The betrayal came from inside the walls.
I felt it before I saw it—the bond spasmed violently, threads snapping taut like stretched wire. Pain shot through my chest, sharp and sudden, stealing the air from my lungs. I staggered, hand flying to my heart.
"Her pulse!" Kael barked, panic slicing through his usual control.
Riven was beside me instantly, energy flaring wildly. "Someone breached the bond—inside the pack!"
Solen's calm shattered. His eyes scanned the compound with surgical precision. "Lock everything down. Now."
The alarm never sounded.
Instead, a scream tore through the night.
From the eastern watchtower.
Kael didn't wait. He shifted mid-stride, massive gray wolf exploding forward. Riven followed in a burst of green light, and Solen vanished into shadow. I forced myself upright, ignoring the burning in my chest, the bond screaming warnings.
Anchor, Astraea whispered urgently. This is no external attack. This is a fracture.
We reached the tower in seconds.
Blood stained the stone steps.
A guard lay slumped against the wall, throat torn open, eyes glassy. The bond recoiled in horror, grief rippling through the pack like a wave. Wolves gathered, murmuring, panic rising fast.
Then I saw him.
Cael.
The same young alpha who had sworn loyalty. The one I had anchored myself.
He stood at the center of the tower, hands slick with blood, eyes wild—not with malice, but fear.
"I didn't mean to," he gasped. "She—she was in my head. Lyris promised—she promised my family protection."
The bond screamed.
Kael shifted back, fury radiating off him. "You opened our defenses."
Riven's energy crackled violently. "You killed one of our own."
"I was trying to stop her!" Cael cried. "She said the bond would collapse, that you'd all die, that I had to—"
"That's enough," I said.
My voice cut through the chaos like a blade.
Everyone froze.
The pain in my chest sharpened, but I stood tall, forcing the bond to steady, to obey. Threads pulled toward Cael violently, strained and unstable. His connection was corrupted—twisted by fear and manipulation.
Solen stepped closer, voice dangerously calm. "Anchor, if you don't sever him now, she'll use him again."
Astraea's voice was heavy. This is the price of binding without readiness. Choose carefully.
Cael dropped to his knees. "Please," he whispered. "I didn't want this. I don't want to betray you."
The pack watched in silence.
This wasn't just punishment.
This was precedent.
If I spared him, doubt would spread. If I destroyed him, fear would rule.
I inhaled slowly, grounding myself in the bond—not dominance, not rage, but clarity.
"Cael," I said quietly, stepping closer. "Look at me."
He did, tears streaking down his face.
"You chose fear," I continued. "And fear cost someone their life. That cannot be undone."
His shoulders shook.
"But," I said, voice firm, "you also chose us once. That choice matters."
Kael stiffened. "You're not serious."
"I am," I said. "But mercy does not mean safety."
I turned to the pack, letting the bond amplify my voice into every thread.
"From this moment forward, betrayal will be met with truth—not excuses, not silence. Cael will live… but he will no longer lead."
Gasps rippled through the wolves.
Solen's eyes widened slightly. Riven went still.
I placed my hand over Cael's chest and pulled.
The bond resisted—screamed—but I held firm.
Slowly, deliberately, I stripped his anchor-thread, severing him from leadership, from influence, from the deeper bond network. Power drained from him like blood from an open wound. He collapsed, gasping, alive—but ordinary.
The bond snapped shut.
Clean.
Final.
"This," I said, standing tall despite the ache tearing through me, "is justice. Not cruelty. Not weakness. Loyalty is sacred here. And fear will never rule this pack."
Silence followed.
Then, one by one, wolves lowered their heads.
Kael exhaled sharply, the fury in his eyes shifting into something else—respect. "You chose the hardest path."
Riven nodded slowly. "And the strongest."
Solen inclined his head. "The pack will remember this night."
I felt it—the bond stabilizing, strengthening, hardening into something unbreakable.
But far beyond the walls, the shadows stirred.
Lyris laughed.
Soft. Distant.
Satisfied.
Astraea whispered, You passed the trial of blood, Anchor. But she will come herself next time. And when she does… she won't ask permission.
I stared into the dark, heart pounding.
"Let her come," I said quietly.
Because now, the pack knew.
And so did I.