Page 54 of Mane Brew

“You’re not wrong. You’re compromised.”

“She makes me better.” The words come out with more certainty than I expect. “That’s not compromised judgment. That’s growth. The kind you clearly can’t see from where you’re standing.”

“Who’s destroying everything you’ve built.” Izag turns desperate. “Everything we’ve built. The pride. The Network. The careful balance that keeps Mistvale safe. She’s chaos, Rhodes. And chaos breaks things.”

“Chaos creates things too. New things. Better things.” I step back. Create distance between us—emotional as much as physical. “You’ve lost sight of that. Maybe you never saw it to begin with.”

“I was trying to save you.”

“You were trying to save yourself. From a future that didn’t include your narrow definition of proper order.” I straighten. Compose my features into the mask of formal authority that pride leaders wear when delivering judgment. “Izag Linden. You have betrayed the Sunridge Lions. You have compromised Network security. You have provided aid and information to an organization that murdered innocent people and attempted to destroy the very fabric of our magical community.”

His face goes pale. “Rhodes⁠—”

“You will be confined until the other alphas can be assembled. Your fate will be decided by the collective leadership of the Protection Network.” My voice doesn’t waver. Can’t afford to waver. “Our friendship ended the moment you chose ideology over loyalty. Whatever happens next is the consequence of your choices. Not mine.”

I reach for the communication charm in my pocket. Send the signal that will summon pride guards to the Archive Building.

Izag doesn’t run. Doesn’t fight. Just stands there in the moonlight, looking at me with an expression I can’t quite read—regret, maybe, or just the hollow acceptance of a man who always knew this moment would come.

“I was trying to help,” he says again. Quieter this time. “Someone had to save you from yourself.”

“That’s the thing about salvation.” The guards appear in the doorway. “It only works if someone wants to be saved.”

The Den is packed by dawn.

Every alpha in the Protection Network crowds around the central table—Caius with his wolf’s stillness, Torin’s bulk making his chair creak ominously, Aslan prowling near the windows, Elio lounging with deceptive casualness, Veren’s fox ears twitching with barely contained energy.

I stand at the head of the table, evidence spread before me. The files that destroyed a thirty-year friendship, laid bare for my colleagues to examine.

“The information leaks trace back to Izag over a period of at least two years.” I keep my voice level. Has to be level. “He had access to my office, my schedules, my files. He used that access to feed intelligence to the Preservers about Network movements, shipping routes, and operational timing.”

Silence settles over the room. The weight of betrayal presses against every alpha present.

“The raid on Duskfire Brewery.” Elio’s words carry silk over steel.

Caius’s jaw tightens. “The ambush during the dragon journey. They knew our route.”

“Izag reviewed the travel plans before we departed. I assumed his questions were standard security protocol.” The admission burns. “They were information gathering.”

“The Architect recruited him specifically for access to you.” Elio pushes off his chair, moves to examine the spread. “Now I see the pattern was there—he pushed back against every investigation that got too close to Preserver operations. Always with reasonable-sounding concerns. Always with just enough truth to make the obstruction seem like caution.”

“I trusted him.” The words cost more than they should. “I excused his behavior because I wanted to believe the best of a friend.”

“That’s not a failure of leadership.” Caius speaks with unexpected gentleness. “That’s being human.”

“Lions,” Aslan corrects. “That’s a lion thing. Trusting your pride blindly—it’s hardwired into you lot.”

“It’s also a vulnerability the Preservers exploited deliberately.” Elio taps one of the files. “Izag wasn’t a true believer when they recruited him. He was a traditionalist with concerns about change. They shaped those concerns into ideology over years of careful cultivation.”

“Doesn’t excuse what he did,” Torin rumbles. “Betrayal is betrayal, regardless of how it started.”

“Agreed. But it explains how it happened.” Elio meets my gaze with unusual directness. “And it means there could be others. Other traditionalists the Architect approached.”

The implication settles over the room like a cold wind.

“I’ll have my wolves review their internal communications,” Caius says. “Look for the same patterns.”

“My panthers already run regular security sweeps.” Elio’s smile carries no warmth. “I’ll expand the scope. Quietly.”