Alpha Kael's dangerous Obsession

Chapter 30: Questions Without Answers

Alpha Kael's dangerous Obsession

Chapter 30: Questions Without Answers

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Chapter 30: Chapter 30: Questions Without Answers

Chapter 30 :Questions Without Answers

The raven arrived a little after midnight.

Seraphina heard the soft tap against the window before she noticed the bird itself.

She had been sitting behind her desk for nearly an hour, surrounded by open ledgers and sealed letters she had barely bothered reading. Her attention had drifted again and again to the same restless thought that had been circling her mind all evening.

The tapping came again, slightly louder this time.

Seraphina lifted her gaze and slowly rose from her chair.

The raven sat on the narrow stone edge of the window, its dark feathers blending almost perfectly with the night outside. When she approached, it tilted its head slightly, its sharp eyes catching the faint glow of the candlelight behind her.

Seraphina opened the window and extended her arm.

The bird hopped onto her wrist without hesitation.

For a brief moment nothing happened.

Then the connection opened.

The raven’s memories rushed into her mind, flooding her senses so suddenly it felt as if she had stepped directly into the past.

The underground training hall appeared first.

Through the raven’s vision she saw rough stone walls lined with uneven torches, their flames flickering against damp stone. Even from the bird’s perspective the air seemed cold.

At the center of the chamber stood the Luna.

Seraphina studied her carefully.

The girl looked small, clearly untrained, and unmistakably wolfless.

Even the raven seemed to sense that something about the sight was wrong. A wolfless Luna standing in the center of a pack training hall made no sense.

Across from her stood Mira.

Seraphina recognized the woman immediately. Kael had hired her personally—a fighter known for turning even the weakest wolves into soldiers capable of surviving battle.

But why would Kael bring someone like her to train a wolfless girl?

The answer did not come immediately.

Instead the training began.

Mira moved first.

The strike was fast and without warning. The Luna barely reacted before the blow sent her stumbling backward. She hit the stone floor hard enough that the sound echoed through the chamber.

For a moment she remained there, breathing heavily.

Then she forced herself back onto her feet.

Mira attacked again.

This time the Luna tried to block the strike. The attempt failed, and she fell once more, the impact against the stone floor sharper than before.

The pattern repeated itself.

Strike.

Fall.

Stand again.

Seraphina watched closely through the raven’s eyes as the girl continued rising after every blow. There was nothing graceful about the way she fought. No training guided her movements, no instinct sharpened her reactions. What kept her standing was something far simpler and far more stubborn.

She simply refused to stay down.

Then the knife appeared.

Mira drew it without hesitation. The blade flashed briefly in the torchlight before she stepped forward again.

The Luna froze for the briefest second.

The blade cut across her forearm.

Blood surfaced instantly, dark and steady as it ran down her skin.

It was a deep wound—clean, deliberate.

Mira lowered the knife and watched her.

"Need help?" she asked casually.

The Luna shook her head.

Seraphina narrowed her eyes as the girl tore a piece of cloth and wrapped it around her arm. The fabric darkened quickly as the blood soaked through it.

Mira said something else, though the raven had not been close enough to hear the words clearly.

The training resumed almost immediately.

Despite the wound and the blood running down her arm, the Luna continued fighting.

The memory shifted.

Now it was evening.

Seraphina instantly recognized the chamber the raven now watched from. Those rooms had been assigned to the Luna shortly after the bond ceremony.

The door opened.

Kael stepped inside.

His attention moved immediately to the bandaged arm.

Seraphina watched carefully as he crossed the room and gently took the Luna’s wrist, examining the injury with far more seriousness than such a wound normally deserved.

The girl spoke quietly.

Kael responded in a calm but firm voice.

"Don’t heal those bruises."

Seraphina’s attention sharpened.

Heal?

The word lingered in her thoughts.

The Luna frowned slightly, clearly confused by the instruction, but she nodded anyway.

Kael began cleaning the wound himself.

No healer had been summoned. No servant had been called.

Instead he worked quietly with a needle and thread, carefully stitching the cut closed with steady hands.

The memory faded.

The images dissolved until Seraphina once again stood inside her silent chamber with the raven perched calmly on her arm.

For several seconds she remained still.

Then she walked to the window and released the bird into the night.

It vanished instantly into the darkness.

Seraphina remained standing there, her gaze drifting toward the sleeping fortress below.

"Don’t heal those bruises," she murmured thoughtfully.

The words made no sense.

The Luna was wolfless.

Everyone knew that.

A wolfless girl had no ability to heal beyond what any normal body could do. And yet Kael had spoken as though healing were something she could choose to stop.

Seraphina turned away from the window and returned to her desk.

She pulled a notebook closer and began writing.

The quill moved quickly across the page.

Luna wolfless.

Bond with Kael confirmed.

Training in secret.

Refuses healer assistance.

Kael personally tending wounds.

Kael statement: "Don’t heal those bruises."

She leaned back slightly and studied the list.

One detail bothered her more than the rest.

Seraphina rose and crossed the room toward the tall bookshelf lining the wall.

Most of the volumes there contained political records or territorial agreements from recent years. They held little value tonight.

Instead she moved to the locked cabinet hidden behind them.

The key turned quietly.

Inside were the older books—the ones her grandmother had collected during the long years spent hunting dangerous bloodlines that once threatened the balance of the packs.

Seraphina removed three volumes and carried them back to the desk.

The first book described ancient seals.

She flipped through the pages until she found the passage she needed.

Her finger traced the faded ink slowly.

Seals created with blood magic recognize only the bloodline used in their creation. No force can break them from the outside. Only the blood that formed them may pass through.

Seraphina closed the book.

The chamber seal had been created using White Wolf blood.

Her grandmother had taken that blood from the prisoner still chained beneath the fortress.

The last known White Wolf. Or so everyone believed.

She opened the second book.

The pages were older, the ink faint in places.

White Wolf abilities.

Healing.

She began reading.

Unlike ordinary pack healers, White Wolves did not channel the strength of their wolves. Their healing burned through their own life force instead.

Every act of healing consumed something permanent.

A scar formed each time the power was used.

Each scar marked one act of healing.

Seraphina continued reading.

Without a fully awakened wolf, the body could not endure endless consumption. After forty-seven uses, the body would collapse.

The final act of healing would also be the final act of life.

Seraphina closed the book slowly.

Her gaze drifted back to the notebook.

"Don’t heal those bruises."

If the Luna carried White Wolf blood...

If she possessed healing magic she did not yet understand...

Then Kael’s warning suddenly made perfect sense.

Seraphina leaned back in her chair as the pieces began aligning in her mind.

The strange bond.

Kael’s secrecy.

The refusal to use healers.

A faint smile curved her lips.

"She doesn’t know," Seraphina murmured.

The Luna had no idea what she truly was.

Which meant she might have been using that power for years without understanding the cost.

Seraphina reached for the notebook again.

The question that mattered most was simple.

How many times had she used it?

How many scars already marked her body?

And how close was she to forty-seven?

Seraphina stood.

Her decision formed quickly.

She rang the small bell beside her desk.

The spy arrived before dawn.

She was a quiet woman with a forgettable face who had spent fifteen years working in the fortress kitchens—someone most people would never notice twice.

Seraphina gestured for her to step forward.

"You witnessed the Luna’s training," she said.

"Yes, my lady."

"Tell me everything you saw."

The woman described the fight, the knife, and the wound in careful detail. She repeated Mira’s offer of help, the Luna’s refusal, and Kael arriving later to stitch the injury himself. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

Seraphina listened without interrupting.

When the woman finished, Seraphina leaned slightly forward.

"I need you closer to her."

The spy hesitated.

"Elara is her personal attendant."

"Not for long."

"My lady?"

"Her sister lives in the lower territories. Tomorrow morning she will receive urgent news that requires her presence immediately."

Understanding slowly dawned in the woman’s eyes.

"And when she leaves?"

"You will take her place."

The woman nodded.

"And what is my task?"

Seraphina met her gaze calmly.

"You will observe the Luna closely. Every day. Every moment possible."

"And report?"

"Yes."

"What exactly should I watch for?"

Seraphina’s voice lowered slightly.

"Scars."

The spy blinked.

"My lady?"

"Count them."

The woman remained silent for a moment before nodding.

"And if there are many?"

Seraphina smiled slowly.

"Then things will become very interesting."

A knock interrupted the quiet room.

Seraphina did not immediately look up.

"Who is it?"

"Ivy."

Her quill paused.

For a moment Seraphina said nothing. Then she closed the notebook and leaned back in her chair.

"Come in."

The door opened slowly.

Ivy stepped inside with her travel cloak still around her shoulders. She looked tired, though the tension in her posture suggested she had been preparing for this conversation long before she arrived.

Seraphina studied her.

"You arrived late."

"I came as fast as I could."

"Did anyone see you?"

"I don’t think so."

"Good."

Ivy stepped closer to the desk.

"You said you wanted to speak with me."

"Yes."

Seraphina folded her hands.

"I heard you came to visit your sister."

Ivy hesitated.

"Something like that."

"You don’t sound very fond of her."

Ivy gave a small, bitter laugh.

"You would understand if you had grown up with her."

"Would I?"

Ivy’s jaw tightened.

"Everything in my family revolved around Liora," she said. "Even when she had nothing."

"Nothing?"

"She’s wolfless."

Seraphina nodded slowly.

"Yes. I’ve heard."

"And yet she’s Luna now."

Frustration lingered in Ivy’s voice, quiet but unmistakable.

Seraphina noticed it immediately.

"You believe that position should have been yours."

Ivy did not deny it.

"I came because I want my future secured."

Seraphina tapped a finger lightly on the desk.

"Ambition is not a crime."

She leaned forward slightly.

"And ambition can be rewarded."

Ivy straightened.

"What do you need from me?"

"Information."

"About Liora?"

"Yes."

Ivy shrugged.

"She’s weak. Always has been."

"No strange abilities?"

"No."

"No unusual incidents growing up?"

Ivy shook her head.

"Nothing."

Seraphina watched her carefully.

"Did she ever have unusual marks on her skin?"

Ivy blinked.

"What kind of marks?"

"Small ones," Seraphina said. "Scattered."

Ivy frowned, thinking.

"I don’t think—"

She stopped.

Seraphina noticed the shift in her expression immediately.

"What is it?"

Ivy hesitated.

"Actually..."

"When we were children, she didn’t have them."

Seraphina remained very still. "Didn’t have what?"

"The marks," Ivy said slowly.

"They appeared later. Over the years."

"How many?"

"I don’t know," Ivy admitted. "Quite a lot. I always thought they were birthmarks."

Seraphina’s gaze sharpened.

"And they weren’t there when she was young?"

"No."

The room fell silent.

Seraphina leaned back in her chair.

"I see."

Ivy shifted slightly. "Why are you asking about this?"

Seraphina smiled faintly.

"Curiosity."

Ivy did not look convinced.

Seraphina stood and opened the door.

"You must be tired after traveling. A room has been prepared for you."

Ivy nodded.

"Thank you."

She stepped into the hallway.

Just before she left, Seraphina spoke again.

"Ivy."

She turned.

"Yes?"

"If you remember anything else about your sister..."

Seraphina paused.

"Tell me."

Ivy nodded once and walked away.

The corridor fell silent again.

Seraphina closed the door and returned to her desk.

She opened the notebook.

Her quill hovered over the page before finally moving.

Marks appeared later.

She stared at the words for a long moment.

If they had appeared gradually...

Then they were not birthmarks.

Seraphina’s smile returned.

"Scars," she murmured.

And suddenly a far more dangerous question surfaced in her mind.

How many were already on the Luna’s body?

And how close might she be...

to forty-seven.

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