Chapter 8 The Betrayal at Dusk

The sun bled into the horizon, casting the Blackmoor forests in hues of crimson and gold. The air thickened with unease as the Blood Moon drew near, and every wolf in the territory could feel it , a restless stir in their bones, a call to something primal and ancient.

Aria Wynn moved silently through the winding paths behind the Alpha's den, her heart pounding as though sensing danger before her mind could name it. She had meant to gather herbs for Elder Sira's old recipes , a calming draught for the restless pack members , but a strange pull lured her toward the council chamber.

It wasn't a place she was meant to be, especially alone.

Voices floated on the wind, hushed but urgent. Aria pressed herself against the rough bark of a gnarled oak, peering into the dimly lit chamber through a narrow gap in the wall.

She recognized them instantly.

Elara Varyn, regal and sharp-featured, her hair a cascade of black silk. And beside her stood Draven Corven, Alpha of the Bloodfang Pack , his presence a storm cloud ready to burst.

"I won't wait for the Blood Moon," Elara hissed. "Kade's grown reckless. Bringing that outsider here was a mistake. She's softening him."

Draven smirked, the predatory gleam in his crimson eyes making Aria's stomach turn. "Then we strike now?"

"No," Elara countered. "At dusk, tomorrow. During the Blood Rite. When all eyes are on the moon. Callen Mire has agreed to handle the final blow."

Aria's breath hitched. Callen? The rogue mercenary who'd arrived days before?

Draven nodded. "And the Council?"

"They'll fall in line once Kade's dead. Blackmoor will be mine, and with it, the power to challenge the other packs. The Moon Priestess's favor will mean nothing then."

Aria's pulse thundered in her ears. She had to warn Kade.

But as she turned to slip away, a hand clamped over her mouth, yanking her back into the shadows.

"Quiet, healer," a low voice growled.

Her panicked gaze met Callen Mire's. His silver-streaked hair framed a face both rugged and weary, his storm-gray eyes unreadable.

"Let me go," Aria hissed, struggling against his hold.

"Not yet." He dragged her deeper into the trees, away from prying eyes.

Once safely distanced from the den, he released her. Aria rounded on him, fists clenched.

"You're part of it," she spat. "You're going to kill him."

"I was hired to," Callen admitted, leaning against a boulder, arms crossed. "But you heard what you weren't meant to. That complicates things."

"You're a murderer," she snarled. "You'll betray your own kind for coin."

A shadow of something flickered in his gaze , regret? Weariness? Aria couldn't tell.

"I stopped believing in packs a long time ago, girl. But... you're not like the others. And you've got guts, spying on the council like that."

"I wasn't spying. I was trying to protect the Alpha you're plotting to kill."

Callen sighed, glancing toward the horizon where darkness thickened. "I owe no loyalty to Kade Varyn. But if what I heard is true , if Elara's staging a coup with Draven's help , that means war for every pack within a hundred miles. And war means innocents dead. I've had my fill of that."

Aria studied him. Beneath the gruff demeanor, there was a man worn down by too many battles and blood debts.

"Then help me," she said softly. "We can stop them."

A humorless chuckle escaped him. "And risk having both of us gutted before dawn?"

"I can get you out of here. Or you can stay and make things right. You don't owe Elara your soul, Callen."

For a long moment, he said nothing, jaw clenched tight. The wind carried the distant howl of a wolf. Then another.

Callen pushed off the boulder, muttering a curse. "Fine, healer. But if we do this, it's on your head. If we get caught, you'll wish you hadn't opened your mouth."

"I've already risked everything," Aria said, her voice steady. "What's one more danger?"

They crept through the darkening woods, careful to avoid patrols. Callen led her to a secluded alcove where an old, tattered tent stood. Inside, maps and scrolls were strewn across a table, markers indicating the positions of guards and possible escape routes.

"I keep this here in case I need to disappear," he explained.

"Convenient," Aria muttered.

He ignored the barb. "We'll need proof to confront Kade. He won't move on suspicion alone , especially not if it involves his sister."

"I can get it," Aria offered.

Callen raised a brow. "You?"

"Elara keeps records. Correspondence. I've seen her study in the east wing."

He grimaced. "You'd have a better chance wrestling a live bear."

"I don't care."

Callen sighed. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. Alright, we'll slip in during the feast tomorrow. Everyone will be gathered at the Blood Rite. Less eyes."

Aria exhaled a shaky breath. The plan was madness, but it was their only hope.

That night, Aria lay awake in the guest quarters of Blackmoor's den. The bond with Kade pulsed like a live wire, tugging at her heart. She should have told him the moment she'd overheard Elara. But how could she? Would he believe her over his own blood?

And Riven... his anguished confession earlier still weighed on her. He'd begged her to leave for her own safety, and now she understood why.

She couldn't abandon them. Not now.

Sleep claimed her in fits. And when it did, she dreamed of the silver-eyed priestess again, standing in a clearing beneath a crimson moon.

"The blood of the past returns. Lies buried will be unearthed. Choose your alliances well, child of Wynn."

Aria jolted awake, heart hammering.

Morning came too soon.

By dusk, the Blood Rite was underway. The entire Blackmoor pack gathered at the ceremonial clearing. A towering stone altar stood at its center, bathed in the rising blood moon's eerie glow.

Kade stood before his people, regal in dark leathers, his expression grim. The air crackled with tension.

Aria, veiled in a cloak, slipped through the crowd unnoticed, making her way to the east wing. Callen was already waiting by the entrance, a dagger at his belt.

"Ready, healer?"

"Always."

They moved like shadows.

Inside Elara's study, Aria rifled through parchments, desperate for anything damning.

"Here," Callen whispered, holding up a sealed letter stamped with Draven's insignia.

Aria's pulse quickened as she broke the seal, scanning the contents.

"At dusk, under the Blood Moon. Callen will see to the final blow. Blackmoor will fall."

It was enough.

They hurried from the chamber, slipping into the night.

But as they reached the edge of the clearing, a sharp voice cut through the darkness.

"Well, well... what have we here?"

Elara.

Flanked by two guards.

Her gaze narrowed, falling on Aria. "I should have killed you the moment you set foot in this den."

Callen drew his blade. "Don't be foolish, Elara. You won't win this."

"You should have stayed a mercenary, Mire," she sneered. "Loyalty was never your strength."

"We all pick a side eventually," he growled.

Aria stepped forward, holding the letter aloft. "The pack will see this. Your coup is over."

Elara's eyes flashed. "We'll see about that."

The next instant, chaos erupted.

And the Blood Moon began to rise.