Fate betrayal

CHAPTER 28

Chapter 28: Shadows of Deception

Killian's POV

The flames in the hearth flickered against the stone walls of my study, but the warmth didn’t reach me. Lucas paced in front of my desk like a wolf caught in a trap. His movements were restless, his energy simmering with something unspoken. I leaned back in my chair, folding my arms across my chest, watching him.

“Are you going to tell me what’s got you so worked up, or do I have to guess?” I finally asked, my voice cool.

Lucas stopped abruptly, his eyes locking onto mine. “You’re not seeing it, Killian. You’re too close to the situation to notice the cracks.”

I stiffened. “And what cracks are those, exactly?”

“Veyron,” Lucas said, his tone sharp. “The way he’s always one step ahead. The rogue attacks, the ambushes, his ability to exploit our weaknesses—none of it adds up unless someone’s feeding him information.”

This again. He’d brought up the possibility of a traitor before, but now, his conviction was stronger. “We’ve already discussed this, Lucas. I’ve vetted our inner circle. Our warriors. Even our alliances. There’s no evidence—”

“Because you’re not looking in the right places!” he interrupted, slamming his hands on my desk.

I glared at him, the dominance of my Alpha presence pushing against his boldness. “Careful, Lucas.”

He didn’t back down. “You’re making a mistake, Killian. You’re trusting the wrong people.”

“Then say it,” I growled, rising from my seat. “If you have accusations to make, do it. Name the traitor.”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening. “I don’t have a name. Not yet. But the signs are there. Veyron’s attacks are too precise. He knows things he shouldn’t—locations, schedules, our defensive rotations. Someone’s feeding him intel, and it’s someone close to us.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and damning.

I stared at my brother, searching his face for doubt, for hesitation, for anything that might make me dismiss his claims. But all I saw was frustration and something deeper—fear.

“And you think I’m blind to this?” I asked, my voice low.

“I think you’re too focused on fighting Veyron head-on to see the rot within,” he shot back.

I took a step closer to him, my anger barely contained. “Do you know what you’re suggesting, Lucas? That someone in our pack, someone who swore loyalty to us, is working with the enemy. That’s not a claim you make lightly.”

“I’m not making it lightly,” he said, his voice steady. “I’m making it because it’s the truth. And if you don’t start questioning the people around you, you’ll never see the knife coming.”

---

That night, his words stayed with me, gnawing at the edges of my mind. I couldn’t sleep, the weight of his accusations pressing down on me. Could he be right? Was there truly a traitor among us?

I found myself walking through the halls of the estate, the familiar paths offering little comfort. My feet carried me to the training yard, where the moon cast long shadows across the worn dirt.

I trained alone for a while, letting the physical exertion clear my head. My fists struck the wooden post in a rhythmic pattern, each blow a release of the frustration building inside me.

“Can’t sleep either?” Lucas’s voice cut through the silence.

I turned to find him standing at the edge of the yard, his arms crossed.

“What do you want, Lucas?”

He stepped closer, his expression unreadable. “To talk. To explain.”

I exhaled sharply, stepping away from the post. “You’ve said enough. You think there’s a traitor. Fine. But without proof, all you’re doing is sowing doubt.”

“That doubt could save your life,” he said bluntly.

I scoffed. “And what am I supposed to do? Start interrogating everyone? Treat my own pack like enemies?”

“No,” he said, his tone softer now. “But you need to be careful. Trust is a luxury we can’t afford right now.”

I stared at him, trying to gauge his intentions. Lucas had always been the more skeptical one, the one who questioned everything. But this felt different.

“What aren’t you telling me?” I asked.

He hesitated, his gaze shifting to the ground. “There’s something I’ve been working on. A lead.”

“What lead?”

“I can’t say yet,” he said, meeting my eyes again. “Not until I’m sure.”

My frustration flared. “You came to me with accusations and no proof, and now you’re keeping secrets? How am I supposed to trust you, Lucas?”

“Because I’m your brother,” he said simply. “And because I want the same thing you do—to protect this pack.”

---

The next morning, the estate was buzzing with activity. Reports of rogue movements near the border had everyone on edge. I called a meeting in the war room, gathering my top warriors and advisors to discuss our next move.

Lucas was there, standing off to the side, his expression unreadable.

“We need to strengthen our defenses along the eastern border,” one of the warriors said. “If the rogues are planning another attack, that’s the most likely target.”

I nodded, considering the suggestion. “Double the patrols. And make sure the watchtowers are fully manned. I want reports every hour.”

As the meeting continued, I noticed Lucas watching me, his gaze sharp and calculating.

When the others left, he stayed behind, lingering near the map on the table.

“You’re still doubting me,” he said quietly.

“Can you blame me?” I replied.

He looked at me, his expression hard. “If I’m right, Killian, and you don’t act, it could cost us everything.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

“Then I’ll live with the consequences,” he said. “But can you?”

---

That evening, I found a note slipped under my door. The handwriting was unfamiliar, the message brief:

The truth isn’t what it seems. Meet me in the woods at midnight.

I stared at the note, my instincts screaming that it was a trap. But something about it felt...off.

At midnight, I went to the edge of the woods, my senses on high alert. The night was eerily quiet, the trees casting long shadows in the pale moonlight.

“Killian.”

I turned to find Lucas stepping out from behind a tree, his expression tense.

“You sent the note?” I asked, my hand resting on the hilt of my blade.

He shook his head. “No. I thought you sent it.”

My blood ran cold.

Before I could respond, a sharp whistle cut through the air, followed by the sound of movement—too fast and too many to be animals.

“Ambush,” Lucas growled, drawing his blade.

The rogues came at us from all sides, their eyes glowing with the frenzy of bloodlust. Lucas and I stood back-to-back, fighting them off as the night erupted into chaos.

But even as we fought, one question burned in my mind:

Who sent the note? And why had they lured us here?

The answer, I feared, would change everything.