“Better,” I murmur, holding her close. “You maintained the vision longer. How do you feel?”
She nods, a small smile touching her lips despite the exhaustion evident in the shadows beneath her eyes. “Exhausted, but I can feel it becoming easier. It’s less like diving into frigid water.”
I reach for a cloth, then begin to towel the water from her skin, taking more time than is strictly necessary. My wolf purrs at the contact, at this simple act of caring for our mate. Each sweep of the cloth across her arms, her shoulders, her back, is both practical and possessive—drying her and marking her with my scent in one motion.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t identify the other wolf,” she says, the frustration clear in her voice. “Someone’s helping them, Ryker. Someone who knows our defenses, but I can’t see who.”
Frustration rises in my throat, sharp and bitter, but I swallow it down before it touches my voice. She’s done more than enough. Pushed herself further than I would’ve dared ask. But gods, knowing someone within our walls is feeding information to Thaddeus... it curdles my blood.
“I’ve suspected we might have a mole in our midst. Your visions are showing adjustments based on our plans each day. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Thaddeus had his own seer.”
“Do you think so?” The question is hesitant, worried.
I shake my head. “We’d know about it if he did. It’s more likely to be a rat.”
“Do you have suspects?” she asks, leaning against me slightly.
The subtle weight of her, the trust in that simple gesture, tugs at a primitive part of me. I want to wrap her in my arms, carry her to our den, and keep her safe from all of this. Instead, I continue my careful ministrations, considering how much to share.
“Several,” I finally admit, my jaw tightening at the thought. “But without proof, accusations only create division when we need unity most.”
I crouch beside Kitara, dragging the towel lower to dry her calves, lingering just a moment too long at the delicate skin behind her knees. She leans into me, her body pliant, trusting. That trust is a blade to the chest.
I reach up, run my hand down her spine in slow, grounding strokes. “You’ve done well. You see more than any of us could. This isn’t your burden to carry alone.”
The war is coming. I can feel it in the air, see it in the increased preparations throughout our den. My wolves are readying themselves, weapons being forged, defenses reinforced, evacuation plans finalized for those too young or old to fight. The weight of their lives and safety rests on myshoulders—a familiar burden, but one that’s grown heavier since claiming Kitara.
Before, I had only myself to risk. Now, I have everything to lose.
“Let me try once more,” she suggests, turning back toward the Well. “Maybe if I focus specifically on the traitor?—”
“No.” My refusal is gentle but firm. I catch her elbow, turning her away from the temptation of the pool. “You’re near your limit. Pushing further risks your health.”
I can see she wants to argue, but then she nods, accepting my decision. This, too, is new—this trust between us that allows her to yield when necessary, just as I’ve learned to give ground when she pushes back.
“You are not failing,” I say more firmly, cupping her chin so she looks at me. Her eyes are glassy, dark with exhaustion and self-doubt. I lean closer, lowering my forehead to hers.
She swallows hard, a small nod the only answer she can give. I press a kiss to her brow and capture her hand, entwining our fingers.
“I’ll reassign the tunnel patrols,” I say as we walk back toward the main dens. “Double them, using only wolves I’ve known since they were pups. And I’ll have Lithia personally inspect the old mining shaft.”
“You trust her that much?”
“With my life.” The answer comes without hesitation. “She’s certainly saved it often.”
I see recognition in Kitara’s eyes—she’s likely remembering the vision she had of Lithia during their first confrontation on the stairs, where she saw how my second took a silver blade meant for me, earning the scar that marks her face.
“She’s loyal to you above all else,” Kitara observes.
“To the pack,” I correct, because the distinction matters. “As Alpha, I embody the pack’s interests, but Lithia’sultimate loyalty is to our people. If she ever believed I was acting against their welfare...” I shrug. “She would challenge me without hesitation.”
This truth doesn’t trouble me. In fact, it’s one of the reasons I trust Lithia so deeply. She serves the pack first, me second. As it should be.
“What about the others?” Kitara asks. “Elias, Kaden, Dane, and Levi?”
I consider each member of my inner circle, weighing what I know of them against the possibility of betrayal. “Elias follows the chain of command. His loyalty is structural—to the position of Alpha rather than to me personally.” I pause, thinking. “Dane is like his sister. Kaden’s loyalty is earned through fairness and strength. He follows because I’ve proven worthy of following. Levi...”
I hesitate, choosing my words carefully. “Levi tolerates my leadership because challenging me would cost more than he’s willing to pay. But he has ambitions of his own.”
