Chapter 50: Truth

Seraphine's POV

Betray?

The word slammed into me like a fist to the gut.

"What?" My voice came out hoarse, broken. "What are you talking about?"

Kaelen's grip on my tank top tightened. His eyes burned gold, wild and unstable. The wolf was right there, barely restrained beneath the surface.

"I've been locked in this room all day!" The words burst out of me, sharp and angry. "How the hell could I betray anyone?"

He didn't let me finish.

"I saved you from that lynx." His voice was low, deadly. Each word hit like a bullet. "I promised to help you find your sister. I broke the treaty to hide you from human. And this is how you repay me?"

My mouth fell open. "I didn't—"

"Don't lie to me." The gold in his eyes flared brighter. His hand shook, fingers digging into the fabric at my throat. "Don't you dare lie to me."

The bond pulsed. Hard. Violent waves of emotion crashed through the connection. Anger, yes. But underneath it—something else. Something darker.

Fear.

Not fear of me. Fear of something deeper. Something old.

It felt like betrayal. Like he'd been here before. Like someone else had done this to him, and now he was living it all over again.

Isolde.

The name whispered through my mind unbidden. I didn't know who she was. Didn't know what she'd done. But I could feel her shadow in every tremor of rage that poured through the bond.

"I didn't do anything," I said, forcing the words out. "I swear—"

His hand moved. Fast. He bent down without releasing me, his other hand wrapping around the hilt of the dagger still buried in the floorboards.

He yanked it free.

The blade came up between us. Silver. Sharp. The handle worn and cracked from years of use.

"Is this yours?"

His voice was quiet now. Dangerously quiet.

I stared at the weapon. At the chip near the tip. At the leather grip I'd wrapped myself when I was thirteen.

Shit.

I opened my mouth. Closed it. My brain scrambled for an explanation, for some way to make this make sense.

But there was nothing. No excuse. No lie that would work.

"Yes," I whispered.

The bond exploded.

Rage. Pure, unfiltered rage. It slammed into me so hard my vision blurred. My shoulder throbbed where it pressed against the floor.

Kaelen's eyes went completely gold. No trace of black left. Just molten, burning fury.

And underneath it—that fear again. Sharper now. More desperate.

He was afraid I was her. Afraid I'd do what she did.

"Then you better start talking." His voice had gone rough, guttural. The wolf was bleeding through. "Tell me what the plan was. Tell me who you're working with."

"I'm not—"

"Tell me!" He roared the words. The sound reverberated off the walls, shaking the floorboards beneath my body.

His free hand shot out, wrapped around my throat. Squeezed.

Not hard enough to cut off my air completely. But hard enough to make every breath a struggle.

"Tell me," he repeated, quieter now. His thumb pressed against my windpipe. "Tell me who sent you."

I clawed at his hand. My nails scraped against his skin, drawing thin lines of blood. But he didn't move. Didn't budge.

The bond screamed. Fury. Betrayal. Pain. All of it tangled together in a knot so tight I couldn't think.

Then he released me.

Shoved me back down. My head hit the floor. Stars exploded across my vision.

"Explain," he said. His voice was cold. Empty. "Now. Or I swear to God, Seraphine, I will make you regret ever stepping foot in my territory."

The words came out in a rush. "I've been locked in this room since yesterday night. I haven't left. I haven't talked to anyone. I don't know what you think I did, but—"

"My pack was attacked today."

The statement cut through my rambling like a blade.

I froze.

"Six wolves dead. Three more injured. And when we searched the bodies, we found this." He held up the dagger, turning it slowly in the light. "One of them admitted they tracked you here. By scent. Said they followed the trail from wherever you dropped this."

My blood turned to ice.

"They came looking for you, Seraphine. And they brought an army."

No.

"I killed them all." His voice was flat. Matter-of-fact. "Every single one. But not before they'd already done their damage."

The room tilted. My stomach churned.

They found me.

"The dagger," I said quickly. "I dropped it when I ran. When I escaped. I didn't—I wasn't marking a trail. I didn't mean to—"

"Then explain to me why they came here." His grip tightened on the weapon. "Why my wolves are dead."

"What did they look like?" The words burst out before I could stop them. "The people who attacked. Tell me what they looked like."

Kaelen's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Just tell me!"

Silence. Then he spoke.

"Dark tactical gear. Military grade. Leader had a scar running from his left eyebrow down to his cheek. Blonde. Built like a fucking tank. Another one had a tattoo on his neck—some kind of symbol I didn't recognize. They moved like soldiers. Trained. Coordinated."

My stomach dropped.

No. Please no.

"The one with the scar," I whispered. "Marcus?"

Kaelen went very still. "You know him."

It wasn't a question.

"He was my teacher." The words tasted like ash. "And now Silverwood's traitor, serving for Damien."

"Who the fuck is Damien?"

"The alpha who destroyed my pack." My voice cracked. "The one who killed my parents. Who's been hunting me and my sister."

Silence.

The bond pulsed. Slower now. More controlled. He was reading me. Searching for lies.

"Damien's from Ravecrest and I'm from Silverwood. We were once allies," I said. The words came out flat. Empty. "About a month ago, Damien and his father betrayed the alliance. Traitors inside our pack helped them trap us. My parents were killed protecting me and my sister."

Kaelen's expression didn't change. But something shifted in his eyes.

"We've been running since then," I continued. "Until I was attacked by that lynx..."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"Because I didn't know if I could trust you!" The words came out sharper than I intended. "I don't know you. I don't know anything about this place. For all I knew, you'd hand me over the second they showed up."

The silence stretched, thick with unspoken questions. The thrum of the bond against my senses shifted, becoming a slow, deliberate probe. He was sifting through my words, my memories, searching for the slightest tremor of deceit.