Chapter 89: Wolves Among Us

Mariana’s POV

I found Alexander in the war room, hunched over maps and scrolls, the flicker of candlelight painting his face in gold and shadow. He didn’t look up as I entered—he didn’t need to.

“I saw Garrick,” I said, not bothering with preamble. “Something’s wrong.”

That got his attention. He straightened, sharp eyes narrowing. “What did he say?”

“Nothing. That’s the problem. He was vague. Too composed. He mentioned he was ‘checking on something’ but wouldn’t say what.” I paused. “It felt like a threat, Alexander. Not a report.”

He exhaled through his nose, a growl simmering beneath the surface.

“Eva was right to question him,” I added. “There’s something off.”

Alexander’s jaw flexed. “He was one of Marion’s advisors. We kept him on because he had the pack’s trust. But maybe that was a mistake.”

I crossed the room slowly, my voice softer. “It wasn’t wrong to believe in second chances. But we have to be smart now. Someone’s trying to stir unrest from within, and if Garrick’s playing both sides—”

“—Then we root him out,” Alexander finished, voice like steel.

He turned back to the map and pointed to three dots near the eastern woods. “I doubled the patrols after Eva left. If they’re planning something, they’ll move soon. We’re most vulnerable at the borders and in here—among ourselves.”

I stared at the map. “We need eyes on Garrick. Discreet ones. Someone he won’t suspect.”

Alexander nodded. “I’ll send Thorne.”

As I turned to leave, his voice stopped me. “Mariana.”

I looked back.

“Thank you. For not brushing it off.”

The sincerity in his voice caught me off guard.

“We’re in this together,” I said. “Always.”

By the next morning, Eva returned, dust coating her cloak and fury etched into her every movement.

“There’s a camp,” she told us grimly. “South of the ridge. Half a dozen wolves—organized, trained, and quiet. They scattered when we got close. But they’re watching us.”

“Any signs of who they’re working with?” Alexander asked.

She hesitated. “They bore no insignia. But one of them wore silver on his left hand—engraved with Marion’s crest.”

It felt like a knife to the gut.

“They’re not just loyalists,” Eva said. “They’re planning something. Coordinated. Silent. And they’ve been doing it for longer than we thought.”

Alexander’s fists curled at his sides. “And Garrick?”

“He knew.”

Silence. Heavy and damning.

“Then we’re out of time,” I whispered.

Alexander turned toward the door, his voice a growl. “Get the council together. Tonight.”

“But—”

“No more whispers,” he snapped. “If there’s a traitor among us, I want him to see our eyes when we say it aloud. No more hiding in shadows.”

The hunt had begun.

Not beyond our walls—but within them.

Among wolves we once called allies.

The council chamber felt colder that night. The flames in the sconces flickered as if disturbed by something unseen—something creeping through the room like a second presence.

The council sat in a tight half-circle, their expressions tense. Garrick was already there, seated with his usual poise, hands folded, expression unreadable.

Alexander stood at the head of the room, his presence filling the space like a storm cloud just waiting to break. I stood beside him, spine straight, fingers clenched at my sides. Eva lingered in the shadows behind the last column, her gaze never leaving Garrick.

No one spoke at first.

Then Alexander did.

“We found a camp,” he said evenly, his voice carrying through the room like thunder rolling across open skies. “South of the ridge. Wolves in hiding. Trained. Organized. Wearing remnants of Marion’s colors.”

A murmur rose, some council members shifting uneasily. Others looked at Garrick.

“Loyalists?” one elder asked.

Alexander didn’t answer. He just looked at Garrick.

Garrick’s eyes met his. “You think I knew about this?” he asked, tone calm, almost amused. “That I’ve somehow hidden an entire outpost of rogue wolves without anyone noticing?”

Alexander’s voice was quiet—but lethal. “Did you?”

“I serve this pack,” Garrick replied coolly. “Even if you don’t always trust how I do it.”

Eva stepped forward from the shadows. “Our scouts saw someone at the camp. Silver ring, left hand. Marion’s crest. The same ring you were wearing the night of the last full moon.”

The air cracked.

Garrick looked at her, then at Alexander, then at me. “So we’re accusing people based on jewelry now?”

“It’s not the ring,” I said, stepping forward. “It’s the pattern. You disappeared during the last council meeting—the same time the patrol near the border was drawn away from its post. You’ve been questioning Alexander’s authority quietly, subtly, and now, suddenly, there’s a loyalist camp with someone matching your description?”

Garrick rose to his feet slowly. “Careful, Luna. These are dangerous accusations.”

“So is betrayal,” I said, voice unwavering.

He looked at me then—not with disdain, not with fury—but with something colder. A flicker of disappointment.

“I never betrayed this pack,” he said. “But maybe I did betray myself—thinking we could survive under a boy who spilled blood to wear a crown.”

Gasps.

Alexander’s growl rumbled through the chamber. “That ‘boy’ brought us through war. He ended Marion’s reign. And you—” he took a step forward, “—have just proven where your loyalty truly lies.”

“Loyalty?” Garrick sneered. “To what? A fractured council? A people who don’t know what they want anymore?”

Alexander raised a hand—and warriors stepped into the chamber, flanking Garrick on both sides.

“You’re done,” Alexander said. “As councilman. As anything.”

But Garrick didn’t resist. He smiled. A slow, almost pitying smile.

“You can cast me out,” he said. “But you can’t stop what’s coming.”

“What is coming?” I asked, voice low.

He looked at me with something that almost resembled sorrow. “You think the pack is yours now? That they’ve forgotten Marion? Forgotten what strength looked like?”

He stepped forward, ignoring the warriors tightening around him.

“Look closer, Mariana,” he said. “The wolves among you aren’t hiding in forests. They’re sleeping in your walls.”

Then he turned to Alexander.

“You haven’t seen the worst of them yet.”

They dragged him out in chains.

But even as the doors slammed shut behind him, the echo of his words remained.

We hadn’t just unearthed a traitor.

We’d uncovered a nest.