TRAITOR

The night was deep, and the moon cast a pale glow over the forest as Logan, Caleb, and the warriors made their way to the rogue camp. Rose’s mate, Ethan, who also was an alpha of the neighbouring pack, a tall and formidable warrior with a calm demeanor, walked beside Logan, his eyes scanning the surroundings with sharp precision.

They moved silently, their senses heightened, every rustle in the bushes causing them to tense. The air was thick with tension, each step taken with the utmost caution.

When they finally reached the clearing where the rogue camp was supposed to be, they were met with an eerie sight: emptiness. The place was deserted, not a single rogue in sight. Logan’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the area, his nostrils flaring as he took in the scents lingering in the air.

“It’s as if they were never here,” Ethan said, his voice a low growl.

Logan crouched down, inspecting the ground. “No, they were here. The scent is still fresh. They left in a hurry.”

Caleb walked around,