Chapter 87:
Her words were true, but that didn’t make them any easier to swallow. If someone was betraying us, they’d know to hide their tracks, to remain invisible among the pack. Finding them would be like chasing shadows.
“Thank you for telling me,” I said, gripping her shoulder in gratitude.
“Let’s keep this quiet. We don’t need panic spreading. I’ll start looking into it personally.”
She nodded, her expression relieved.
“I’ll keep my ears open, too. If I hear anything, I’ll let you know immediately.”
As she left, I closed the door, sinking onto a chair as the weight of this new threat settled over me. Betrayal was more insidious than any enemy from the outside; it could destroy us from within, rot the pack to its core before we even saw Silas on our borders.
I didn’t sleep for the rest of the night, my mind churning over every interaction, every wolf who might have reason to turn against us. I considered those who had voiced doubts about my leadership in the past, those who might see an advantage in aligning with Silas instead of me. But every time I considered a name, a face, I forced myself to think it through rationally. This was no time for impulsive accusations.
The next morning, I moved through the compound, watching the pack go about their routines, searching for any sign of unusual behavior. It was subtle, but I began to notice it: wolves who normally gathered in groups were quieter, more wary of each other. Conversations stopped when I drew near, eyes darting away as though guilty of some unspoken crime. It was a ripple of unease, a sign that the rumors were spreading faster than I’d feared.
I called a council meeting that evening, bringing together a few trusted wolves: Celia, Elder Osric, and Dante. I knew that if anyone could help me navigate this treacherous path, it was them.
Once we were seated in the war room, I explained the situation, watching their faces as I spoke. Osric’s expression was grim, and Celia’s worry had only deepened. Dante listened in silence, his gaze darkening as he took in the weight of the threat.
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“This is exactly what Silas wants,” Dante said quietly, his voice laced with anger.
“He doesn’t need to fight us if he can make us doubt each other. A divided pack is already a defeated pack.”
I nodded, frustration tightening my throat.
“But we can’t ignore it. If there’s even a hint of truth in these rumors, we need to find out who’s responsible. I won’t let a traitor undermine everything we’ve built.”
Osric spoke up, his tone thoughtful.
“Perhaps a direct approach isn’t what’s needed here. If we look too hard, we may drive them further into hiding. Sometimes, patience can reveal what haste would bury.”
Celia agreed, her voice steady.
“If we remain vigilant and let them believe their actions are unnoticed, they might slip up. Desperation leads to mistakes.”
Dante nodded, but I could see the tension in his posture, the same frustration I felt.
“I understand the need for patience, but if Silas is planning an attack soon, we don’t have time to wait for a traitor to reveal themselves. We need every wolf united and prepared.”
I considered their words, torn between the need for caution and the urgency of the looming threat. Both approaches had their risks, and both felt inadequate in the face of the unknown.
“What if we try a combination of both?” I said, the idea forming as I spoke.
“We keep an eye on the wolves who seem withdrawn, but we don’t accuse anyone directly. Meanwhile, I can speak with some of the more trusted pack members—those who have influence—to help quash the rumors and reassure the pack.”
Osric nodded approvingly.
“A wise approach. Reassurance is a powerful antidote to fear.”
Dante’s gaze met mine, and he nodded as well, though I could see the lingering frustration in his eyes.
