Choosing a spy wasn’t about strength.
It was about invisibility.
Too strong, and Diesel would notice them, too weak, and they wouldn’t survive a week in Moon Fury.
After some time
I finally found Lyra.
A Zeta from the old Red Sorrow ranks, I had fought with her before she was quiet, sharp-eyed, and good at making herself seem smaller than she was.
She’d been overlooked her whole life. Perfect for slipping under an Alpha’s nose.
“I need your help." I said one day when we were hunting. "in Moon Fury,” I told her, once we were alone in the forest.
Her brows rose. “As a spy?”
“As a kitchen hand,” I corrected. “You’ll work, you’ll keep your head down, and you’ll listen. Anything you see, anything you hear. I want it in my hands by the next full moon. And if you can, keep an eye on the
