like ice.
“Is there something you want to say?”
Renna’s jaw tightened.
She hated that tone. Hated how easily the girl read her.
“No,” she said flatly. “I’ll arrange it.”
Isaldora gave a single nod dismissing her.
Renna left without another word.
Isaldora looked up and stared at the spot where Renna stood and heaved a sigh.
....
Kaelith sat alone, shoulders squared, a pen tapping idly between his fingers. The documents in front of him were routine—territorial updates, diplomatic letters, resource management—but his mind wasn’t in them. Not really.
There had been another attack. In fact there had been numeorus in the past year. The reports piled on his desk. He hadn't read the full briefing yet. He didn’t need to. He already knew what was written in it.
The signs were always the same. Just the methods of torture changed almost everytime. The doomwitch took her time being creative with her ways.
Coven ruins melted into the earth, vampire nests gutted and charred from the inside, packs left in shreds—quite literally. Some victims couldn’t even be identified. No trace of a struggle. No alerts. Just cold, calculated s*******r and strange symbols scrawled in what remained.
Ten packs. Four covens. Seven full nests and circles. That was the unofficial toll. But Kaelith knew the real number was higher. Another warlock circle was destroyed two days ago, rather strong one. He leaned back with a sigh.
A soft knock came. Before he could respond, the door cracked open and Xavier entered. His Beta looked wrecked—looking like he hadn’t slept in days. His jacket was mud-stained, his hair disheveled, and something grim settled in his expression as he shut the door behind him.
Kaelith watched him cross the room and drop heavily into the chair across from him without a word.
He didn’t speak just exhaled like he was trying to purge something rotten from his lungs. Xavier leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. He dragged a hand down his face and let out a slow, tired breath.
“Man… the pack ruins I patrolled today were obscene,” he muttered. “I’ve seen my share of c*****e, but this—this was something else.”
Kaelith said nothing.
“The ground wasn’t even soaked,” Xavier added after a beat, voice rough. “It was saturated. Blood in the stone. The walls were carved with—” he cut himself off, swallowing the words. “I don’t even think it was magic. It felt older. Colder.”
"It's like she appears, kills, and vanishes with the wind.” he said giving an exasperated sigh.
Kaelith exhaled slowly, the pen in his hand stilling.
“She’s escalating.”
Xavier gave a tight nod. “If she wanted fear, she has it.”
Kaelith stood and moved to the window, his arms folded behind his back. The sky was soft gold now, clouds streaking low on the horizon. Beneath, the view of Duskhowl’s training grounds stretched wide and quiet under the settling dusk. The last rays of sun filtered through the tall windows of Kaelith’s office. Too quiet. Too calm.
“The Council convened yesterday,” he said, voice steady. “They’re rattled. Every faction’s on edge—vampires, witches, shifters. And yet not a single one of the High Circles has uncovered anything useful.”
He turned slightly. “No scent or trail left behind to follow, not even a trace of power left behind. They’ve thrown seers, summoners, and blood-diviners at the problem. All came back blind.”
Xavier let out a breath through his nose. “If there was even a speckle of trail to follow…”
“There’s something we’re missing,” Kaelith said sharply, the words quiet but edged with steel. “Every attack is... clean. No lingering power. No footprints. Like she was never there.”
“She’s not attacking at random. She’s choosing. Each hit—every single one—is precise. She’s making a point.” he continued contemplating.
Xavier’s eyes narrowed as he glanced at him. “You think she is giving a message?”
“Or is settling a score that was long overdue,” Kaelith muttered.
“There’s a pattern here—we just don’t see it yet.” he said after a beat. “She isn’t attacking just anyone. There must be a reason—some connection. Something tying these victims together.”
Xavier straightened slightly, attentive. He watched his Alpha silently, the weight of Kaelith’s words sinking in.
Kaelith turned to face him. “Check the records. All of them. I want everything we have on the ones she destroyed. Anything we have on the packs, covens, and nests she’s wiped out. There has to be a thread—something that ties them together, something we may have missed.”
Xavier nodded without hesitation, already rising to his feet. “I’ll pull the records right away.”
Kaelith nodded once, but he didn’t move from the window. His gaze lingered on the sky, his expression unreadable.
Because deep down, he didn’t believe this was chaos for chaos’ sake.
No, this was something else. Much colder.
Something far more dangerous.
Something personal.
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