CHASE
Cold drafts swept through the dungeon corridors beneath the Silverfang packhouse, carrying the stale stench of rusted iron and dried blood. Tossing my tailored suit jacket over a wooden chair, I rolled my shirt sleeves past my elbows. Standing near the heavy iron door, Garret watched me with grim hesitation.
"Are you sure about this, Alpha?" Garret asked, his voice echoing off the damp stone walls. "The Council will demand a formal tribunal if they find out we have one of their informants chained to a wall."
"Let them demand whatever they want," I growled, rolling my shoulders to loosen the tension knotting my back. "The Council is not watching our crops rot or burying our scouts. This rat infiltrated my personal guard. I will extract every secret he holds, and I will do it alone
