Chapter 2 — Blood on the Border

~ Damien POV ~

"Tell me he's still breathing," I demanded.

Garrett lay flat on the pine needles, crimson pooling beneath his chest. Eleven more warriors from our dawn patrol lay scattered across the clearing, their shields knocked aside into the brush.

"He took three claws to the throat, Alpha," Vance said, stepping over a fallen pine branch. "He died before we reached the creek."

I dropped to one knee beside Garrett. He had trained me since I was seven years old, teaching me how to track rogues and lead an army. Now his eyes stared blankly at the gray morning clouds.

I reached down and closed his eyelids with two fingers. "Who did this?"

"Bloodcrest," Vance answered, his tone bitter with anger. "Their strike team knew our exact patrol schedule. They knew Garrett's squad crossed the ridge at dawn. They waited behind the eastern boulders and ambushed them in the fog."

I stood up, clenching both hands into tight fists. "Our patrol routes change every week. Nobody outside the command circle has access to those schedules."

"Then someone sold us out," Vance said, glaring at me. "Twelve warriors slaughtered on your watch, Damien. You've been Alpha for six months, and our borders are bleeding."

"Watch your mouth, Vance," I warned him, stepping toward the elder. "I'm still your Alpha."

"Then act like one," Vance snapped back. "Find the rat who gave Bloodcrest our defense routes before they come for the pack house next."

My mother walked into the clearing, flanked by two armed guards. She looked at Garrett's body, her face pale, before turning her gaze to me.

"We found the leak, Damien," Victoria said.

I turned toward her. "What are you talking about?"

"Security intercepted an unauthorized dispatch log from the records vault," Victoria said, holding out a parchment ledger. "Someone copied our eastern guard rotations last night and passed them through the southern fence. A Bloodcrest courier was captured an hour ago carrying the route map."

My stomach dropped. "That dispatch requires vault keys."

"The vault was opened after midnight," Victoria replied, handing me the parchment. "Signed out under the archive seal. Celine Brooks had custody of that seal."

I stared at the name written in dark ink.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "That's impossible. I was down in the basement archives last night. I spoke with her myself."

"And while you were busy talking to her, she copied our patrol routes," Vance snarled, stepping closer. "Or did you give her permission to open the war records, Alpha?"

"Hold your tongue, Vance," I growled, glaring at him until the older man backed away.

My wolf thrashed inside my chest, clawing at my ribs in open defiance. She's our mate. She wouldn't betray us.

I looked back at my mother. "Celine is an unranked clerk. Her family served this pack for three generations. She doesn't have ties to Bloodcrest. This makes no sense."

"Look at the bottom of the manifest, Damien," Victoria said, her voice quiet. "The courier carried Bloodcrest gold coins and a signed agreement promising safe passage north. The signature matches the handwriting on her archive ledgers."

I looked down at the parchment. The signature was neat, precise, and identical to the handwriting on the requisition log from last night.

Doubt crept into my mind.

Last night flashed before my eyes. Her hands over the boundary deed. Her warnings about the council. The way she challenged me, keeping my focus locked on her while the minutes slipped away.

Was that real? Or was she stalling me while the dispatch left the archives?

She's your mate, my wolf screamed. Don't do this.

"The council is already gathering in the Grand Hall," Victoria said softly. "If you don't secure her, the elders will claim you're protecting a traitor because of your own carelessness."

"Nobody touches her until I speak with her," I said.

I turned away from the clearing, my chest tight. Every step back toward the pack house felt like dragging an anchor through dirt. Grief for Garrett twisted with the fury burning in my veins. If Celine was innocent, I would prove it and tear Vance apart for the accusation. But if she had played me, if she had looked into my eyes, shared that kiss, and used the mate bond to slaughter twelve of my men, I would break her myself.

I entered the pack house through the side doors, ignoring the whispers of the warriors stationed along the corridor. News of the border massacre had spread fast.

Anger hung in every doorway.

"Alpha Damien," Captain Caleb called out, hurrying down the hallway to meet me. "The perimeter guards are asking for orders. Should we lock down the lower levels?"

"Keep the gates closed," I answered without slowing down. "Double the watch at the eastern river. Nobody enters or leaves the territory without my direct authorization."

"Understood," Caleb replied, stepping aside.

I climbed the central stairwell to the third floor of the archive wing. Two enforcers stood guard outside Celine's bedroom door, rifles ready across their chests.

"Has anyone gone inside?" I asked.

"No, Alpha," the lead enforcer answered.

"She's been inside since the morning alarm sounded."

"Open it," I commanded.

The guard turned the bronze knob and pushed the door inward.

I stepped inside.

Celine stood near the window, her coat pulled over her shoulders. When she saw me, the tension in her posture vanished, replaced by visible relief.

"Damien," she breathed, taking two quick steps toward me. "The sirens went off across the territory. I tried to reach the command post, but guards blocked the hallway. What happened?"

"Stay right where you are," I said, shutting the door firmly behind me.

She stopped in her tracks, her hands dropping to her sides. "Damien? What's wrong? You're covered in dirt."

"Twelve of our warriors were ambushed at dawn," I told her, keeping my voice level. "Garrett is dead."

Celine pressed both hands against her mouth, her eyes widening in shock. "Garrett? Your mentor? Oh no... Damien, I'm so sorry—"

"Save your sympathy," I interrupted, walking toward the desk. "Where did you put the rest of the Bloodcrest documents?"

She lowered her hands slowly, her brows drawing together in confusion. "What documents? What are you talking about?"

"A Bloodcrest courier was caught at the southern perimeter an hour ago," I said, flipping through papers on her desk. "He carried our eastern patrol routes. The exact routes copied from the vault ledger you signed last night."

"What?" she gasped, stepping around the desk to face me. "Damien, that's impossible! I didn't copy any patrol routes! I cataloged territory deeds until past midnight!"

"The vault was unlocked under your archive seal," I said. "Your signature is on the manifest."

"Then someone took my seal!" Celine said, her voice rising with anger.

"Someone broke into my desk after I left! You were there, Damien! You saw me put the ledgers away!"

"I saw you argue with me for twenty minutes," I replied, turning toward her. "I saw you keep my attention in that basement while someone moved through the upper halls."

"You think I planned that?" she asked, her voice shaking with indignation. "You came to the archives unannounced! How could I have planned your arrival, Damien? Use your head!"

Her words struck a nerve, but the image of Garrett's body flashed across my mind.

"You knew the boundary dispute was brewing. You knew I'd need that deed."

I leaned down and pulled open the bottom cabinet of her desk. Inside sat a stack of dark folders.

"Don't touch those," Celine warned, stepping forward. "Those are my father's personal records."

I pulled out the top folder anyway. As I lifted the cardboard cover, a small velvet pouch slipped out from between the yellowed pages and dropped onto the floorboards.

A handful of solid gold coins spilled across the rug, each stamped with the Bloodcrest serpent crest.

The room fell dead silent.

Celine stared down at the gold coins, color draining from her face. "That... that wasn't there. I swear to you, Damien, I haven't opened that box in months."

"Bloodcrest gold," I said, picking up one of the coins. "Hidden inside your father's files where you thought nobody would search."

"It's a setup!" Celine shouted, grabbing my arm. "Look at it! It's too obvious! Why would I leave enemy gold sitting in an unlocked desk drawer after an attack?"

"Because you didn't expect the courier to get caught before sunrise," I snarled, shaking her hand off my sleeve.

"Look at me, Damien!" she demanded, stepping in front of me, refusing to back down. Her eyes burned with fierce defiance. "You felt the bond last night. You felt my wolf answer yours. You know who I am, and you know I'm not a murderer!"

Her words hit me hard. My wolf surged forward, howling in agreement, begging me to pull her close, to believe her, to protect her from the brewing storm.

She didn't do this, my wolf growled within my blood.

I stared into her eyes. I wanted to believe her. I wanted nothing more than to stand between Celine and the entire pack.

Then I heard angry shouts rising from the courtyard below. Hundreds of pack members were gathering, demanding justice for twelve dead warriors. Vance was down there, stirring the fire. If I showed weakness now, the pack would rebel. They would strip my title, and they would tear Celine apart without a trial.

The only way to keep her alive was to control the tribunal myself.

I hardened my expression, burying the pain deep below the surface.

"The bond doesn't erase evidence, Celine," I said, my voice cold.

"Damien, please," she said, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "Don't let them do this."

"You're going to stand before the pack," I told her.

I reached out and gripped her wrist, turning her toward the door.

She pulled against my grip, her chin lifted. "You're making a mistake you can't take back, Alpha."

"We'll find out at the trial," I said.

I pushed open the door and stepped out into the hallway, pulling her along beside me.

The two guards snapped to attention.

Down at the end of the corridor, Elder Vance and my mother stood waiting, their eyes locked on Celine's gripped wrist.

"Alpha?" the lead guard asked, stepping forward. "What are your orders?"

"Sound the grand assembly bells," I commanded, my voice echoing down the corridor. "Gather every elder, warrior, and pack member in the Grand Hall immediately."

Celine didn't plead. She walked beside me with her chin lifted, though her pulse raced beneath my fingers.

I looked at Vance, letting my gaze promise retribution if I found his fingerprints on this setup.

"Bring the iron chains," I commanded the guards. "We're holding a public tribunal for treason.”