Chapter 019: The Edge of Trust

Jackson's POV 

I walked back and forth in the courtyard, listening for the feeble breathing of the scout. The message etched into the wood—you're too late—burned into my head, mocking me. My tummy turned upside-down, the weight of every choice I had made squeezing down on my chest. Now, one could not dispute it. The traitor was still prowling, providing intelligence; the enemy knew every step we took.

Ava stood next to me; her eyes were keen and clear, but I could sense the anxiety under her composed front. This was personal, not only a hazard to our pack now. Our family was the goal; whoever drove this had been ahead of us everywhere. We had to act. But one bad action could cost us everything.

"How were they sure where to ambush the scouts?" Ava asked with a quiet but consistent tone. One of the several things I appreciated about her was her ability to remain cool under duress. She kept me in line.

I tightened my hands, rage bubbling under the surface. Gritting my teeth, "someone's been feeding them our plans," I muttered. The query is who.

She nodded, resolved on her face. Jackson, we are running out of time here. They are closing in and the group is on edge. Should we fail to identify the traitor shortly...

"I know," I said, my irritation leaking over. I stopped counting and ran a hand through my hair. " I know. We cannot, however, make any snap judgments. We really have to consider this.

Ava moved forward, her hand just brushing mine. Her touch anchored me even for a brief while. "We'll work this out," she replied gently, her voice full of subdued strength. We have gone too far to lose right now.

I glanced at her; the weight of everything tightened my chest. "We have to call the traitor out," I remarked aloud. Should they be aware of us being onto them, they will either try to flee or act.

But how do we accomplish that without tipping them off? Ava asked, her eyes closing with contemplation. "They'll vanish, or worse... strike before we're ready if they realize we're setting a trap."

She was right, and there was no simple response. Every project seemed like a gamble. We were walking a tightrope, and any trip could send us tumbling into anarchy.

"We could once more disseminate misleading information," I said. But we make it much more appealing this time. Something significant. Something they cannot seem to resist.

Ava wrinkled her brow and considered it. "And what would that be?"

Before I could respond, footfall grew closer. Turning to find Riley, one of my most reliable fighters, headed toward us Though his expression was tight, his motions exuded desperation that caused my heart to hammer.

" Alpha," he replied, his voice low yet forceful. "Something has changed. You really ought to see this.

Ava and I looked at one other then trailed Riley across the packhouse. Every step felt heavier as the corridor appeared to be longer than usual and I pondered what would possibly be waiting for us now. After Evan's treachery, we had barely been able to control the pack's anxiety; if another blow came, it could send everyone toward the edge.

Riley guided us to one of the rear rooms, hardly used for meetings. I entered as he opened the door and sensed the change in the mood right away. There, close to the room's center, was someone I hadn't expected to see.

Samantha?

Though she kept to herself and was among the most detached pack members, she had always been dependable and followed instructions. She seemed to have been in a fight since her long, dark hair was messy and her garments were just slightly ripped. But it was the look in her eyes that startled me—guilt and terror danced across her face.

"What's going on?," asks My voice hard as I moved across the room, I questioned.

Samantha gulped, peering warily at Ava then turning back to face me. " Alpha," she said, her voice shaking. I... I know who the traitor is.

Ava moved forward, her eyelids closing. "who?"

Samantha drew a long breath while shaking hands. "I heard a chat last night. Not meant to, really, I didn't. But I heard someone chatting in the forest close to the boundary. Their meeting was with someone from outside the pack.

Who was it? I insisted, my endurance running thin.

She stammered, remorse flooding her gaze. Riley was the one saying this.

My heart came to a stop. The room's air seemed to stop dead cold. I turned to study Riley, standing next to Ava, his face incomprehensible.

"Riley?," asked Ava murmured, incredulity tumbling through her voice.

What she was saying eluded me. Riley had spent years right by my side. He had battled with me, watched over the pack, guided me in making every important decision. The theory he could be a traitor...

"No," I shook my head and said. "That is not logical."

"I swear it's the truth, Alpha," Samantha said, her voice getting urgent. I overheard him discussing the attack and the scouts. He knew they were about to be ambushed.

Riley's face changed, rage flashing in his eyes. Stepping forward, he said, "you're wrong." From the outset, I have been devoted to this bundle. You are not going to believe this rubbish, are you?

My mind whirling, I gazed between them. Should Riley be the traitor, it would clarify how the enemy had one step ahead of us. But how could I believe that with all we had gone through together?

Ava softly yet forcefully touched my arm. Jackson, we really must be sure. Personal emotions cannot color our judgment.

She pointed out the right thing. We couldn't afford to rule out any possibility, even if I detested the notion.

"Samantha," I murmured, my voice steadying. Should your observations be accurate, we will require evidence.

She nodded swiftly. "I followed him after the conversation as I assumed you would say that. I noted where he had been meeting them. One finds a space in the woods close to the river. I am able to get you there.

Riley gazed at me; his expression hardened as the suspense in the room grew. He said nothing, but he was quiet enough to make me suspicious.

"Riley," I murmured, my voice frigid. "You're accompanying us."

He did not object, but his posture changed—something defensive, something guarded. Ava and I looked at each other once more; both of us knew this may be the turning point in all things.

With the moon throwing long shadows across the forest, we headed toward its edge. Samantha walked us gently but quickly through the thick undergrowth. My brain was a whirlpool of contradictory feelings. I had been blind if Samantha was correct, if Riley had been the traitor all along. Someone close to me had undermined all I had worked for.

Ava strolled next to me, her face inscrutable, but I could sense the strain radiating through her. This transcended the pack now to include more. It was about faith, allegiance, and the treachery of someone we had both thought of as a friend.

Samantha gestured toward a clearing just beyond the woods as we arrived at the riverbank. She said softly, "That's where I saw them."

As we approached, I signaled Ava and Riley to follow. Though the space was deserted today, there were obvious indicators of previous activity—footprints in the ground, traces of a tiny fire, and fabric pieces that seemed all too familiar.

Turning to meet him, I said, "Riley." "What's happening here?"

Though his countenance wore a mask of apathy, there was a flutter of something in his eyes—fear, remorse, perhaps even sorrow. He said, "You don't understand." "I did what I had to do to preserve the pack."

"By betraying us?" Ava had a strong voice and blazingly angry eyes.

Riley shook his head, teeth clenched. "I was not aiming to turn on you. I set out to stop them. Still, they were really strong. They would have wrecked us without anything from me.

"Who are they?" I asked, moving in closer. "Who's behind this?"

Riley hesitated, his confession weight hanging thick in the air. "It is not one individual." This is a group. Rogues, undoubtedly, but someone is guiding them—someone with power and influence. Years of preparation have gone into this.

I had a chilly dread slink in my chest. This covered more ground than I had thought.

And you believed that assisting them would ensure our safety? I asked, my voice low and hardly regulated anger.

Riley, whose voice broke, stated, "I thought I could buy us time." But I was in error.

I understood there was no turning back from this; the words hung in the air like a death sentence.

"Take him back to the packhouse," I gave the accompanying guards instructions. "He will come under criticism there."

Riley did not fight as they drove him away; nevertheless, I could see the guilt in his eyes as the weight of what he had d

one sank in. Even if I detested him for his treachery, I still felt grief for the man I had once trusted.