Whispers of Treachery

The air in Blackwood carried the scent of blood long after Cassian’s body had been buried beneath the earth. Even the rain could not wash it away. It clung to the trees, to the soil, to the breath of the pack as though the land itself had tasted violence and was reluctant to let it go.

Days had passed, yet the forest still felt unsettled—wolves restless, hackles raised, ears pricked to every distant rustle as if they expected the dead Alpha’s ghost to stalk the border.

Lena felt it in her bones. Every step she took through the village drew eyes—some wary, some reverent, some burning with something darker. She had stood beside Kade in the Trial. She had seen his claws rip into Cassian. She had felt the collective pull of the bond that tethered her not just to him, but to the pack itself.

And now she bore the weight of it.

Whispers slithered like smoke through every firelit circle.

“She’s human. She doesn’t belong.”

“The bond changes her. Didn’t you see her eyes in the moonlight?”

“If the Council learns the Alpha mated a human—”

The last one always ended in silence, as though even speaking the thought too loud might summon punishment from beyond the border.

Lena walked with her shoulders squared, but inside her wolf prowled in uneasy circles. She could smell the unease, the suspicion, but also the hunger in some of them. Hunger for change. Hunger for blood.

It wasn’t until she entered the healer’s tent that she allowed herself to exhale. The thick scent of herbs and smoke was grounding, reminding her of hands that stitched wounds and not only tore them open.

Kade sat on a wooden bench, stripped to the waist, his skin still bandaged from the fight. The sight of him made her throat tighten. His body carried the marks of victory: claw gashes, bruises that painted his ribs in violent colors, a stiffness in his shoulder that no amount of stubbornness could hide. Yet his gaze burned with the same unshakable dominance.

“You’re walking through them again,” he said without looking up as the healer unwound the bloodied linen from his arm. “Let them look. Let them whisper. They’ll learn soon enough.”

“They’re afraid,” Lena murmured, stepping closer. “Not just of Cassian’s allies coming for us. They’re afraid of me.”

Finally, his gaze lifted to hers, molten gold cutting through the dimness. “Good. Fear binds faster than loyalty. But they’ll see you’re more than human soon enough.”

Her lips parted, a protest trembling on her tongue. But before she could speak, a sound carried in from beyond the tent. Not a howl. Not the familiar rhythm of pack life.

A horn.

It cut through the forest like the call of a predator. A signal not of mourning or victory, but of warning.

The healer froze. Kade’s muscles went taut. Lena’s pulse thundered.

“They’re here,” Kade growled.

“Who?” she whispered.

“The ones who were waiting for Cassian’s fall.”

He stood, ignoring the protest of his wounds, every inch the Alpha once more. “Rival packs. Carrion eaters. They smell weakness, and they’ve come to circle.”

By nightfall, the Blackwood courtyard brimmed with tension. Wolves lined the outer edges, hackles raised, growls rumbling like thunder beneath the skin of the night. Torches flickered against stone, casting long shadows across the walls.

The visitors stood in the center: emissaries cloaked in the colors of distant packs, their expressions carefully veiled, eyes sharp and calculating.

Lena recognized none of them, but she felt their scrutiny like knives. Each look said the same thing: What are you doing here, human? What are you to him?

One stepped forward, a tall man with silver threaded through his dark hair, his presence radiating Alpha even without the shift. His voice carried with the sharpness of steel.

“We heard Cassian fell. We heard his blood stained your soil. We come not to mourn him—he was never a brother to us—but to question what rises in his place.” His eyes flicked to Lena, deliberate, cold. “A Blackwood Alpha who takes a human mate. What does the Council say of that?”

The courtyard seemed to still, the silence like a blade held at the throat.

Kade’s snarl broke it, low and lethal. “The Council doesn’t rule Blackwood. I do.”

The emissary’s lips curved, not quite a smile. “So you say. But whispers carry far. And whispers reach the Council’s ears faster than blood can dry. Be careful, Wilder. Power claimed by blood is fragile. Power claimed against tradition…” His gaze cut to Lena again. “…is dangerous.”

Every instinct in Lena screamed to look away, to lower her head. But she forced herself to stand taller, meeting his gaze until her wolf stirred beneath her skin, lending her a spark of fire.

“I didn’t ask for this bond,” she said, her voice clear enough to carry. “But the moon chose it. And if you think the Council can undo what fate has marked, then you’ve forgotten how the old laws were written.”

Gasps rippled through the pack. The emissary’s eyes narrowed. Kade’s pride was a sharp, fierce thing radiating beside her, even as tension coiled tighter around the night.

The first whispers of treachery had come. And Lena knew they were only the beginning.

The silence after Lena’s words was sharp enough to wound. Even the torches seemed to burn quieter, the crackle of fire swallowed by the collective shock of a pack and the strangers daring to trespass their soil.

Then came the laughter. Low, bitter, and amused.

It spilled from the lips of another emissary—this one younger, his sharp features shadowed beneath the hood of his cloak. “A human speaks of the old laws as though she knows them. Tell me, Wilder… has she even read the Codex of Blood? Does she know what happens when an Alpha breaks the order of mates?”

Lena’s stomach twisted. Codex of Blood. She hadn’t heard the name before, but the words alone carried weight like an executioner’s blade.

Kade stepped forward, his body angling to shield her, every line of his frame taut with violence. “Careful, pup. You’ve wandered far into my den, and your tongue sharpens too quickly.”

But the emissary didn’t flinch. His eyes gleamed with a daring hunger. “I speak only what the Council will demand. They’ll want proof. Proof that she’s not just your weakness in human skin. Proof that Blackwood hasn’t fallen to folly. And when they don’t see it…” His voice softened into a taunt. “…they’ll call for her blood.”

A growl erupted from the pack, dozens of throats vibrating in rage. Wolves pressed forward, teeth bared, hackles raised. The air thickened with the taste of imminent violence.

Lena’s pulse pounded, but her wolf snarled inside her, pushing against her ribs, aching to show them she was not prey. For the first time, she didn’t fight it.

“I am not his weakness,” she said, her voice carrying above the rumble of growls. “I am his bond. And if the Council dares to touch me, they’ll find out what strength that gives.”

The pack roared, the sound shaking the courtyard.

The older emissary lifted a hand, silencing his companion with a look, though not without a flicker of unease crossing his features. “Bold words, girl. Dangerous ones. But perhaps boldness is what your kind thrives on. We will take your answer back to the Council. They’ll decide if Blackwood still stands as ally… or if you’ve declared yourself enemy by your Alpha’s choices.”

His words carried the finality of a threat dressed in diplomacy. He inclined his head, not in respect but acknowledgment, and turned. The others followed, cloaks sweeping like shadows as they disappeared into the trees beyond the gate.

But their departure left no relief. Only a weight heavier than before.

When the courtyard finally emptied, Lena remained at Kade’s side, her fingers brushing the back of his hand, grounding herself in the heat of him.

“They’ll come for me,” she whispered.

“They’ll try,” Kade answered, his voice a growl laced with promise. “But they’ll learn the same lesson Cassian did. No one touches what’s mine and survives.”

The claim ignited something primal in her chest, a fire that both steadied and terrified her. But as she looked into his eyes, she knew—this was only the first ripple.

Cassian’s death had not ended the war.

It had started it.

And soon, the Council’s judgment would fall like the strike of a blade.