Chapter 125 up
The attack happened before dawn.
No one saw who came.
No one saw who left.
By the time the sun rose over the mist-covered hills of the Rathmere Valley, one of the most stable neutral packs in the region had already been torn apart.
Broken walls, scorched ground, and the lingering scent of violence told the story long before the survivors could speak.
But the strangest part was not the destruction.
It was the absence of a clear enemy.
The Rathmere Pack had always stayed neutral in the growing ideological divide between Lyra’s alliance and Kael’s expanding network of independent Alphas.
Their Alpha, Corvin, had refused to pledge loyalty to either side.
“We survive by staying outside wars,” he had said many times.
For years, that strategy had worked.
Until now.
When the first patrol returned to the pack’s main compound that morning, they found the gates shattered and several buildings reduced to rubble.
The scent of unfamiliar wolves lingered in the air.
But it was faint.
Confusing.
As if whoever had attacked had deliberately hidden their identity.
Tracks surrounded the compound, but they vanished abruptly at the edge of the forest.
The attackers had come like shadows.
And they had disappeared the same way.
By midday, word of the attack had begun spreading across nearby territories.
Within hours, both Lyra’s council and Kael’s network received the same report.
A neutral pack had been destroyed.
And no one knew who was responsible.
Lyra read the first report in silence.
Selka stood beside her desk, arms crossed tightly as she scanned the details on the tablet screen.
“Thirty wounded,” Selka muttered.
“Six dead.”
Lyra’s jaw tightened slightly.
“And Alpha Corvin?”
Selka scrolled further down the report.
“Alive.”
“Barely.”
Lyra exhaled slowly.
Rathmere had been one of the few packs successfully maintaining neutrality despite the growing pressure from both sides of the ideological conflict.
An attack like this was more than violence.
It was a message.
The question was—who had sent it?
Selka leaned against the desk.
“The first accusations have already started.”
Lyra looked up.
“Against who?”
Selka gave a dry laugh.
“Everyone.”
Lyra frowned.
“Explain.”
Selka pulled up several additional reports.
“Some packs think Kael’s followers attacked Rathmere to force neutral territories into choosing sides.”
Lyra nodded slowly.
“That would make sense strategically.”
Selka tapped the screen again.
“But Kael’s supporters are claiming the opposite.”
Lyra already knew the answer.
“They think we did it.”
Selka shrugged.
“According to them, Lyra’s alliance attacked a neutral pack to scare others into joining your system.”
Lyra leaned back in her chair.
“That’s absurd.”
Selka smirked slightly.
“Politics rarely cares about what’s absurd.”
Lyra studied the damage reports again.
Buildings destroyed.
Supply stores burned.
Strategic structures disabled.
The attack had been precise.
Deliberate.
Not random violence.
Whoever had done this understood pack warfare.
Selka watched her quietly.
“You’re thinking the same thing I am.”
Lyra nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
“This wasn’t the work of amateurs.”
Selka folded her arms.
“Which means it’s either a trained pack… or someone who wanted it to look like one.”
Lyra’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“A third party.”
Selka shrugged.
“Maybe.”
“But good luck convincing everyone else of that.”
The political consequences were already unfolding.
Neutral packs across the region had begun demanding explanations.
Some were preparing defensive patrols.
Others were quietly reconsidering alliances.
Fear had entered the equation.
And fear made wolves choose sides faster than ideology ever could.
Lyra stood and walked toward the large window overlooking the city.
Night had begun settling over the skyline.
Lights flickered across the distant streets, but her thoughts were far from the city below.
Selka watched her for a moment.
“You’re wondering if Kael did it.”
Lyra didn’t answer immediately.
Because the truth was complicated.
Strategically, the attack could benefit Kael.
Neutral packs frightened by violence might turn toward his philosophy of strength and independence.
But the same logic applied to Lyra’s alliance.
Fear could push wolves toward structured protection as well.
Which meant the attack benefited both sides.
And that made it even more dangerous.
Selka broke the silence.
“You want my honest opinion?”
Lyra glanced back.
“Yes.”
Selka shrugged.
“I don’t think Kael would attack a neutral pack.”
Lyra raised an eyebrow.
“That’s surprisingly generous.”
Selka smirked slightly.
“I didn’t say he wouldn’t start a war.”
“But attacking a neutral pack without claiming responsibility?”
She shook her head.
“That doesn’t fit his style.”
Lyra looked back out the window.
Deep down, she had been thinking the same thing.
Kael was many things.
Ruthless.
Unpredictable.
Dangerously persuasive.
But he had always been direct.
When Kael fought someone, he did it openly.
Not from the shadows.
Selka walked over beside her.
“So the real question is…”
She gestured toward the dark horizon beyond the city.
“…who benefits from making both of you look guilty?”
Lyra’s expression hardened slightly.
“That’s exactly what worries me.”
Because if someone had deliberately staged the attack to provoke suspicion between her alliance and Kael’s followers…
Then the situation was far worse than it appeared.
Far away in the northern forests, Kael received the same report.
Torren handed him the tablet without saying a word.
Kael read the details carefully.
The Rathmere attack.
Neutral pack.
No identifiable attackers.
Political accusations already spreading.
Torren waited patiently while Kael finished reading.
“Well?” Torren asked.
Kael handed the tablet back.
“That wasn’t one of ours.”
Torren nodded immediately.
“I figured.”
Kael crossed his arms thoughtfully.
“The tactics are wrong.”
Torren raised an eyebrow.
“Wrong how?”
Kael looked toward the distant tree line.
“If I wanted to force neutral packs into choosing sides, I’d make sure they knew exactly who attacked them.”
Torren chuckled.
“That’s refreshingly honest.”
Kael ignored the comment.
“This attack was meant to create confusion.”
Torren nodded slowly.
“Which means someone wants us blaming each other.”
Kael’s eyes darkened slightly.
“Yes.”
Torren studied him carefully.
“You think Lyra did it?”
Kael didn’t hesitate.
“No.”
Torren blinked.
“You’re certain?”
“Yes.”
Torren leaned back against a tree.
“That’s a lot of trust for someone who’s technically your rival.”
Kael’s voice remained calm.
“Lyra doesn’t operate like that.”
Torren crossed his arms.
“Funny.”
“Her council probably thinks the same thing about you.”
Kael said nothing.
But Torren could already see the problem forming.
If both sides believed the other was innocent…
Then someone else was playing a much larger game.
Late that night, Lyra remained alone in the council chamber.
The attack reports were spread across the large table before her.
She studied every detail again.
Every movement.
Every timeline.
Every witness statement.
But no matter how carefully she analyzed the information, one truth remained painfully unclear.
They had no enemy to confront.
Selka’s earlier words echoed in her thoughts.
Someone wants us blaming each other.
Lyra leaned back slowly in her chair.
Her gaze drifted toward the dark city skyline beyond the windows.
Somewhere beyond those distant lights and forests, Kael was probably reading the same reports.
Analyzing the same attack.
Drawing the same conclusions.
The thought lingered longer than she expected.
And then something even quieter surfaced beneath it.
A silent hope she hadn’t intended to acknowledge.
Lyra closed her eyes briefly.
Because despite everything—the rivalry, the ideological war, the growing tension between their factions—
She found herself hoping for one simple thing.
That Kael had nothing to do with the attack.
Not because it would simplify the political situation.
Not because it would make the investigation easier.
But because some part of her refused to imagine him as the kind of wolf who would destroy innocent packs from the shadows.
The world around them was already drifting dangerously close to war.
If Kael truly had crossed that line…
Then the fragile thread connecting them—however complicated it had become—would finally break.
And Lyra wasn’t sure the world would survive what came after that.