Chapter 13

{Casper’s Pov}

‘I need to get some air.’  I thought to myself. There was no point doubting Jade now.

Plus, I had other things to worry about. The fact mom was kidnapped still haunted me dearly. Am I sure she survived? It’s not like Osiris knows she has a son… Me.

There was no reason to think he kept her alive. Especially if Alpha Aurelius had sent the order. Maybe he did when she was taken but after this much time? No…. I can’t be so pessimistic.

“Mom… If you’re alive, if you’re out there. Give me a sign… Please, I need you to be alright." I said as I listened to the wind howl, cold and disinterested. Hoping, and praying I would get something. Anything… And somewhere, in my darkest place, I thought to myself, maybe that was the sign.

I don’t give up on her though, I simply can’t until I see her again, even if all I come across is a corpse. I need to be sure.

I turned and headed back to the others. Just then, my wolf stirred. I heard a howl resonate through me. 

It was her… She’s safe... An almost palpable sigh of relief escaped me, and suddenly I was revitalized. “Thanks, Mom,” I said as a tear fell from my eyes.

“I’m coming to save you.”’

×××

"We draw them out."

That was the first thing I said after hours of silence around the new “war” table — a plank of oak balanced on bricks. The room, if it could be called one, stank of ash and damp hide. It wasn’t much, but it held the survivors and their stubborn hearts.

"Draw who out?" Adolph asked, folding his arms. His eyes were still red from smoke and grief.

"Osiris' brutes. The ones closest to their forces, that way, they can’t regroup on time." I pointed at Tyrion’s map. "They're guarding the front and flanks with heavier numbers. But they’re arrogant. Reckless. They want to make noise and feel strong. We use that."

“And how are you so sure?” Basten asked, obviously a jab at Jade. I didn't give a reply, better to ignore than engage. 

Basten leaned closer, defeated. "Decoy scouts?"

I nodded. "A small unit. Fast wolves would be best. They stir up trouble in the front — fake sabotage, light a few fires. Then fall back. When Osiris' men come barreling out to chase them, our main force slips in from the rear." I traced the ridgeline Tyrion marked, a quiet way in.

Ophelia frowned. "They’ll smell us…"

"Not if we mask our scent. Let them sense the decoy team. While the main team will be doused in mud. It’ll cover the trail, confuse them with that earthy scent."

Basten scratched his jaw. "Damn disgusting."

"But it’ll work," I said. "And we don’t have to win tonight. Just get in. Find Mom. Find Osiris’s weak spot… And make sure he pays dearly for everything we’ve lost."

Adolph exchanged a glance with Ophelia. She gave him a slight nod.

"Fine," he grunted. "But you’re leading the infiltration." "Wouldn’t have it any other way."

Someone cleared their throat at the tent flap. A group of older wolves entered, faces drawn, pelts matted with dried earth. They wore leather wraps and the red insignia that Tyrion once designed.

The eldest among them stepped forward. She had silver hair braided with feathers, her voice rough as cracked stone. "We heard what happened to Tyrion."

"He was family," another said. "Even before the rogues. Even before Ryanna. He taught us how to fight when others called us useless. When our motherland discarded us."

"We were his," the elder said. "And now we are yours."

They kept their seething rage in check. But I could feel it, his death has angered them dearly. They will do whatever it takes to help stop Osiris.

I looked at them, and for a moment, the grief I’d kept clamped down broke loose. Tyrion hadn’t just trained me or mentored Mom. He built bridges where others built walls. His death meant more than even I realized. I’m not the only one grieving his death.

"Then fight with us," I said. "Help me take down the bastard that took him from us."

“They nodded as one”.

We’re done with preparations and by now night has covered, cloaking everything in silence. No moon tonight. Just stars, blinking weakly as always.

Our infiltration unit gathered in the western woods, just shy of the ridge. I crouched behind a dead log with Ophelia, Magnus, two of Tyrion’s loyalists, and a scout whose name I can’t remember.

“I could feel my heart drum inside my chest like war drums. Not fear, not exactly just pressure. The kind that sits on your shoulders and dares you to breathe”.

Magnus broke the silence. "What if Osiris isn't there? What if this is another decoy? Your mom, will she be there? They could have transported her by now."

"I guess we’ll find out soon. But for mom, I know she’s there," I said, tightening my boots. "Osiris won’t escape us, we’ll hunt him until there's no more earth left to turn."

Ophelia gave me a look. "Are you sure you want to do this? You're still a kid."

"So was I when this started." I give a clipped reply. Her concern isn’t baseless, but it’s misguided. She didn’t argue.

I reached into my satchel, pulled and passed out masks for everyone — black, tight-woven cloth. Mine had belonged to Tyrion once, one of his friends gave this to me, back when he did solo night runs to gather intel. He always said, "Visibility is weakness."

I wrapped it around the lower half of my face, pulling it tight over my nose. My breath echoed softly inside the fabric. The others fell silent.

I steady myself, grounding the fact of what was about to happen. And then I loaded the flare. Just one shot. The signal.

This wasn’t just the beginning of a mission. It was a promise.

I raised it skyward and fired. It ignited with a hiss, burning like a miniature sun across the black sky.

Burning… Just like everything he took from us.

And this time, we would burn him back.