THIRD PERSON POV
Night came cold in the valley.
Braxton stood with his hands braced on the wooden table inside the temporary war shelter the Lycans provided. A single lantern lit the room.
Damon, Lucien, Lukas, and the Lycan envoy, Alaric, gathered around the map spread between them.
No grand speeches. No heroics. Just planning.
Braxton began to speak. “We can’t win a war yet. We can’t even rally the clans until we know who’s informing Jaxon.”
Damon nodded. “He has eyes everywhere. Soldiers, merchants, healers, council members. Anyone could be a messenger.”
“Which means we can only trust the people in this room. Everyone else is a variable,” Lucien added.
Lukas scratched his head. “So… we’re basically screwed until we figure out who’s playing messenger pigeon for the psycho king.
