Chapter 14

The Traitor’s Mask

The war room was a cauldron of tension, its air thick with the scent of sweat, blood, and betrayal. Aria stood in the shadows, Rollan cradled in her arms, his faint whimpers a stark contrast to the fury radiating from Caden. The Alpha stood at the center of the room, his icy blue eyes locked on Marcus, the council member now bound and kneeling before him. The other council members stood in a grim semicircle, their faces a mix of shock and suspicion. Kael leaned against the wall, his chest wound bandaged but his gaze sharp, watching every move like a hawk.

Marcus, once a trusted advisor with a silver tongue and a polished demeanor, looked diminished in chains. His gray hair was disheveled, his eyes darting nervously, but a defiant smirk lingered on his lips. “You’ve got no proof, Alpha,” he said, his voice steady despite the bruises blooming on his face. “This is a mistake.”

Caden’s fist slammed onto the table, the crack echoing like thunder. “A mistake?” he growled, holding up Victor’s crumpled note. “This was found in your quarters, Marcus. Your handwriting, your scent. You’ve been feeding Victor Hale our movements, our plans—my son’s location.”

Aria’s heart lurched. Marcus had been the one to warn her about Victor at the dinner, his words dripping with false concern. Had it all been a ploy to gain her trust, to draw her out? She clutched Rollan tighter, the glowing mark on his arm pulsing faintly, a reminder of the prophecy that made him a target.

Marcus’s smirk faltered, but he lifted his chin. “You’re grasping, Caden. I’ve served this pack for decades. Why would I betray you?”

“Because Victor promised you power,” Caden said, his voice low and lethal. “He offered you a place at his side when he takes Darkfang Crest. Didn’t he?”

The room fell silent, the council members exchanging uneasy glances. Marcus’s eyes flickered to Aria, and for a moment, she saw a flash of something—guilt, perhaps, or fear. “You’re listening to her?” he spat, nodding toward Aria. “The cursed woman who stole your wolf? She’s the real traitor, Alpha. Her and her rogue brother.”

Aria’s breath caught, her body tensing as all eyes turned to her. Caden stepped between her and Marcus, his presence a shield. “Don’t deflect,” he snarled. “Aria’s secrets are mine to deal with. You, on the other hand, have been caught with blood on your hands.”

Kael stepped forward, his voice tight with pain but steady. “We found a ledger in your quarters, Marcus. Payments from Victor’s rogues, coded messages about the safehouse, about Rollan. You led them to the cottage.”

Marcus’s defiance cracked, his shoulders slumping. “You don’t understand,” he muttered. “Victor’s unstoppable. He’s got plans you can’t imagine. The boy’s mark—it’s the key to everything. I was protecting the pack by aligning with the stronger side.”

Caden’s blade was at Marcus’s throat in an instant, the steel glinting in the torchlight. “You betrayed my son for power,” he said, his voice a deadly whisper. “You’re no better than a rogue yourself.”

Aria’s heart pounded. She wanted Marcus to pay, but his words about Rollan’s mark chilled her. What did Victor know that she didn’t? She stepped forward, her voice trembling but firm. “What does Victor want with the mark? Tell us, or I’ll let Caden finish this.”

Marcus’s eyes darted to her, a bitter laugh escaping him. “The prophecy, Luna. It’s not just about breaking your curse. The mark can amplify a wolf’s power—or destroy it. Victor wants to use the boy to control every pack in the region. And he’s closer than you think.”

Caden pressed the blade harder, a thin line of blood trickling down Marcus’s neck. “Where is he?”

Marcus’s smirk returned, weak but defiant. “Dawn. The old oak. He’ll be waiting.”

Caden’s eyes flicked to Aria, a silent command passing between them. “Take him to the cells,” he ordered the guards. “He lives until we confirm his story. Then he dies.”

As Marcus was dragged away, Aria’s legs trembled, the weight of Victor’s deadline crushing her. Dawn was hours away, and the old oak was a sacred site, neutral ground where packs once forged alliances. Victor’s choice of location was no accident—he was taunting them, daring them to face him.

Caden turned to her, his expression unreadable. “You and Rollan stay here. I’ll deal with Victor.”

“No,” Aria said, her voice firm despite her fear. “He’s my brother. I know how he thinks. I’m coming with you.”

Caden’s eyes narrowed, but something in her resolve softened his gaze. “You’re not a warrior, Aria. And I won’t risk my son.”

“He’s *our* son,” she countered, stepping closer. “And I’ve been running from Victor my whole life. I won’t let him take Rollan. Let me help you end this.”

Kael cleared his throat, his voice hoarse. “She’s right, Alpha. Victor’s cunning. Aria knows his weaknesses. We need her.”

Caden’s gaze flickered between them, a storm of emotions raging behind his eyes. Finally, he nodded. “Fine. But you stay behind me. And if anything happens to Rollan, I’ll never forgive you.”

Aria swallowed the sting of his words, nodding. “I understand.”

As they prepared to leave, Kael pulled Aria aside, his voice low. “If Victor’s at the old oak, it’s a trap. He’s not alone. Be ready for anything.”

She met his gaze, seeing the conflict in his eyes—loyalty to Caden, care for her, and the weight of his own wounds. “Thank you, Kael,” she whispered. “For everything.”

He nodded, but his expression was grim. “Don’t thank me yet. This fight’s not over.”

With Rollan in her arms and Caden at her side, Aria stepped into the night, the old oak waiting like a guillotine. Victor was close, the traitor unmasked, but the prophecy’s shadow loomed larger than ever. The battle for Rollan—and for Caden’s trust—was about to begin.