Kael’s POV

The gathering was supposed to be brief. Reports, border updates, nothing more. Mira stood beside Cyrus, silent but composed. The council was restless. It was tired of rumors and whispers that didn’t cease.

Kael's tone clipped. And his patience is thinning. “You all know why we’re here. Let’s get through it without theatrics, he said.

The elders nodded, though some already looked uneasy. The tension between Mira and the council was still a wound no one wanted to touch.

Ronan, Windermere’s Gamma, poured wine and smiled at Mira, polite and unassuming. “Peace offering,” he said. She hesitated, but Kael nodded. The meeting shifted; reports followed, all too routine to matter.

Then Ronan coughed, soft at first. The next was harder, wet. His hand trembled. The glass fell, shattering.

“Ronan?” Kael was already up. Mira froze. Her eyes widened as Ronan’s body went rigid. He gasped, tried to speak, and collapsed before the guards even moved. The smell of spilled wine cut through the air. It wasn’t just wine.

“Get the healer!” Kael’s voice snapped the silence. Two men ran. Mira stepped forward, hands shaking as she knelt. She pressed her fingers to Ronan’s pulse. Weak. Barely there. “It’s poison,” she said quietly. “And it wasn’t meant for him.”

The words hung heavy. Kael’s eyes went to the goblet. The one that had been set before Mira. His stomach turned cold. He looked around the table; everyone was a possible threat. He saw every silence as a confession. “Who poured it?” he demanded.

Ronan’s attendant stammered. “I, I took it from the tray, Alpha. It was meant for Lady Mira.” His voice broke as Kael grabbed the tray, sniffing the rim of the cup. The metallic scent was unmistakable. “Belladonna,” Kael muttered. “Strong dose.”

Cyrus crouched beside Mira, voice low. “He’ll die if we don’t purge it now.” Mira’s power flickered in her palms, but Kael stopped her. “Don’t,” he said tightly. “We don’t know how it reacts with wolf energy.” Her jaw clenched, but she obeyed.

The healers arrived, dragging Ronan out on a stretcher. His skin was already losing color. The council murmured in panic, voices overlapping, suspicion spreading like wildfire. Kael turned slowly, gaze sweeping across them. “No one leaves,” he said. “Not until I find who did this.”

The guards sealed the doors. Chairs scraped as people shifted. Mira stood apart, silent, her eyes on the stained floor. She didn’t need to ask who the poison was meant for. Kael’s hand brushed hers briefly. “Stay close,” he said under his breath.

Hours passed. The interrogations began. Kael questioned servants, guards, and attendants. Every tray was checked, every bottle uncorked. One was missing. The servant assigned to deliver it had vanished. No trace, no scent, nothing but a broken door hinge behind the wine storage.

Kael’s anger simmered. “They had help,” he said to Cyrus. “No one gets through our borders alone.” Cyrus nodded grimly. “Someone inside tipped them off.” Mira watched in silence, arms crossed. “This isn’t random,” she said. “It’s a message.”

Kael’s jaw tightened. “To me or to you?” She didn’t answer. The question didn’t need one. He turned away, calling for patrols to double shifts. “No one rests until I have that servant in chains.”

By nightfall, Ronan was alive but barely. The healer said he’d need three days before he could speak. Kael visited him anyway. The room was dim, guarded by two soldiers. The Gamma lay still, chest rising slowly, his lips faintly blue. Kael stood over him, fists clenched. “You took a blow meant for her,” he muttered. “You shouldn’t have.”

Mira entered quietly. “He saved me.” Kael didn’t respond. He couldn’t. Guilt had found him, heavy and immovable. “This is my fault,” she said. “Someone wanted me silenced, and I didn’t see it coming.” Kael turned. “You didn’t poison your own wine, Mira. Don’t twist it that way.”

She met his gaze. “You said no one leaves that room. But they did.” Her voice was sharp now, almost cold. “That means someone with authority let them go.” He knew she was right. The betrayal cut deeper than the attack.

Outside, the fortress buzzed with unease. Rumors grew faster than facts. Some said the poison came from River Mark. Others whispered of a rogue trader seen near the stables. Cyrus found nothing concrete, just silence, everywhere.

At midnight, a messenger brought news. “A body was found near the east watchtower,” he said. “Female. Dressed in servant robes.” Kael’s pulse jumped. “Bring me there.” Mira followed before he could stop her.

The corpse was curled beside a barrel; hands blackened from toxin exposure. Kael crouched, examining the fingers. The nails were stained red. “She handled the poison directly,” he said. Mira knelt opposite him. “But this isn’t her doing.”

Cyrus joined them, frowning. “You’re sure?” Mira nodded. “This is execution, not guilt. She was silenced.” Kael rose. “Then whoever hired her is still out there.” His tone was calm, but every muscle in his body screamed for blood.

They searched the area. A ring was found near the corpse, a silver crest with an unfamiliar emblem. Kael pocketed it. “We trace this. Every forge, every craftsman. Someone made it.”

Later that night, Kael sat in the war room, staring at the ring. Cyrus paced, and Mira stood near the map. The storm outside battered the windows. “It’s deliberate,” Cyrus said. “Whoever did this wanted us divided.”

Kael’s voice was flat. “They failed.” Mira looked up sharply. “You can’t keep saying that when I’m the reason someone almost died.” He met her eyes. “You’re not the reason. You’re the target.”

A knock interrupted. A guard entered. “Alpha, there’s someone asking to see you. Says his name is Riven.” Kael frowned. “Who?” The guard hesitated. “A tracker from the outer packs. Says he has information about the poison.”

Riven entered, tall, scarred, eyes too sharp to trust. “I found traces of wolfsbane and nightshade mix near the north boundary,” he said. “Not local. Someone imported it.” Mira stepped forward. “From where?”

“From the coast,” Riven replied. “Marked with River Mark’s seal.” Kael exhaled slowly. “So, it circles back to them.” Cyrus folded his arms. “Then we take this war to their doorstep.”

But Mira shook her head. “Not yet. They want you to retaliate. They want chaos.” Riven’s gaze flicked between them. “She’s right. There’s more. The trail ends near the valley, but there’s another scent, someone from your own ranks.”

Kael’s expression didn’t change, but the silence that followed was loud. “Who?” Riven looked uneasy. “I don’t know yet. But they were there. Watching.” Kael nodded once. “Find them. Quietly.”

Riven left. Mira turned to Kael. “If it’s one of ours, then I’ll handle it,” he cut in. His tone was final. “I’ll burn them out myself.”

The night deepened. Mira remained, eyes on the map. “You can’t fight everyone, Kael.” He gave a faint, humorless smile. “I can try.” She stepped closer. “Don’t.” He looked at her then, something breaking under the surface. “Someone tried to kill you, Mira. I’m not letting that pass.”

A pause. She softened. “Then we find who’s pulling the strings. Together.”

He nodded slowly, the tension easing just slightly. But the ring still sat between them on the table, cold and accusing.

By dawn, the camp was restless again. Patrols returned with nothing. The assassin had vanished cleanly. Ronan still fought for his life. The council demanded answers Kael couldn’t yet give.

When Cyrus came with updates, Kael didn’t look up. “Any luck?” he asked. “None,” Cyrus said. “But Riven’s still tracking. He says he found a secondary trail, someone smuggling antidotes through the valley.”

Kael’s brow furrowed. “Antidotes?” “Yes,” Cyrus said. “Whoever planned this didn’t mean to kill outright. They wanted panic.” Mira joined them. “Then it’s not about death. It’s control.”

Kael nodded. “And they failed at that, too.” He looked at Mira. “No more council sessions. You stay under watch.” She didn’t argue. Not this time. Riven’s words echoed in his mind. Someone from your own ranks. Behind him, Mira’s voice was quiet. “You’ll find them.” He didn’t turn. “I know.”