Chapter 11
Casper’s Pov}
The smoke was everywhere. It didn’t rise from a single spot — it swallowed the whole sky, blurring buildings, suffocating everything one way or the other. My lungs burned, and my vision blurred, but I kept going. The scream… it hadn’t stopped echoing in my ears. My mother’s voice — high, raw, and everywhere.
Yet I couldn’t pinpoint any direction. Even Ophelia looked at me wrong when I screamed for Mom. Mom, am I being delusional? NO
I know what I heard.
The pack settlement looked like a scene straight out of hell. Fire and brimstone consumed everything as I hurdled over a shattered food cart, the scent of charred meat sickening, even more than the stench of burnt fabric and blood.
Someone coughed near a nearly collapsed tent, their hand barely poking out from under rubble. “This didn’t happen due to the flames…” I said, assessing the destruction. “There was a fight.”
I dropped to my knees, heart drumming against my ribs, and hauled the debris off. A man I didn’t recognize blinked up at me, dazed and streaked with soot.
“Run,” I barked. “North ridge everyone who survived is regrouping there.”
He nodded, stumbled to his feet, and disappeared into the smoke.
I pressed on. My body moved on instinct — duck, turn, lift, help. My wolf was frantic beneath my skin, howling, pacing, panicking. But I couldn’t let it take over. Not yet. Not until I find her.
A fresh roar split the air, and I saw the eastern side of the camp cave under the pressure of the fire. Sparks shot skyward like fireflies scattering at night. My legs were shaking by now. I’d inhaled too much smoke. But I couldn’t stop.
Not until I found—
“Casper!”
The voice cracked through the haze, weak and choked, due to all this smoke no doubt. I turned sharply, following it without hesitation.
Mom’s tent… Or what used to be our tent.
The structure was mostly ash and ruined, just splinters of wood and charred cloth clinging to the frame. And beside it, lying on his side, blood staining the dirt beneath him a deep, angry red was Tyrion.
“No”
I was already sprinting.
He barely reacted to my steps, just shifted his eyes toward me. His face was striped in blood, soot plastered into his hair.
“Don’t move," I said,” I dropped to my knees beside him, pressing my hand to the wound. “Just…just stay still, okay? You’re going to be alright. We’ll find a healer”
“No,” he croaked, shaking his head the barest inch. “There’s no time.”
“There’s always time,” I growled, anger and fear mingling into something sharp. “You don’t get to die, not like this. Not now.”
Then he gazed at the earth like there was something I was supposed to find there. So I followed his gaze to find…. A hole in his gut…. so large it made my stomach turn.
He wheezed a laugh that sounded more like a gurgle. “You sound just like her now…”
My throat tightened. “Where is she? Tyrion. Where’s my mom?”
He flinched, not from pain, but memory. His eyes darted to the ruins of the tent, then back to me. “Osiris… came early. Hours ago. Before sunrise. No warning.......thought it would take two days_” His breath came in wheezes now, as he continued; "Find Jade.”
I clenched my jaw “I was supposed to protect her. If I had been here, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“You’re still a boy, young one. Don’t blame yourself, I couldn't protect her or myself. For that, I’m sorry…” His voice cracked on the words. “I fought him… by the Gods, I fought more than these old bones should allow. But he — he’s just stronger. He stabbed me through when I tried to block his path from getting to your mother.”
My hands trembled. “Is she alive?”
“I don’t know, young man... We got separated when they battled. She ran into the smoke. I tried to follow but… I couldn’t. I collapsed here.”
I looked around. The ground was wrecked, and blood died. No other tracks, no fresh trail.
“I shouldn’t have left,” I whispered. “I should’ve stayed—”
“She made me promise,” he said suddenly. “That I’d protect the camp. That I’d get the children to the caves. She knew what she was doing.”
I shook my head, blinking hard. “That doesn’t make it right. It doesn’t mean I was right to leave her behind.”
His breath hitched, sharp, and ragged. “Casper, your mother would be proud of the man she raised. You came back and that’s what matters…”
I leaned in closer as his words slurred. His hand groped the air until I took it. His grip was weak, fingers cold already.
“Listen to me. He’s not done. Osiris — he said something. Before he stabbed me. ‘Tell your Alpha I’ll finish what I started. I want them to watch it all burn.’”
I swallowed against the bitterness rising in my throat.
“You can’t fight him alone all by yourself. You’ll need them. The pack. The ones who still stand.”
“I know.”
His eyes fluttered. He was slipping. I bent over him. “Tyrion. Stay with me, damn it. Just for a little longer. Please.”
He smiled faintly. “I told her once… you’d be more dangerous than your father ever was.”
That broke something in me. Something brittle and buried deep.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should’ve… been faster.”
“No. You were brave. And when it comes to speed… you’re still the fastest I’ve ever come across.” His grip on my hand went slack. His chest rose once, shallow and barely there, then stilled.
I didn’t breathe for a moment. Couldn’t.
Tyrion was no longer with us…
Then I gradually reached up with both palms and pressed them gently over his eyes, closing them.
“Rest now,” I mumbled. “You have done enough.”
I sat there for a moment longer, listening to the crackle of fire and the distant screams. Suddenly the fires weren’t so hot, even when they burned my depravity. But inside me, something was going quiet. Focused. Cold.
There was no room left for guilt. No room for grief.
I rose, turned to the dying camp, and let the wolf in me growl with purpose.
This wasn’t over. Not even close. Osiris would have to pay.


















































































