Chapter 49 The Perfect Spy
Wynter’s POV
We walked back to Jax and Rosalie. Jax's gaze went to the healing scratch on my cheek; guilt flashed, then his expression hardened. His collar pulsed as he forced himself to look at Chase.
"Well?" he demanded.
"Chase is going to help us," I said. "With the investigation into my father's death."
"Absolutely not," Jax snapped. "Sis, you can't trust him—"
"I can," I said. "And I do. Work with him. For me."
Jax exhaled. "Fine. I'll work with him." He turned to Chase, collar flaring. "But don't mistake cooperation for trust, Sterling."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Chase said.
Jax held out his hand. "I'm waiting for the day you show your true colors—the day you betray her like your family betrayed her father. When that day comes, I'll pick up the pieces."
They shook.
"For Wynter," Jax said.
"For Wynter," Chase agreed.
Through the Bond, I felt Chase's hurt, but he swallowed it.
"We need your help too, Rosalie," I said. "To catch whoever's feeding information to my father's killers."
Rosalie nodded. "I'm in."
---
That evening in Chase's suite, he pulled up Owen Fletcher's file: Bloodrock Highlands, part-time Archive Assistant, ward of the state. A thin boy with dark hair and watchful eyes stared from the screen.
"An orphan from Bloodrock with archive access," Jax said.
"Including anything tied to diplomatic missions," I added. "Like my father's visit to Silvermoon."
I studied Owen's photo. "Tomorrow we make him panic, then we follow."
---
In Advanced Territorial History, Owen sat three rows ahead of us, his left hand moving across his notebook. Professor Stone's voice rose above the scratch of pens.
"The Treaty of Silver Falls established protocols designed to prevent the tragedy five years ago, when Emerald Valley's emissary was killed en route to Silvermoon."
My breath caught; Rosalie's hand found mine under the desk. Owen's pen stilled for a fraction of a second.
When Stone asked him to explain the archive classification system, I watched closely. "And have you processed requests for restricted documents?" I asked.
"Occasionally," Owen said, meeting my gaze. "Every access is logged and reviewed."
Logged and reviewed. But logs can be altered.
---
After class, we met Chase and Jax in the library.
"He reacted when Stone mentioned my father's case," I told Chase. "Just for a second."
"Owen has late-night archive access twice a week," Chase said, checking his phone. "Perfect time to pull files he shouldn't—or meet someone."
"We make him panic," he added. "Let him overhear us. Name him. Make him think we're close but not there yet."
"His shift starts in forty minutes," Rosalie said.
"Then let's go hunting," Chase said.
---
We settled near Owen's usual spot. Jax and Rosalie took a table by the entrance. Chase leaned close, voice pitched to carry.
"Someone in this school is leaking to Matthias's remnants."
Two tables over, Owen's shoulders tightened.
"You really think it's a student?" I asked.
"Someone quiet," Chase said. "Observant. Left-handed, based on the letter we found." He paused. "What about that scholarship student from Bloodrock? Owen Fletcher. He works in the archives."
Owen's left hand stilled.
"And he's an orphan," Chase added. "No family to ask questions. Perfect for someone who needed a spy after Matthias was arrested."
Owen's jaw clenched.
"Should we tell Headmaster Grey?" I asked.
"Not yet," Chase said. "We need proof. I'll have someone dig into his background—see if there are ties to the mastermind behind this."
Owen stood abruptly. He didn't run. He closed his textbook, pocketed his phone, and walked out.
Jax rose and followed. Rosalie waited thirty seconds, then did the same. Chase and I gave it a minute.
We found them under a stone archway.
"He went toward old faculty housing," Jax reported. "Kept looking back."
"He knows something's up," Chase said. "We follow anyway. He'll still have to report this."
---
Across campus, Scarlett Hayes's phone buzzed: Owen Fletcher. She'd only added his contact because Professor Stone required it.
Owen: I saw Sterling with Vaughn and that Rogue. And Sinclair. They're all together near the old faculty complex. They've been following me.
If she could bring Anne proof of what Chase was doing...
Scarlett: Where exactly are you?
Owen: Near the old observatory. Be careful. They're acting suspicious. Like they're hunting someone.
Scarlett messaged Anne: Sterling is up to something. Meet me at the old faculty complex.
---
We were approaching the old faculty housing when Scarlett appeared, phone in hand. Before Jax could push past, two academy patrol guards stepped out of a side path—silver badges gleaming—palms raised to block us.
"Routine patrol," one said, hand bracing Jax's chest. "Hold."
"Owen Fletcher just messaged me," Scarlett said, lifting her screen from behind the guards. "He says you're harassing him. That Sterling is abusing his authority."
Chase's eyes narrowed, scanning the guards' positioning. Through the Bond, I felt his calculation—this isn't random—and his quick decision: don't escalate.
"We're not harassing anyone," Chase said, voice measured. "We were having a conversation."
By the time the guards shifted formation and Jax shoved their arms aside, Owen was gone—his trail already cold.
Jax swore. "He used the stall those guards created. Someone tipped them off. He slipped past while we were pinned."
"Why respond to Owen?" Rosalie asked, sharp. "You barely know him."
Scarlett flushed. "We were paired for a history project. I have his contact."
"And you came running?" Jax said.
"Where is he?" Chase asked, voice tight.
"I don't know," Scarlett said. "He said near the observatory, but—"
Footsteps sounded. Anne Kaine emerged from behind a building, flanked by the patrol guards.
"Scarlett said you were here," she said, gaze fixed on Chase. "Save it—I'm not here for you. I heard you've been targeting a student. Owen Fletcher. Bloodrock."
She stepped closer, conflict in her expression—undecided between slap and salvation.
"You've been spending time with questionable company," she said. Her eyes flicked to me, sour jealousy brief, then back to Chase. "First you defend that Rogue. Now you're hunting scholarship students from my territory."
She studied his face. "What's this really about, Chase? What are you doing?"
There was a thread of pleading under the accusation.
"Nothing that concerns you," Chase said flatly.
Anne flinched, then hardened. "When Silvermoon's heir targets Bloodrock students, it concerns me. My father will want to know why."
She glanced at me; pain flickered and was gone. "Unless this is petty. Did Owen offend one of your... friends?"
"We weren't targeting anyone," I said, steady.
"No?" Anne's brow arched, but her focus never left Chase. "Then why was Owen worried? Why did he reach out for help?"
She crossed her arms, hands trembling before she stilled them. "If you have concerns about a Bloodrock student, bring them to me. Don't chase him around campus like a vigilante."
Come to me, her eyes seemed to say. Let me help you. Let me in.
"We were just talking," Rosalie said quietly.
"Talking," Anne repeated, skeptical. "Four of you following one scholarship student. That's quite the conversation."
She took a breath; when she spoke again, her voice dipped to vulnerable. "Please don't follow him anymore."
The please was almost inaudible. Then her mask snapped back.
"Unless you want this to become an official territorial incident."
Heat flared in Chase's eyes and banked. When he finally spoke, it was mild. "Noted."
Anne studied him for a long moment, then straightened, expression going cold.
"Come on, Scarlett," she said. "Let's leave them to their... conversation."