Chapter 7: A Traitor's Strike

Without a word, we followed the warrior out of the room, Rowan close behind us. As we rushed through the hallways of the packhouse, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were walking into a trap. But there was no time for second-guessing.

When we reached the courtyard, my worst fears were confirmed. Lying in the center of the clearing was Rowan, his body crumpled and covered in blood. The sight of it made my breath catch in my throat.

“No!” I screamed, rushing forward to kneel beside him. “What happened? Who did this?”

But before anyone could answer, Rowan’s hand shot out, grabbing my wrist with a strength that belied his injuries. His eyes were wide, wild with pain and fear.

“Alaric…” he rasped, his voice barely a whisper. “He’s coming… He knows…”

His grip tightened, and I could see the desperation in his eyes. “You have to stop him… or we’re all… doomed.”

With that, his hand fell limp, and his eyes closed as he slipped into unconsciousness. My heart pounded in my chest as I looked around, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Rowan had barely been here for an hour, and already he’d been attacked.

“Who could have done this?” Gideon muttered, his voice low and tense.

I shook my head, feeling a sense of dread settling over me. “I don’t know. But this means Alaric knows more than we thought. And if he’s coming… we need to be ready.”

As I knelt there, my hands covered in Rowan’s blood, my mind raced. We were out of time. Whatever Alaric was planning, it was already in motion.

And if we didn’t find a way to stop him, the next attack wouldn’t just leave one wolf injured—it would tear our entire pack apart.

I stood up, my resolve hardening as I turned to Gideon. “Get everyone ready. We need to fortify the borders, double the patrols—whatever it takes. And we need to find out what Rowan knows before it’s too late.”

Gideon’s voice trailed off, but the warning in his eyes was clear. I nodded, already feeling the weight of the responsibility pressing down on me.

The attacks, Rowan’s arrival, and now this—everything was spiraling out of control, and I needed to be two steps ahead if we were going to survive.

We moved quickly, every warrior on high alert as we carried Rowan to the infirmary. The tension in the air was palpable, and I could sense the unease spreading through the pack.

We were all thinking the same thing: if Alaric’s reach extended this far, none of us were safe.

As we laid Rowan on the examination table, I couldn’t help but notice the deep gashes along his side, the bruises already forming around his ribs.

Whoever had attacked him hadn’t held back, and the thought that they could still be lurking nearby sent a chill down my spine.

Lysa, our pack’s healer, rushed in with a tray of supplies, her usually calm demeanor tinged with urgency. “What happened?”

“Rowan was attacked,” I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. “He needs help—now.”

Lysa nodded, her hands already moving with practiced precision as she began cleaning the wounds. “These injuries… they’re deep. He’s lucky to be alive.”

“He mentioned Alaric,” I added, leaning closer so only Lysa could hear. “He said Alaric knows something—he’s coming.”

Lysa’s hands faltered for just a second before she resumed her work, her expression hardening.

“Then we need to get answers from him as soon as he’s stable. If Alaric is on the move, we’re running out of time.”

I watched as she worked, the steady rhythm of her movements doing little to calm the storm raging inside me. Rowan had risked everything to come here, and now he was on the brink of death.

Whatever information he had, it was crucial—and it was up to me to make sure we got it before it was too late.

As Lysa continued to treat Rowan, I stepped back, my mind racing through the possibilities. We needed to secure the borders, tighten security, and most importantly, find out who had attacked Rowan within our own territory.

Someone had managed to breach our defenses, and that meant we had a traitor in our midst.

I didn’t have the luxury of waiting for Rowan to wake up. Time was against us, and if we didn’t act quickly, the next attack could be the one that shattered Silverwood for good.

“Gideon,” I called, my voice firm as I turned toward the door. He was already there, his eyes locked on me.

“Gather the council,” I instructed, my tone leaving no room for argument. “We need to plan our next move. And I want every patrol doubled—no one goes in or out without my approval.”

Gideon nodded, his expression grim. “I’ll take care of it.”

As he left, I lingered for a moment, my gaze falling back on Rowan’s unconscious form. There was something about him—something that told me he was more than just a rogue caught in the crossfire. He was a key player in this game, whether he wanted to be or not.

But the question remained: what did Alaric know, and how far was he willing to go to get it?

I couldn’t afford to wait for the answers to come to me. I had to find them, no matter what it took.

Steeling myself, I left the infirmary and headed toward the packhouse. The weight of the pack’s future bore down on me with every step, but I couldn’t let it crush me. I had to stay strong, for their sake—for all of our sakes.

When I reached the packhouse, the council was already gathering, the tension in the room

The tension in the room was almost suffocating, thickening the air as I stepped inside. The council members—elders, warriors, and trusted advisors—were all seated around the large oak table, their faces reflecting the unease that had settled over Silverwood.

Gideon stood at the head of the table, his arms crossed as he waited for me to speak. He gave a brief nod as I approached, signaling that everyone was present and ready.

I took a deep breath, pushing aside the swirl of thoughts in my mind. Now was the time for action, not hesitation.

“Thank you all for gathering on such short notice,” I began, my voice clear and steady. “We have a situation that demands immediate attention.”

Elder Thorne, a stern and seasoned warrior with a silver streak in his dark hair, leaned forward. “What’s the nature of this situation, Sera?”

“Rowan Knight, a rogue, crossed into our territory earlier today,” I explained, choosing my words carefully.

“He claims to have information regarding the recent attacks on our pack—information that could link these incidents to Alaric Draven.”

A murmur of shock and concern rippled through the room. Alaric Draven was a name that carried weight, a figure known for his brutal tactics and ruthless ambition. If he was involved, the stakes were higher than we had imagined.

“Alaric Draven?” Elder Maris, the eldest member of the council and the pack’s historian, echoed, her voice trembling with age and worry. “What does he want with Silverwood?”