Aderonke stepped gracefully onto the balcony, her silk robe brushing against the stone floor. Her smile was sharp, her voice dripping with satisfaction.
"I told you, killing him would be easy. Did you enjoy my surprise?"
Below, the wolves clawed helplessly at the invisible barrier, their snarls muffled by the enchantment.
Ajamu glanced at her, pride and unease flickering in his eyes. "Ronke, your magic is truly remarkable. We've rounded them up—now let's—"
But she cut him off with a shake of her head, her long braids swaying.
"No, Ajamu. There's no need to slaughter them all. As they say, to kill a snake, you sever its head." She paused, her gaze fixed on the figure bound in arrows. Jide's massive wolf body sagged lifelessly, his glowing red eyes dimming. "And the head of this snake…" she smiled, "…is already gone."
Ajamu clenched his jaw. He wanted more blood, to end the bloodline entirely. But Aderonke's confidence was intoxicating, and he yielded, signaling his warriors to stand down.
She snapped her fingers, the barrier dissolving like mist. Freed, Jide's pack surged forward, only to halt in shock when they saw their alpha motionless, pierced and broken. A wave of dread rippled through them. Their leader was gone, and with him, their unity.
But not all eyes were on the fallen alpha.
From the shadows of the gathered wolves, Tolu stood rigid, his chest heaving. Unlike the rest, he wasn't staring at Jide's body—he was glaring upward, directly at Aderonke. His indigo-turned-blue eyes burned with an unnatural light. She felt it immediately, that piercing gaze cutting through distance and magic alike.
Intrigued, Aderonke tilted her head, the corner of her lips curving. This one… he's different.
Far beyond the battlefield, on a lonely hill beneath the moonlight, two figures stood as silent witnesses—Ore and her father, Bode.
Bode's usually calm face carried a rare shadow of grief. He exhaled slowly, eyes fixed on Jide's body. "He was always reckless… but he didn't deserve this."
Ore, however, wasn't looking at the corpse. Her sharp eyes were locked on the lone wolf standing apart, the one glaring with fury at Ajamu's mansion. She swallowed hard, her voice low but urgent.
"Dad… I have a bad feeling. That wolf… he's not acting like himself. I think he's going to cause trouble. You have to stop him."
Bode narrowed his eyes, focusing, and then his expression changed.
"That's not him," he said gravely. "It's not Tolu you're seeing—it's the other side. The ancient blood is stirring." His gaze shifted toward Ajamu's balcony, his tone heavy. "Something in that house is calling him."
---
Thunder ripped across the night sky, and a violent bolt struck the earth between Ajamu's mansion and the restless wolves clawing to reach their fallen alpha.
From the blinding light, a figure emerged.
An elderly woman, aged but commanding, stepped forward with unshaken grace. Her robe was unlike anything modern eyes had seen — woven with cowries, bones, horns, and charms that clattered softly with each movement, like the whispers of forgotten ancestors. Her staff, crowned with bells, jingled ominously as it struck the earth in rhythm with her steps.
Every gaze, wolf and human alike, turned toward her. Even Ajamu's confident smirk faltered.
The Yeye Agba — the elder no one dared to provoke.
She looked first at Ajamu's mansion, shaking her head in disappointment, then her eyes drifted to Jide's lifeless body sprawled upon the ground. A deep sigh left her lips. She could have saved him. But the old treaty bound her hands — leaders of factions could not intervene in each other's wars, and her disciples were too inexperienced to wield teleportation with such precision. She had arrived too late.
Her voice carried like thunder though she spoke calmly:
"Ajamu… in honor of the old treaty, I cannot interfere. But at the very least—let them go."
Aderonke's lips curled into a mocking smile.
"Oh, we never meant to hurt them. They're free to leave—if they so choose."
The Yeye Agba's eyes glimmered with disappointment as she turned to the wolves. Their despair was heavy in the air, heavier than the storm still rumbling above. Then, almost instinctively, her golden eyes flickered for a single heartbeat—resting on Tolu.
She peered deeper. Something hidden. Something sealed.
And she smiled.
Turning slightly, she caught Ige Ogundipe's gaze. The eldest elder understood without words. He raised his head to the dark sky and let out a mournful, commanding howl. Slowly, the pack began retreating, step by step, dragging their grief with them.
Tolu lingered, his eyes locked with Aderonke's. His body trembled with the urge to strike, to tear through her smugness. But Ige's howl carried authority he could not resist. With a final reluctant glance, he turned away and followed the pack.
From the balcony, Aderonke watched him go, her smile unfading. She whispered under her breath, her voice low and playful,
"We'll meet again."
---
Bode placed a steady hand on Ore's shoulder, his gaze lingering a moment longer on the battlefield before turning away.
"Let's go," he said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of both loss and calculation. "This is… one of the best outcomes we could have hoped for."
Ore nodded silently, though her eyes betrayed the heaviness in her chest. They began walking, their steps crunching against the forest path as the echoes of distant howls faded.
As they left the chaos behind, Bode spoke again, his tone low and deliberate.
"I know grief weighs on us now… but we must start preparing. With the Alpha gone, the pack will be leaderless. Before a new Alpha is chosen, bring him to me."
Ore turned her head slightly. She knew who her father meant without him saying his name.
Bode's eyes glowed faintly red in the dimness.
"I'll make him my Beta. To the pack, all the newborns are dead—let's keep it that way. That secret buys us time. And with time, we can strengthen. We're next on Ajamu's list, Ore. If we are not ready, we'll share the same fate as Jide."
Ore bit her lip, torn between fear and duty, then nodded again. She understood the stakes.
---