The rain came before dawn, thin and cold, crawling down the walls of the Silvercrest pack house like restless spirits. By the time the sun struggled through the clouds, the courtyard was a mess of mud and wet footprints — omegas hurrying with bundles of fabric, scouts coming and going, the elders' voices cutting through the corridors with their usual demands.
Beta Garrick walked through the hall with his head low, his mind heavy with the weight of the night's secret. Every creak of the floorboards felt too loud, every breath too visible. The plan had worked — or so he hoped. Elara was gone. Out of Silvercrest's reach, beyond Roran's greed. But if they didn't play this carefully, the Alpha would smell the lie before the trail even cooled.
He found himself near the main chamber where Roran held his meetings, and already the sound of raised voices echoed from inside. Elder Taren's rasping tone. Elder Miriam's steady calm. Roran's deep growl weaving between them.
"Where is Amara?" Roran's voice thundered. "She was supposed to bring the girl for the ceremony!"
Garrick stepped into the hall just as Amara entered from the opposite corridor. Her hair clung damply to her temples, her uniform torn, blood seeping through her sleeve. She staggered slightly — but the wounds were real, just as they'd planned.
Roran's eyes narrowed at the sight. "What happened to you?"
Amara bowed low, wincing as the movement tugged at her bruises. "Alpha, I… I tried to stop them."
"Stop who?" Taren barked, his pale eyes gleaming with suspicion.
"The Blackridge wolves," she whispered. "They were waiting near the eastern border. I was escorting Elara from the dungeon when they attacked. I fought them off, but—" She hesitated, voice breaking, "they took her."
A wave of outrage rolled through the elders.
"What?" Taren slammed his hand against the table. "You lost her?"
Amara flinched. "I didn't lose her, Elder. They were too many."
Roran rose from his chair, the veins in his temple pulsing. "You mean to tell me Blackridge breached our borders and took my prisoner — and you're standing here breathing?"
"She tried, Alpha," Garrick cut in smoothly before Roran could explode further. "When I found her near the treeline, she was barely conscious. The scent trail confirmed her story — at least five of Kael's warriors, all marked."
The room went still. Roran's fury dulled, turning instead into something colder, sharper. He turned his gaze to Amara, studying her blood-streaked face. "And you saw Kael himself?"
Amara hesitated. Garrick stepped forward again, saving her the trouble. "No, Alpha. He wouldn't have risked being seen. But this was planned. They knew exactly where she was — and when to strike."
Roran's fingers tapped against the arm of his chair, slow and deliberate. "Then someone informed them."
A dangerous silence followed.
Amara's pulse pounded in her ears. "You think there's a traitor?"
"I know there is," Roran said. "And when I find who betrayed this pack, I'll make them wish the Moon never gave them breath."
Elder Taren leaned forward, his voice sharp. "Then what now? Kael will use the girl as a weapon against us. We can't let him grow stronger."
Roran's lips curved, but it wasn't a smile. "Oh, he's made his move. And I'll make mine."
He turned to Garrick. "Send word to our allies — the Frostvale and Hollowden packs. Tell them the Blackridge Alpha abducted one of ours. I want their support when I bring this to the regional council."
Garrick frowned, confused for a heartbeat. "You intend to use this—?"
Roran's eyes gleamed with something dark and calculating. "Of course. The Moon Goddess favors those who seize opportunity, Beta. Elara may be gone, but her absence gives me something better — a cause. A reason to wage a righteous war."
Elder Miriam's expression tightened. "You'd go to war over a girl you meant to marry off for politics?"
Roran met her gaze coolly. "Not over her. Over what she represents. Silvercrest will no longer be seen as weak or divided. The other packs will rally to us when they hear Kael broke peace terms to steal one of our own. This is how we rise again."
Taren gave a grim smile. "Ambitious… but dangerous."
"Everything worth having is," Roran replied, voice low and greedy. "Kael thinks he's taken something precious from me — but he's only handed me the fire I need."
As the council murmured among themselves, Garrick's jaw tightened. He knew that tone — that lust for power in Roran's voice. The Alpha wasn't mourning a lost wolf; he was already counting the lands and glory he could claim through her.
When the meeting ended, Garrick followed Amara out into the corridor. She was pale, shaking slightly, her hand pressed to her wounded arm.
"Breathe," he murmured low. "You did well."
Amara's voice quivered. "He believed it?"
"For now," Garrick said. "But Roran's too greedy to stop here. He'll use Elara's disappearance to fuel his next ambition."
She swallowed hard. "Then we did the right thing."
He nodded grimly. "Yes. We just bought her freedom — and maybe the pack's damnation."
From the main hall behind them, Roran's laughter echoed — cold, triumphant, echoing off the stone walls of Silvercrest like the toll of a war drum.
And for the first time in years, Garrick felt something close to dread.