The field behind Saint Andrew Heights was alive with shouts and laughter, the kind that came before practice officially began. A few guys passed balls around lazily, while others stretched halfheartedly on the grass.
Tolu spotted Leke near the bleachers, balancing a football on his thigh with bored precision. When Tolu approached, Leke gave a crooked grin.
"Tch. Look who finally crawled out of the forest," Leke teased, flicking the ball into his hands. "Two whole weeks, and now you remember you're a footballer again?"
Tolu dropped his bag and sat on the bench. "Had to handle some things, bro."
"'Handle some things,'" Leke repeated with mock seriousness. "Translation: you nearly died again?"
Tolu smirked faintly. "Something like that."
Leke's grin softened. "So… how bad was it?"
Tolu stared across the pitch. The late morning sun was warm, but he felt a chill anyway. "Jide's dead. You already know that much."
"Yeah," Leke said quietly.
"Business as usual," Tolu muttered. "That's what Ajamu wants. But the whole balance shifted the moment Jide fell. The wolves in Ogbomosho aren't the same anymore."
Leke nodded, expression grim. "Streets are quieter. Too quiet. I realized all of this when you explained how things are to me .
"Exactly," Tolu said. " lots of wolves have switched sides. Once there's no alpha, loyalties scatter."
Leke kicked at the grass, lowering his voice. "So where does that leave you?"
Tolu exhaled slowly. "Bode's keeping me under his roof for now. He says it's safer that way."
Leke raised a brow. "You trust him?"
Tolu nodded. "Yeah. He saved me. More than once."
Silence lingered for a moment before Leke asked, "What about that pain you mentioned?"
Tolu rubbed the left side of his chest. "It's still there, faint now. But when they did the alpha ritual—when Jide's power passed to his son—I felt it like a chain trying to drag me back. Like something wanted to link me to him."
"His son, huh?" Leke muttered. "Then he's the new alpha."
"Yeah. Tade. I don't think he even understands what kind of power he's carrying yet. But that link…" Tolu's voice trailed off. "It meant I'm still tied to the pack."
"Bode helped suppress it?"
" Not suppress— eliminate." Tolu said. "He used blood.I'm now under him. Ok the bright side, I'm in the same pack as ore."
Leke leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "You sure he isn't using you for a purpose you don't know about ?"
Tolu looked at him, thoughtful. "Maybe he is. But I think I'd be dead without it. Also, he doesn't seem like he has an alterior motive. He's cool about me and or so I couldn't care less."
"Fair point," Leke said with a half-shrug. "Better alive and bound than free and buried."
Tolu chuckled. "You always make things sound simple."
"Someone has to. You're starting to brood like an elder."
Tolu rolled his eyes but smiled faintly. "Speaking of elders, Ore told me something else. About witches."
"Ah," Leke said, sitting back with mild curiosity. "The other side of the coin."
"Yeah. She said witches have existed as long as wolves—same kind of ancient power, just… different source. Their power isn't wild like ours. It's structured, built around covens and bloodlines."
"I've heard stories," Leke said. "But most of them sound exaggerated. You actually saw one?"
Tolu nodded slowly. "The Yeye Agba. She appeared that night, when Jide died. She stopped Ajamu from finishing the pack off."
Leke let out a low whistle. "That's the coven leader, right?"
"Yeah. Ore said she's not just one person—she carries the knowledge and strength of every Yeye before her. Every witch who ever held that title. That's why Ajamu let us be, don't mess with her."
Leke frowned. "So they're that strong?"
"Stronger," Tolu said quietly. "Ore said even wolves can't touch the powerful ones. Their kind live by rules just like we do, but once they cross into ancient status…" He shook his head. "They're untouchable. Some can kill with just a word."
"Lovely," Leke muttered. "So now we've got two kinds of nightmares roaming Ogbomosho—wolves and witches."
Tolu gave a tired laugh. "Pretty much. But thankfully they can't use their powers for evil without getting punishment. Ore said some covens stay hidden, keeping the balance. They don't pick sides unless the world itself tips too far."
"Balance," Leke echoed. "Sounds like something out of a prophecy."
"Maybe it is," Tolu said, standing up and stretching. "All I know is, whatever's coming… both sides are watching."
Leke got up too, tossing the ball from hand to hand. "Then we better make sure we're not the ones caught in the middle."
Tolu smirked. "Too late for that."
The whistle blew for practice, sharp and distant. They started walking toward the team huddle.
Neither spoke again, but both knew the peace around Saint Andrew Heights was temporary—like the quiet before another storm.
---
In a secluded corner of the forest, where even the wolves dared not wander, an ancient manor sat atop a moss-covered hillside. The moonlight caught its tall windows, glinting off dust and ivy, revealing a structure that seemed both alive and forgotten. The air shimmered faintly with enchantment — the kind that bent the wind and made intruders lose their way.
Inside, polished table carved from a single trunk of iroko wood. Around it sat nine figures, each cloaked in deep shades of indigo and black. At the head of the table sat a woman draped in silken robes of crimson and gold — her silver braids glowing faintly like threads of moonlight. The Yeye Agba.
Her eyes, old as centuries, swept slowly across the others as one of the cloaked figures began to speak.
"As we suspected," the man said, his voice steady but cautious, "Ajamu is after what lies within the ancestral tombs… or should I say — Ronke is after it."
A ripple of quiet disapproval passed around the table. Another witch, younger and sharp-eyed, leaned forward.
"She knows she's wasting her time," the woman said with a small, dismissive wave. "Even if she tore the earth apart, she'd never find it."
The Yeye Agba smiled faintly — not in amusement, but in understanding. Her tone was calm, yet carried a weight that silenced the others.
"You all know her nature," she said. "Her power is tremendous, but her hunger even greater. She is a black hole — never filled, never satisfied. Let her chase ghosts. I prefer she believes she's close to truth while she dances in circles."
A few quiet chuckles answered her words, though they faded quickly as the Yeye's gaze hardened again.
She straightened slightly, her presence filling the chamber. "Now, to more pressing matters," she said. "We have one with the Ajewale bloodline amongst us."
A murmur spread across the table — whispers and gasps — until one woman at the far end spoke, her tone both reverent and fearful.
"So… he's an Ancient?"