The Beta Who Betrayed Her Pack For the Enemy Alpha

Chapter 22 – The Staged Ambush

The infirmary smelled like blood and boiled herbs and the sharp, clean bite of alcohol. Too bright after the dim of the ravine, too quiet after the clash of steel.

“Sit,” Eryx ordered, pushing me onto a cot.

“I’m fine,” I said automatically.

“You’re leaking on my floor,” he snapped. “Fine can wait.”

He cut my shredded tunic away with efficient gestures, jaw tight. The slice along my ribs burned as air hit it.

“Hold still,” he murmured.

His hands were sure, gentle. They always were. That was the worst part.

“You should’ve had more backup,” he went on. “That ravine is a choke point. Everyone knows that.”

“Take it up with the Council,” I said. “They chose the route.”

“And you went along with it,” he said, not looking at my face. “You could’ve refused the assignment.”

“Right,” I scoffed. “Because that would’ve gone over great with Serapha. ‘Sorry, your Highness, your field test smells like a trap, I’m staying home.’”

His mouth thinned. “Sarcasm looks ugly on you.”

“So does treason,” I shot back.

His hands stilled.

“Careful,” he said softly.

“I was almost gutted in a ravine full of Council hunters wearing temple marks while an emissary and a priestess observed,” I hissed. “I think ‘careful’ has left the building.”

He sighed, picked up the needle and thread, and began stitching with brisk, precise movements.

“You’re angry,” he said. “Good. You should be. But aim it at the right target, Lyris.”

“Enlighten me,” I said through gritted teeth.

“The Council is using Mistveil as a stage,” he said. “We both know that now. Serapha’s been itching for a ‘correction’ for months. I’m not blind.”

I blinked. “You admit that.”

“I’m not your enemy,” he said, voice low. “Whatever you’ve convinced yourself of.”

“You’re the one with your hands in our Alpha’s veins,” I said. “In my father’s. In half this pack’s skulls.”

“And you think I haven’t noticed when my orders no longer come from my patients’ best interests?” He met my gaze then, eyes shadowed. “You think I like being told which dosages to ‘adjust’ from a temple I never applied to?”

My throat worked. “You never said—”

“Because saying it out loud gets you labeled like you’ve been labeled,” he cut in. “Compromised. Influenced. Dangerous.”

He tied off the last stitch, wiped away the blood, taped a bandage over the wound.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not trying to keep you alive in the middle of this circus,” he finished quietly.

Confusion twisted in my chest. “Then why—”

A knock at the door cut me off.

“Enter,” Eryx called.

Lucien stepped in, as perfectly composed as if he’d just stepped out of a meeting instead of an ambush.

“Forgive the intrusion,” he said. “How are our brave wolves faring?”

“Exhausted,” Eryx said curtly. “Lucky. A few inches to the left and we’d be discussing funerals, not sutures.”

“Mm.” Lucien’s gaze skimmed over me, taking in the bandages, the bruises, the stubborn set of my jaw. “The Council will be… interested in your report, Beta.”

“Which part?” I asked coldly. “The bit where their hunters tried to ‘correct’ us in a ravine, or the bit where Duskhowl watched them fail?”

His smile sharpened. “Ah. You saw them.”

“It was hard to miss the outlaw Alpha lurking at the mouth of the gorge,” I said. “Was that part of your test, too?”

“If it had been,” he replied lightly, “I would hardly admit it here.”

He moved closer, just enough that I had to tip my head back to keep eye contact.

“You handled yourself well,” he said. “You kept formation. Protected your charges. Did not seek… external aid.” His eyes glittered. “The Council appreciates restraint.”

“They appreciate a clean narrative,” I said. “They didn’t get one.”

He chuckled. “No. They did not. Hunters dead, witnesses alive, rogue Alpha on the horizon.” He shook his head, almost regretful. “Very messy.”

“Maybe they should stop scripting ‘accidents’ then,” I said.

He tilted his head. “Careful, Beta. That sounds almost like an accusation.”

“Almost,” I said. “When I accuse, you’ll know.”

We held each other’s gaze for a long, measured beat.

Finally, he nodded once, as if sealing some private assessment.

“The Council will, of course, view this as evidence of… heightened instability around Mistveil,” he said. “They may choose to accelerate their… interventions.”

My fingers curled in the blanket. “On our Alpha. On me.”

“On any element they deem volatile,” he said. “But volatility isn’t always a flaw.”

He stepped back.

“You’re at a crossroads, Lyris,” he said. “You can be the Beta who keeps your pack from tearing itself apart under pressure… or the one whose fear of the Council makes that fear a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

My laugh came out ragged. “That’s rich, coming from the man who signed off on this circus.”

“I sign off on very little,” he said softly. “I watch. I report. I nudge. Others pull the levers.”

“Comforting,” I muttered.

He inclined his head to Eryx. “Healer. Thank you for your work.”

When he was gone, the room seemed to exhale.

“You see?” Eryx said quietly. “They’re already spinning this.”

“I know,” I said.

“And yet you keep charging straight at them,” he went on. “You think they won’t adapt? Tighten the screws? Next ‘test’ might not have a ravine. It might be your father’s heart. Your brother’s patrol. Your friend’s ‘mistake’ on the wall.”

My stomach twisted. “So what, I sit down and behave?”

“No,” he said. “You get smarter. Louder in the right ears, quieter in the wrong ones.”

He met my gaze, the bitterness in his eyes suddenly naked.

“You’re not the only one they’re using, Lyris,” he said. “Don’t make me your only battlefield.”

I stared at him, breathing hard.

“Then start proving whose side you’re on,” I said. “Because the next time they try to stage an ‘incident,’ I won’t be satisfied with stitching.”

He nodded once, something like resolve settling over his features.

“Then we’d better make sure,” he said, “that the next ‘accident’ doesn’t happen on their schedule.”

As I left the infirmary, the word accelerated echoed in my head.

The Council had pushed the timeline.

So would I.