The council meeting is tense from the moment it begins.
Eight alphas, their betas, and our core team are packed into the war room.
The Crimson Moon banner lies spread across the table like an accusation, its bloody words impossible to ignore: We didn't take your son. But we know who did.
“This is a trick,” Roderic says, Alpha of Silverpine—one of our steadier allies.
“Crimson Moon wants us paranoid. Divided.”
“Maybe,” I answer, keeping my voice even.
“Or maybe they’re telling the truth.”
The room erupts.
“You think someone on *our* side took him?”
Lydia from Stonecrest snaps, bristling.
“I think we’d be fools to dismiss it outright,” I say.
“The k********g was too clean, too professional. Whoever took Alaric knew exactly when to strike and where our defenses were thinnest.”
