Chapter 122

**AUSTIN**

Elias Moreno was a ghost in plain sight. Cassius and I had spent the better part of two days trying to get closer to him, engage him in conversation, observe his habits, anything that might give us insight into what kind of man would sell out his own community. But the more time we spent with him, the less we saw.

He was polite, friendly even—warm in a way that put you at ease without being overly familiar. He volunteered to help unload supply trucks, taught self-defense classes to the younger wolves, and never missed a chance to praise Aria or support one of the council’s decisions. If we didn’t have hard evidence tying him to Alaric, I’d be the first to say we were wasting our time.

Cassius was just as perplexed. After our third meeting with Elias, we walked side by side down the corridor leading back to the council wing. "He’s clean,"
Cassius muttered. "Too clean."

"Yeah," I said, jaw tight. "It’s like he rehearsed every part of his life. No cracks. No hesitation."

That thought chilled me more than I cared to admit. If someone like Elias could live among us, earn our trust, and hide something that dangerous, then how many others were doing the same? How many of our neighbors smiled at us over morning coffee and whispered treason in the dark?

I kept these thoughts to myself until I returned to the apartment. The late afternoon sun had cast everything in a warm gold light, and there was Aria, seated on the terrace wrapped in a thick blanket, her hands cradling a mug of tea. Her hair glowed in the winter light, and the calm on her face soothed some of the tension tightening my chest.

She looked up when I opened the sliding door. "Hey, how was your day?"

I didn’t answer right away. I sat beside her, letting the heat from her body ease into me. "We spent more time with Elias."

Her brow furrowed. "And?"

"He’s perfect," I said flatly. "And that’s the problem. He doesn’t raise a single red flag. If we didn’t know what we know, I’d trust him without hesitation."

She reached out and took my hand. "That’s what makes it so terrifying, isn’t it?"

I nodded. "How can we protect this place if anyone could be hiding secrets like that? How many more do we have to watch? How can we know who’s really on our side?"

"You can’t," she said gently. "But you can trust the people who’ve proven themselves. You and Adam? You’ve risked everything for this place. Fares would die for us. Cassius has never wavered, and neither has Alex. Leila and Sasha would never betray us."

She turned to face me more fully, her grip tightening. "I trust you. That has to be enough."

I looked into her eyes, and something in me settled. It wasn’t that the doubts vanished—they were still there, gnawing quietly in the back of my mind—but her faith in me dulled their edge.

"I just wish it were easier," I said. "I don’t like walking through the halls wondering who’s next."

"Then don’t carry that alone," she said. "Share it with Adam. With the rest of us. That’s what we’re here for."

I leaned forward and kissed her forehead. Her scent, soft and familiar, calmed me in a way nothing else could. The babies kicked lightly, and I placed my hand over her stomach.

"They’re going to grow up in a world we fought for," I said quietly. "I just hope we win."

Aria smiled. "We will. Because we have something Alaric will never understand."

I raised a brow. "What’s that?"

"Each other."

The words lingered in the air between us, stronger than any strategy, sharper than any weapon. It was easy to forget in the midst of planning and fighting and second-guessing that what made this place worth saving wasn’t its walls or wards—it was the people. The family we’d built.

I pulled her closer and sat with her in silence, watching the last rays of sun disappear behind the trees. For now, we had this moment. And that was enough.

**ALARIC**

They thought they were clever—shifting their security, doubling their patrols, sniffing at every scent that lingered too long. Wolves, always so proud of their senses, as if instinct alone could protect them. But instincts could be deceived. Especially when sharpened by fear.

I watched from the edge of the forest as a sentry passed below, his eyes scanning the tree line, never once lifting to where I perched like a shadow. Poor boy.

If I wanted him dead, he’d never hear the step that took his life.

But that wasn’t why I was here. Not yet.

I’d been patient. Weeks of watching, listening, learning. This wasn’t the time for chaos. It was the time for precision.

Aria.

Her name moved like smoke through my mind, sweet and cloying. She burned brighter than the others. Not because of her power—though it pulsed stronger by the day—but because of what she carried. I could feel it even from a distance: two heartbeats, tangled and strong, not quite wolf, not quite vampire. Not yet.

They didn’t understand the danger she posed. Not to me. To the balance.

Once, long ago, I’d believed in peace. Now I believed in order. And the child—no, the children—inside her would burn it all to the ground.

Still, she was beautiful. Too beautiful for this world. For any world.

They thought they had time. That they could prepare. That I was some distant threat cloaked in shadows. But I was already in their bones. In their walls. I had my ways in.

Elias had played his part perfectly. And by the time they realized what he had truly given me, it would be far too late.

I didn’t want to kill them. Not all of them. Just the ones who wouldn’t kneel.

And I doubted Adam or Austin knew how to bow.

Pity.

Because I was almost ready to strike.

Almost.