Chapter102
Lydia would walk any dark path for Vanessa, no matter how twisted.
Even Mistress Zephira wasn’t off–limits… downright unhinged.
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Cassie had sniffed out Lydia’s obsession with the occult, following that trail to dig up dirt on her.
It all added up now.
To keep things smooth, the four gathered around the table.
I scribbled on the notepad, my pen moving fast to get the thought down: From what that she–wolf said, Cassie’s probably safe for now, but her reaction was weird.
I can’t read it. I slid it over to Gideon, my brows furrowed–something about the she–wolf’s unease still nagged
at me.
Gideon picked up the pen, his handwriting neat and sharp: Find her first. Make sure she’s safe
I jotted back a quick “Good!” and nodded.
With what we knew now, waiting for Lydia to show up before acting wasn’t a bad call–we could catch he guard, maybe get answers about Vanessa and the Quinn pack. But…
I couldn’t shake the worry gnawing at my chest. I wasn’t about to bet on luck, not with Cassie’s safety or line. I needed to know she was okay–nothing less would let me breathe easy.
Sabrina sat quiet beside me, picking at the edge of her sleeve, offering no input. She seemed as on edge as I felt, but she kept it to herself.
Gideon scribbled another note, this time sliding it to Caleb: Go find her.
Caleb grabbed the pen, his messy handwriting scrawled across the page: On it, Gideon. I’ll bring her back in one piece! He flashed Gideon a cocky grin, like this was just another easy job.
I was speechless.
Gideon was too–his jaw tight, like he didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh.
Sabrina, though?
She narrowed her eyes, suspicion darkening her expression. In one piece? Her gaze flicked between Caleb and Gideon, like she was piecing together a terrible puzzle. What was this pup hinting at?
Then her eyes shot to Gideon, horror dawning.
Was he… was he not only charming me but sniffing around Cassie too?
I saw the anger flash in her eyes–Sabrina was livid.
After all the heartbreak I’d endured, was I about to get betrayed by both a new wolf and my best friend? Before I could say a word, she snatched the pen from Caleb’s hand and wrote furiously, the ink pressing hard
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into the paper: What’s the deal with Cassie and Gideon? Spill it! CLEARLY!
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Caleb blinked, totally confused. His brows shot up, like he couldn’t believe she was saying this. Why was Sabrina losing it over nonsense? He shrugged, his face a picture of cluelessness–he had no idea where her accusations were coming from.
Gideon rubbed his forehead, looking like he was already tired of this chaos. I just sat there, mouth dry, not sure how to fix the mess Sabrina had just made.
He tore off the page, wrote a new note, and tossed it to Caleb: Go. Now.
Caleb got up.
After he left, the room’s vibe turned weird.
A minute of awkward silence passed.
I spoke up quickly, my voice quiet but firm to cut through the tension. “It’s just a misunderstanding.”
Sabrina shot me a look that said Don’t be naive. “Wolves always want what’s on their plate and what’s cooking elsewhere.”
I sighed, slumping back in my chair. There was no reasoning with her when she got like this suspicion had already taken root, and anything I said would sound like I was making excuses. I let it drop, turning my c to the door, waiting for Caleb to come back.
Thankfully, it wasn’t long before he reappeared, slipping into the room quietly. He didn’t say a word–just sa down, grabbed the notepad, and scribbled a line in his messy scrawl.
Gideon glanced at it, his eyes scanning the page quickly, and nodded like he got the gist instantly.
Sabrina and I leaned in, our faces–hers sharp and pretty, mine probably still tight with worry–twisting in confusion. What was this gibberish? Caleb’s handwriting was totally illegible, like he’d scribbled with his eyes
closed.
Gideon took the pen, sighing softly as he wrote a translation right below Caleb’s line: Cassie’s with Mistress Zephira, probably dressed up like her.
Caleb nodded eagerly, tapping the page like he was saying That’s exactly what I meant.
I was speechless.
Dressed up like Mistress Zephira? Why? Sabrina looked just as stunned, her mouth hanging open a little.
Before we could process it, Caleb grabbed the pen again and scribbled another line. Sabrina and I leaned in once more–only to stare blankly. Still illegible.
Gideon let out a deeper sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was bracing himself for more work.
He added more, translating: No cameras here. We can check next door–probably where Mistress Zephira does her thing.
Caleb nodded again, hard.
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Then he sketched a map on the paper.
Gotta hand it to him–his drawing was way clearer than his writing. Crystal clear.
Gideon told Caleb and Sabrina to stay put. He and Vivian would go.
Sabrina was fine either way.
Caleb figured it seemed safe enough and agreed.
Gideon and Vivian slipped out quietly.
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The place used to be office rentals, sprawling and maze–like, made worse by the mystic’s smoky haze. Without a map, you’d get lost fast.
They found the spot Caleb mentioned.
The door pushed open with a light nudge–no lock.
I was just about to say this was too easy–like we’d slipped through a crack without anyone noticing–when my eye caught a lock on the floor. Caleb’s handiwork? How’d he pull that off so quietly, without anyone
hearing?
Didn’t matter
His handwriting was a mess, but he had other skills. No way he’d be Gideon’s right–hand wolf otherwise.
Inside was a bedroom with a massive bed.
My inner monologue kicked in:
Does Mistress Zephira crash here for a nap like Gideon’s crew does after a long day?
I glanced at Gideon, and before I could look away, he leaned in–close enough that his warm breath brushed my cheek, his voice low and teasing.
“Staring at the bed, then at me. What’s on your mind?”
I nearly choked on my own breath, heat flooding my cheeks.
“I think… Mistress Zephira’s like you. Loves a good afternoon snooze.”
Speechless. Speechless.
Oh, moon above, this conversation is painful!
So awkward. So niche.
Even a spirit couldn’t save it.
I cringed at myself, hurrying a few steps ahead to escape the silence, my shoes scuffing the edge of the carpet.
On the left wall, three coin–sized holes glinted–light spilling through from the other side. A scroll painting lay crumpled on the floor, probably used to cover them before someone moved it. We crowded close, each
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pressing an eye to a hole, peering through.
Next door was a ritual altar.
From our vantage point, we could see the whole room–spacious.
At the front, statues stood tall, their faces calm and carved from wood.
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Below them, an elderly she–wolf sat cross–legged, her eyes closed–maybe blind, her face lined with age. That had to be Mistress Zephira.
To her left, in a white robe with a veil covering her face, sat a figure I’d recognize anywhere. Cassie.
No doubt about it.
She’d really gone and joined this mystic’s crew…
Caleb’s sharp eyes had spotted her even in that getup, back when we were squinting at grainy security
footage.
Then the door to the altar room opened.
The robed she–wolf from earlier stepped in, leading a well–dressed middle–aged she–wolf–hair pulled back in a neat bun, a tailored coat over her dress.
Lydia. It was her, no question.
Lydia knelt gingerly on a velvet cushion, her posture straight but her face soft, devout and humble “Mistress Zephira, I’ve done everything you said. My pup’s situation… can it be fixed?”
Her voice was quiet, almost desperate–nothing like the confident, sharp wolf we’d heard stories about. Mistress Zephira let out a heavy hum. “I’ll ask again for you.”
She started chanting low, twitching and trembling… Did Vanessa get her fake seizure act from this?
Cassie, playing the part, scribbled on paper, though who knew what.
Finally, Mistress Zephira stopped shaking.
She erupted in fury, knocking over the incense burner. “I told you, no secrets! There’s something big about your pup you didn’t tell me! You dare hide it? You’ll ruin me!”
She spat a mouthful of blood.
Wooden plaques on the wall clattered to the floor.
Nessa, Mistress Zephira’s assistant, flung sheets of paper at Lydia’s face, each scrawled with the red word DEATH, fluttering into her view.
“Aaah!”
Lydia screamed, clutching her head. “You’re already dead! Don’t come for me! Don’t come for my pup! Leave her alone!”
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The louder she screamed, the faster Nessa wrote DEATH, tossing ash onto Lydia’s head and face.
My blood raced with excitement–this was it, the moment we’d been waiting for. But then a frown pulled at my brows, confusion cutting through the thrill. “You’re already dead“? Lydia was right there, breathing, kneeling, talking–very much alive… How did that line fit?
I glanced at Gideon, and he must’ve seen the confusion on my face. His lips curled into a smile- half–mocking, half–cold, like he was amused by the twisted irony of it all. “Guess it takes a ghost to grind down a villain.”
His words clicked, slow and sharp. Even if Lydia was physically alive, whatever Mistress Zephira was doing- whatever Lydia thought she needed fixed–had already hollowed her out. A villain brought to their knees by something invisible, something even they couldn’t fight. I stared through the hole again, at Lydia’s bowed head, and suddenly, she didn’t look like a threat anymore. She looked small. Desperate. Like a ghost of the wolf she used to be.
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