Chapter 232
Maps don’t lie. But they do whisper.
And the one Nessa handed me whispered of war.
Six red circles. All inside our borders. One just a half-mile from the council chamber. Another along the old western watchtower—abandoned for years. Each marked by a crude symbol: the broken fang.
I stared at it under the flickering lantern light in Roman’s war room, my stomach coiled tight.
“They’re planning synchronized attacks,” Roman said quietly beside me. “Or at least distractions. Diversions meant to divide us before they strike something real.”
“We have two prisoners,” I said. “Neither of them talked.”
“Not yet,” he replied, eyes cold. “Wyatt’s working on it.”
Normally I’d feel uneasy at that, but tonight? I wanted answers. And I didn’t care how we got them.
“We need to intercept the next one,” I said. “Shut it down before they scatter again.”
Roman nodded. “Already assembling a team.”
I laid a hand on the map. “I want in.”
He looked up sharply. “Iris—”
“I’m not asking,” I said softly. “They attacked my women, Roman. My training grounds. I need them to see I’m not afraid of fire.”
His jaw clenched, but he nodded. “Fine. But you ride with me.”
We moved under cover of darkness.
Roman, me, Nessa, Wyatt, and three elite trackers swept toward the western tower in silence, our scents masked, our footsteps ghosted. The moon barely lit our path, but we didn’t need it. We knew this terrain like breath.
The tower came into view—nothing but a crumbling stone relic, vines curling around its bones. But a flicker of movement caught my eye.
A light.
Inside.
Roman signaled the team. Wyatt flanked left. Nessa and I crept to the rear entrance, hearts pounding.
I could smell them.
Four? Five maybe?
The closer I got, the clearer the voices became.
“…strike the council hall at dawn. Elders loyal to Halrick will open the gates. The Luna will be at the infirmary—weak link. Take her first.”
My blood ran cold.
I exchanged a glance with Nessa.
Weak link?
How cute.
Roman’s voice sounded in my earpiece, calm and lethal. “On your mark, Luna.”
I inhaled deeply. “Mark.”
We burst in like thunder.
Roman took the lead, tackling one of the rebels before he could scream. Nessa moved like a shadow, slicing the tendons in her opponent’s leg before knocking him unconscious. I grabbed the nearest man—hooded, armed, snarling—and slammed his head into the stone wall.
They fought back, but not well. Caught off guard. The betrayal had made them soft.
Within minutes, we had five new prisoners.
And a whole new problem.
Wyatt stepped out of the shadows holding a scroll.
“It’s a list,” he said. “Names. Council names. Guards. Locations.”
He handed it to Roman, who scanned it with growing fury.
“I knew it,” he growled. “They’ve infected the council.”
My hand hovered over the parchment. One name in particular burned like acid.
Elder Halrick.
By midday, we returned to the packhouse.
Our captives were locked beneath the infirmary, guarded by wolves loyal only to Roman.
I didn’t wait.
I walked straight into the council chambers.
They weren’t expecting me. Good.
The room buzzed with low chatter until I stepped in, flanked by Nessa and Ella. The conversations stilled. Chairs shifted. All twelve Elders turned.
Including Halrick.
“Luna,” he said smoothly. “We weren’t informed of a session today.”
“I know,” I said. “Consider this a courtesy.”
I tossed the scroll onto the table.
It landed with a slap that echoed.
“What’s this?” Elder Sorin asked, frowning.
“A list of names,” I said. “Compiled by the traitors who ambushed our warriors. Including plans to breach this very hall.”
Gasps. Movement. Halrick stayed still.
Sorin lifted the scroll, scanning. “These… this can’t be—”
“It is,” Roman said, stepping through the doors behind me.
Gasps turned to silence.
“You’re accusing your own council of treason?” Halrick asked, tone perfectly neutral.
“No,” I said, stepping closer to him. “We’re accusing you.”
For the first time, his mask cracked—just a flicker. Then it was back.
“How convenient,” he said. “You intercept enemies, and now you parade names? Names you claim they gave you willingly?”
I leaned in, just enough that only he could hear.
“They weren’t willing. But they were scared. And they gave you up to save their skins.”
His lips curled. “Do you really think anyone will believe a Luna who leads women into combat?”
I straightened. “No. But they’ll believe a Luna who leads them out.”
Behind me, Ella stepped forward and unrolled another scroll—attendance rosters. Dozens of signatures. Training volunteers. Witnesses to the attacks. Support.
“They believe me, Halrick,” I said. “And the truth is, you’ve been losing power ever since I stopped serving tea and started serving strategy.”
He stood then, and I could feel the tension ripple through the room. His followers shifted. Some looked unsure. Others stepped away.
“Then let’s put it to a vote,” Halrick said. “If I’ve truly betrayed this council, let the members decide.”
He expected silence.
He got Wyatt, stepping forward with a bloodied cloak.
“This was found in your office,” he said. “Same crest worn by the rebels. Same stitching. Want to explain that?”
Halrick paled. Just a little.
I smiled. “We’re not voting today.”
Roman stepped beside me. “You don’t vote on betrayal. You answer to it.”
That night, the packhouse burned with quiet whispers.
Halrick was under house arrest.
Half the council was being investigated.
And the list we’d found continued to reveal connections we hadn’t imagined.
But for once, it didn’t feel like we were barely surviving.
It felt like we were winning.
I stood on the balcony, watching the torches flicker below as warriors changed shifts and guards patrolled tighter than ever.
Roman joined me silently.
“I never thought we’d have to fight our own,” I said softly.
“Every pack has shadows,” he murmured. “But not every pack has a Luna who knows how to bring the light.”
I smiled faintly. “Flatterer.”
He pulled me close. “Truth-teller.”
We stood like that for a while—no words, no war, just breath.
Then I whispered, “They’ll try again.”
“I know.”
“But next time, I won’t wait to be ambushed.”
His eyes gleamed. “Neither will I.”
And somewhere below, Nessa trained under the moonlight. Alone. Fierce. Ready.
This wasn’t just a pack anymore.
This was a revolution.
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