Chapter 8 — Alpha’s Interest

Kael’s POV

Night falls thickly over Nightbane territory.

I stand at the terrace of our watch tower, holding on to the cold stone edge as another report echoes in my mind.

Another patrol.

Gone.

My jaw tightens.

This makes the fourth this week.

Fourth.

That is not coincidence neither is itbad luck. That’s a pattern—and I should have seen it sooner.

Why target Nightbane patrols so deliberately? Why take such a risk for something so… specific?

None of this makes sense.

And I don’t like what I can’t understand.

Doors open behind me.

“Alpha,” one of my captains says. “We recovered one of the patrol members.”

Alive.

I turn sharply. “Take him to the battle room.”

The warrior is barely awake when they bring him in.

There is blood stains on his side, his breathing uneven.

His eyes snap open when he spots me.

Fear.

Not of me.

Of something else.

I step closer.

“What happened?”

His lips part to say something, but nothing comes out at first. Then, hoarsely—

“She… she was waiting.”

My eyes narrow slightly.

“Waiting?”

He nods weakly. “Like she knew we’d be there.”

Of course she did.

“How many did we lose?”

“Three,” he whispers. “Gone before we could even react.”

My jaw flexes.

“And you?”

A pause.

He looks to the guards behind him.

Then back to me.

Something shifts.

“Leave us,” I say.

The room becomes quiet.

The captain hesitates for a moment before motioning everyone out.

The doors close.

Silence.

Now it’s just us two.

I take a step closer.

“Speak.”

The warrior swallows hard.

“She said something.”

That stills me completely.

“What did she say?” I ask.

His voice goes quiet, like he’s afraid someone will hear.

“She said… “To tell our Alpha– you to stop hunting girls who can’t defend themselves.”

The words land hard.

I say nothing for a moment.

Because that doesn’t make sense.

It shouldn’t make sense.

“We don’t hunt our own,” I say flatly.

The warriors expression tightens with uncertainty.

“Alpha… I didn’t know either,” he says quietly. “But this wasn’t our usual patrol.”

A slow, dangerous stillness settles over me.

“Explain.”

Another hesitation.

Then—

“We were given separate orders,” he says. “Not through the usual chain. We were told to track… specific scents. Young females. Unmarked. Some barely trained.”

Each word sharpens something inside my chest.

“That’s not Nightbane protocol,” I say, my voice colder now.

“I know,” he says quickly. “Bit i thought it came from...higher command that’s why I didn’t question it at first.

Silence.

Heavy.

Controlled.

Higher command

“Who gave the order?” I ask.

He hesitates.

That hesitation tells me more than the answer ever could.

“We never saw him directly,” he says. “Orders were passed down. Quietly. Through ranks that don’t usually… overlap.”

My expression doesn’t change.

But something inside me does.

Because I already know what that means.

There’s only one chain of command in this territory that moves like that—unchecked, unquestioned, and deliberately hidden beneath mine.

A system that existed long before I took control.

A system I was told had been dismantled.

My jaw tightens.

It wasn’t.

Of course it wasn’t.

“Alpha…?” the warrior says carefully.

I ignore him.

Because if I acknowledge it....if I say it out loud then it becomes real.

And I’m not ready for that.

Not yet.

“When did these orders start?” I ask instead.

“A few weeks ago,” he says. “Small groups. No records. No patterns anyone could trace.”

Hidden.

Deliberate.

Careful.

Familiar.

My fingers curl slowly into a fist.

Someone is moving inside my pack without my knowledge.

Using my wolves.

My name.

My authority.

A slow breath leaves me.

I was wrong.

Whatever I was told ended didn’t.

I remember the conversations.

The assurances.

The way it all supposedly ended after she disappeared.

Lies. All lies.

And I believed them.

That’s on me.

“Get treated,” I say finally, stepping back.

He hesitates. “Alpha… if she comes again—”

“She will,” I cut in.

Because now I understand something I didn’t before.

This isn’t over.

It hasn’t even begun.