Chapter 8: The Pack's Darkest Hour

“That’s what we need to find out,” I said, glancing at each member in turn. “Rowan indicated that Alaric is searching for something—something tied to the prophecy that led to my rejection as Luna.”

A heavy silence fell over the room as the council absorbed this information. The prophecy had always been a source of contention, its ominous words casting a long shadow over the pack’s decisions.

But now, it seemed that prophecy might be more than just a forewarning—it could be the key to understanding Alaric’s motives.

“Rowan was attacked shortly after entering our territory,” I continued, my tone grave. “Someone doesn’t want him sharing what he knows. We must assume the worst—that there may be a traitor among us.”

The weight of my words hung in the air, and I saw the flicker of fear in their eyes. The idea of a traitor within our ranks was more terrifying than any external threat.

It meant we couldn’t trust our own, that we were vulnerable from within.

“What do you propose we do?” Gideon asked, breaking the silence, his voice steady.

“First, we secure the packhouse and our borders,” I replied. “Double the patrols, increase our defenses. No one enters or leaves without our knowledge.”

“And Rowan?” Elder Thorne asked, his tone cautious. “Can we trust him?”

I hesitated. “He’s injured, badly. Lysa is tending to him now. We’ll need to wait until he’s stable before we can question him further. But for now, we should proceed with caution.”

Elder Maris leaned forward, her eyes narrowing with concern. “And what of the prophecy, Sera? If Alaric seeks it, we must understand it fully.”

I nodded, understanding the urgency in her words. “I’ll review the old texts, see if there’s anything we’ve missed—anything that could give us insight into what Alaric is after.

The prophecy is more than just words—it’s a warning, and we need to decipher its true meaning.”

Gideon glanced around the table, his expression hardening. “We also need to root out the traitor. Whoever attacked Rowan did so with the intent to silence him. If we don’t find them soon, they could strike again—and next time, it could be one of us.”

The gravity of the situation settled over us all, and I could see the resolve in their eyes. The council might not have fully trusted Rowan, but they understood the danger we were in.

Alaric Draven was a threat we couldn’t ignore, and the traitor among us made it even more urgent.

“Let’s not waste any more time,” I said, my voice firm. “We all have our roles to play. We need to be vigilant, united. This is no longer just about protecting our pack—it’s about survival.”

The council members nodded in agreement, the tension in the room easing slightly as they began to discuss the steps we needed to take.

Plans were made to fortify the packhouse, to question every member of the pack, and to review the ancient texts for clues. We couldn’t afford any mistakes.

As the meeting concluded, Gideon approached me, his expression unreadable. “Sera,” he said quietly, “I don’t like this. Rowan showing up out of nowhere, this prophecy, Alaric… it all feels like a trap.”

“I know,” I admitted, meeting his gaze. “But what choice do we have? We need to find out what Rowan knows before it’s too late.”

Gideon nodded reluctantly. “Just be careful. If Rowan’s telling the truth, we’re up against something far bigger than we anticipated. And if he’s lying…”

“We’ll deal with that when the time comes,” I finished for him. “Right now, we need to stay focused.”

Gideon gave a short nod and turned to leave, but before he could, one of the warriors burst into the room, his face pale and eyes wide with alarm.

“What is it?” I demanded, my heart leaping into my throat.

“It’s Rowan,” the warrior said breathlessly. “He’s gone.”

“What do you mean, gone?” I asked, fear prickling at the back of my neck.

“He was in the infirmary, unconscious,” the warrior explained, his voice trembling. “But when I checked on him just now, his bed was empty. There was blood—everywhere. It looks like he was dragged away.”

A chill ran down my spine. If Rowan had been taken, it meant the traitor was more dangerous than we’d thought—and they were right under our noses.

“Find him!” I ordered, adrenaline surging through me. “And whoever took him—bring them to me.”

As the warrior ran off to carry out my orders, I couldn’t shake the growing sense of dread. We were already too late. The enemy was inside our walls, and now, we were being hunted.

I didn’t have to look at Gideon to know he was thinking the same thing. We were out of time, and the real battle was just beginning.