Chapter 72: The Whisper of Betrayal

Mariana’s POV

The scent of morning dew clung to the air, but there was no peace in it. The pack was restless. Whispers of unease threaded through the corridors, lingering in the tense exchanges between warriors and the wary glances of the council members.

Someone had attacked Alexander within our own walls.

And worse—whoever it was had left a warning.

You’re already too late.

Too late for what? That question had kept me awake through the night. If the enemy had already made their move, we needed to find out where—and fast.

Eva walked beside me as we crossed the castle grounds toward the eastern barracks. “The warriors are on edge,” she muttered. “I told you—people can feel when something’s wrong. They just don’t know who to blame yet.”

I glanced toward the training fields, where a group of young warriors sparred. Their movements were quick, aggressive—too aggressive. They were restless. Anxious. Alexander had kept his wound hidden from most of the pack, but rumors spread fast. If we didn’t get control of this soon, paranoia would do more damage than the enemy ever could.

Eva nudged my arm. “You’re thinking too hard.”

I sighed. “Not hard enough. ”She smirked, but there was no humor in it. “Come on, let’s get some answers.”

Alexander was already inside when we arrived, standing near the doorway with Garrick at his side. His face was unreadable, but I saw the tension in his stance. In the center of the room, kneeling with his hands bound, was a man I recognized—Tristan, one of the patrol scouts.

His head was bowed, his dark hair falling over his face, but when Alexander spoke, he lifted his gaze.

“You were near the east wing last night,” Alexander said. “Explain why.”

Tristan’s jaw clenched. “I was on duty.” “At that hour?” Eva crossed her arms. “Funny, because your shift was over two hours earlier.”

A flicker of something—nervousness?—passed over Tristan’s face.

“I… stayed behind,” he admitted. “I wanted to check the patrol routes one last time.”

Lies. Alexander took a slow step forward. “And you didn’t see anything? Hear anything?”

Tristan hesitated. Too long.

Garrick moved fast, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him forward. “You’re lying.”

“I swear, I don’t know who attacked the Alpha!” Tristan’s voice was hoarse. “But…” His eyes darted toward me. “I did hear something.”

The room went still. “Go on,” I said. He swallowed hard. “Two voices. A man and a woman. I didn’t recognize them, but they were whispering about the border. About a message being sent.”

A message. My stomach twisted.

Alexander’s gaze sharpened. “What else?”

Tristan hesitated again. “They said… it wasn’t over.”

A cold chill ran through me.

Eva exhaled. “Well, that’s just fantastic.”

Alexander’s fists tightened. “We need to move.”

I nodded. “If they’re planning something at the border, we don’t have much time.”

The hunt had begun.

And this time, we weren’t waiting for them to strike.

We were going to find them first.

Tristan’s words hung in the air like a curse.

“It’s not over.”

The room felt smaller, the weight of what he said pressing down on all of us. The enemy was already ahead of us, moving in the shadows, plotting their next move.

And we were still chasing ghosts.

Alexander’s expression didn’t change, but I knew him well enough to see the shift in his posture—the slow tension in his jaw, the way his fingers flexed at his sides.

“We leave at dusk,” he said, his voice calm but edged with steel. “If they’re moving at the border, we need to get there first.”

Garrick nodded. “I’ll gather a team.”

Tristan looked between us, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “I want to come.”

Eva raised a brow. “Not a chance.”

“I didn’t betray the pack,” Tristan argued. “And if I can help—”

Alexander cut him off. “You’re not coming.” His voice was cold. Final.

Tristan looked like he wanted to fight, but he held his tongue. Smart.

I turned to Alexander. “I’m coming with you.”

His gaze flickered to me, something unreadable in his eyes, but he didn’t argue. He knew better than to try.

“I’ll be ready,” I told him.

The night was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine as we moved through the forest. The patrol teams had been warned, but we kept our numbers small—just enough to fight if needed, not enough to draw attention.

I moved beside Alexander, my senses stretched thin, listening for anything out of place.

Eva was just ahead, her dagger already in her hand. “Anyone else feel like we’re walking into a trap?” she muttered.

“We probably are,” Garrick grunted.

The trees thinned as we approached the clearing near the eastern border. The land dipped into a ravine, where the remains of an old outpost stood—one of the abandoned watchtowers from Marion’s reign.

Something about it felt… wrong.

Alexander lifted a hand, signaling for us to stop.

Silence.

Then—

A twig snapped.

In an instant, weapons were drawn. My pulse hammered as my wolf snarled beneath my skin, ready to fight.

A figure stepped into the moonlight. Hooded. Cautious. Alone.

Alexander took a step forward, his voice low. “Who are you?”

The figure hesitated—then slowly pulled back their hood.

I inhaled sharply.

It wasn’t just any rogue.

It was someone I knew.

Someone we had all thought was dead.

The betrayal in my chest burned hotter than fire.

Because standing before us, alive and breathing—

Was someone who should have never returned.