Five: Moonlit Betrayal

Mara’s POV

The whisper from the corridor still clawed at my skull long after dawn broke.

By daylight, it could have been a dream, just the wind sliding through cracked stone.

But my wolf remembered. She never forgot a threat.

All day, the packhouse pressed in on me like a mouth full of teeth. Servants moved in tight-lipped silence, their eyes cutting sideways whenever I passed.

Every scent carried tension, fear, suspicion, the sour tang of curiosity. I had lived among killers before, but Bloodfang’s silence was sharper than any blade.

By evening, I was certain: someone was watching.

The feeling followed me from the kitchens to the storeroom and down every narrow hall. Once, a tray clattered behind me, but when I turned, no one stood there, only a candle guttering in its holder.

You’re being hunted, my wolf warned. Again.

I forced my breathing even, pretending calm as I crossed the servants’ corridor. The torches burned low, painting the stones in trembling gold.

My fingers brushed the hidden knife tucked into my boot, not much against a pack of wolves, but enough to make me feel less exposed.

Then a voice slipped from the darkness.

“Mara.”

I spun, knife flashing, but the figure leaning against the wall didn’t move. A hood shadowed their face; only the faint curve of a smirk showed in the light.

“Who are you?” I demanded.

“A friend,” they whispered. “Or at least, not your enemy.”

“That’s the same thing liars say before they slit your throat.”

A quiet chuckle. “If I wanted you dead, rogue, you’d already be bleeding.”

My wolf bristled. “Speak before I prove you wrong.”

The stranger tilted their head, voice dropping to a rasp. “There are eyes in these walls, Council eyes. Spies hiding among Bloodfang’s own. They know what you are.”

My grip tightened. “And what exactly do they think I am?”

“The last Silverfang,” the voice murmured. “And the Alpha’s curse.”

For a heartbeat, everything inside me went still. The Silverfang name was Ash; it wasn’t supposed to exist. Whoever this was, they knew too much.

“What do you want from me?”

“Survive the week.” The figure stepped back into the shadows. “When the Blood Moon rises, they’ll come for him… through you.”

“Wait..” I lunged forward, but the hall was empty. Only the echo of boots faded into silence.

My wolf prowled beneath my skin, furious. A trap.

“Maybe,” I whispered, “but it’s one I’ll spring on my own terms.”

That night, the moon climbed fat and low over the fortress.

Sleep wouldn’t come. Each breath carried the taste of iron and storm.

I slipped from my narrow bed, trading the servant’s linen for darker clothes, cloth that blended into shadow.

No one noticed as I moved through the corridors; wolves believed rogues made noise, but I had learned long ago how to vanish.

The east tower rose above the rest of the packhouse, old stone slick with moss. If there were spies or secrets, that was where they would hide them, the Council always preferred altitude for their watching eyes.

The stairs spiraled upward, steep and silent. I counted every step, every creak of old mortar. My wolf’s senses stretched ahead, sniffing for danger.

Nothing but the faint heartbeat of someone sleeping two floors below.

When I reached the final landing, moonlight poured through the open arches, cold and silver. The night smelled of pine, smoke, and…

Him.

“Planning another escape?”

I froze. Ronald stepped from the shadows as though he’d been carved from them, arms folded, eyes burning gold. The wind toyed with his dark hair, but his expression was unreadable.

“Should I be?” I asked.

“That depends.” He prowled closer, each step measured. “Tell me why you’re here.”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Try again.”

His tone was smooth, dangerous. My wolf stirred, caught between fury and something hotter. “Maybe I came to see what kind of monster guards his pack at night.”

He stopped a breath away, the moonlight cutting across the scars on his jaw. “You really don’t fear me, do you?”

“I’ve met worse.”

His eyes flicked over my face, searching for weakness and finding none. “You shouldn’t be wandering alone. There are things in these halls even I can’t control.”

“Then maybe you should learn to.”

For a heartbeat, silence stretched, thick as smoke. His wolf brushed against mine, an invisible spark that made the air vibrate. My pulse betrayed me, quick and uneven.

“Go back to your room, Mara,” he said finally, voice low. “Whatever you’re looking for up here, you won’t find it.”

“I already have.”

His brow furrowed. “What’s that?”

“The truth. You’re afraid.”

He laughed once, soft and humorless. “Afraid of you?”

“No.” I took a step closer until our breath mingled. “Of what you feel when you look at me.”

The amusement vanished from his face. For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. The bond thrummed like a live wire between us, wild and alive.

My wolf pushed forward, whispering mate until the word burned behind my eyes.

Then everything changed.

A new scent sliced through the air, metal and intent.

Ronald’s head snapped toward the stairwell. My wolf snarled, already moving. I caught the faint hiss of steel cutting air.

“Ronald…”

He spun toward me, eyes blazing.

“Stay back!” he barked, the command cracking through the night.

A flash of silver cut across the moonlight.

For the briefest second, the world slowed, the shimmer of the blade, the surge of wind, the pulse of the bond screaming warning through my blood.

And then instinct took over. I dove aside, dragging air into my lungs as the weapon sliced past.

A blade glinted in the moonlight and this time, it wasn’t aimed at the Alpha.