Cora

POV: JACKSON

At the age of 15, my father told me stories about witches. He viewed them as manipulators of reality, and his disdain for them was evident; he wanted them kept at a distance from our pack territory. They never lived among us, yet he wished for them to be as far away as possible.

From what my father told me, the Witches of Maletros were a small coven, led by a kind and gentle elderly woman. She didn't like using her powers for conflict or malice. Nevertheless, my father still didn't like them living close to our territory.

Despite his views about them, he never pursued any aggressive actions against them. The woman believed that for their own safety, they should relocate further away. Thus, they settled far from our territory.

Following her passing, her granddaughter, Cora, took over leadership. At 30, she's four years my senior. Cora is smart, cunny, and manipulative—traits I'm not attributing to her witchcraft alone. Whenever my father arranged meetings with her grandmother, Cora would always accompany her.

Our interactions during those meetings often led to heated verbal fights, though they never escalated to physical confrontations. Ever since I became Alpha after my father's death, we haven't any meetings; there seemed to be no reason to. Our encounters are limited to the state's monthly supernatural general meetings.

I sent an invitation to Cora three days ago, tagging it as urgent but received a response today, saying she would arrive in the evening. When she entered my office, her expression was neutral. She wore a flowing green gown that draped to the floor, adorned with handprints embedded on the fabric. Her hair was neatly arranged in a tidy bun.

Standing behind her were three familiar faces: two women and a man. One of the women and the man had accompanied her grandmother during meetings with my dad, so I recognized them well. The other woman was Cora's closest ally and best friend.

Cora entered and took a seat, while the others remained standing behind her. Chris and Sam positioned themselves behind me, with a few bodyguards stationed outside.

"You really took your sweet time," I remarked.

She scanned my room, her eyes wandering over everything before meeting mine. "I had things to attend to."

"Like what? Casting spells on objects and giving them orders?"

One of her eyes twitched slightly before she shot back, "as long as we don't act like a dog, we're okay."

A silence enveloped us as we exchanged hostile glares. The corners of her mouth lifted in a smirk. "It's been a while since I was last here. Nothing's changed, has it?"

"Of course, you're still as unpleasant as ever."

"Likewise. Now, enough of this small talk—why am I here?"

"There's a problem and that problem involves your... people."

"Go on."

"Someone is using magic to manipulate the minds of my pack and instructing them to kill someone."

"So?"

"I think you missed the part where I mentioned magic."

"We're not the only witches around."

"Your coven is the only one in our area. The others are miles away."

"So what I'm hearing is that we're responsible for…" She waved her hands dismissively. "Whatever's happening in your pack?"

"With magic in the mix, yes," I replied matter-of-factly.

A smile crept onto her face. "Don't make me chuckle, Jackson. Do you really think we're so idle that we'd start coming up with tricks against your pack?"

"Isn't that the essence of your identity? Magic tricks? So, it wouldn't surprise me."

"Even if it involves my coven, I can't possibly know everything they do." She leaned in, placing her hand across the other in a straight line. "Please don't tell me you expect me to interrogate my people over something trivial?" Her smile was laced with contempt.

"Trivial?"

She reclined slightly, casting her gaze around the room before asking, "Isn't it?"

"I'm just letting you know, so you can't claim I didn't warn you. If I find out your coven is mixed up in this, I'll ensure to wipe out everyone involved."

Her lips curled into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "You don't really believe witches are powerless, do you?"

"I think we're about to discover the truth of that."

She tilted her head slightly, a mischievous grin forming on her lips. "Is that meant to be a threat?"

"The one they're trying to kill is my mate," I leaned in, echoing her earlier stance, "that is a threat."

The playful smirk disappeared from her face as she rose to her feet. "So, your moon goddess has blessed you with another? You must be her favorite."

"If I were you, I'd handle that information wisely."

She locked her gaze with mine for a moment before looking away. "We'll see about that," she replied, turning and walking off, followed by three companions.

"I'll make sure she exits the pack without causing any trouble," Sam remarked before departing.

"Isn't it wild how you can never quite tell when Cora is acting suspicious or just being herself? She's been like that since our teenage years," I remarked to Chris.

"True, but weren't there five of them when they first arrived? Only four made it here?" Chris questioned, a look of concern on his face.

"I wasn't with them when they got here," I replied.

"I might be wrong, though. It was getting pretty dark at that time."

"Just to be safe, why don't you go with Sam and check if they're five when they leave?"

Chris nodded and headed out.

About twenty minutes later, Saint entered with Mateo, who gave me a slight bow, which I acknowledged with a nod. "I just wanted to catch up on how things went," Saint said.

I filled him in on my conversation with Cora. "Could another coven be involved in this? Maybe we shouldn't zero in on just one coven?" Mateo suggested.

"They're the only coven in this area," I replied, just as Chris returned.

"Jackson, there were five of them. The third person didn't come here with Cora."

"Why not?"

"I asked, but they claimed they didn't know she was with them. They mentioned that she usually drops by here."

I stood up, "What? That's ridiculous! How could they not recognize her as a witch? They should have sensed it!"

"I smelt her, Jackson. She didn't carry the witch's scent. I think she's mixed."

"Mixed? If she came with Cora, that suggests she leans toward that part of her identity. Why does she keep coming here?"

"I'm not sure. Before I could figure it out, they were gone. But I did catch her name—Ava. Her name is Ava."

"Ava? Isn't that..." Mateo began, glancing at Saint, whose eyes widened in realization, "that's Marcus's sister."