Cass’s POV

"Are you... alright?" Colt’s voice was laced with worry.

I didn't answer; I simply leaned over and retched until there was nothing left. The image of the slaughtered guard was burned into my retinas, a visceral reminder that death had breached our sanctuary.

"I told you," Colt murmured, rubbing soothing circles into my back. "You shouldn’t have looked."

"You were right," I wheezed, wiping my mouth. "I shouldn't have."

The war room was a pressure cooker of tension.

"We have confirmation," Archie, the beta, announced, his face grim. "Ezra is actively securing alliances with surrounding packs, and Oliver is his shadow. They are consolidating power."

"And the bodies?" I asked, my voice steady despite the nausea still roiling in my gut. "Is it Ezra?"

"We don't know," Victor intervened. "The murder weapon is the same, but the motive? It’s senseless. Just slaughter."

I looked at the map, my mind racing. I needed to move our assets, but I wouldn't sacrifice our own people to feed a meat grinder. "We bring in the rogues," I decided. "We cut them a deal—protection and resources in exchange for guarding the river territories. We tell them the truth about the risk. If they’re willing to fight, we reward them."

"You’re putting a lot of faith in rogues," Garret warned.

"I’m putting faith in their desperation," I replied.

After the meeting, Kanda appeared from nowhere, grabbing my arm with a conspiratorial grin. "Boy talk is over. We’re going to the pack doctor. You’re keeping secrets, Alpha, but you aren't hiding them from me."

She dragged me to the medical bay, looming over the doctor until he agreed to a private check-up.

"It’s early," the doctor whispered, placing the fetalscope against my abdomen. "But the heartbeats are there."

He handed me the device. I listened, my breath hitching as I caught the faint, rapid

thump-thump

of my child’s heart against the steady rhythm of my own. It was a miracle wrapped in terror.

Twelve weeks,

he’d said.

The pregnancy will be impossible to hide soon.

Returning to the main hall, I saw the wooden skeletons of the reform camp had been cleared away. Victor had obeyed. The sight brought a flicker of genuine peace to my heart, which Colt noticed immediately.

"You’re happy," he said, coming up behind me.

"It’s gone, Colt. Finally."

"Tonight," he murmured, his hands sliding to my waist with a possessive heat, "let me thank you properly."

Before the promise could settle, Victor sprinted toward us, his face ashen. "Another one," he choked out. "In the upstairs bathroom. A maid."

"Fk!" Colt cursed, his hand going to his weapon.

The scene in the bathroom was brutal—a crimson ruin in the porcelain tub. It was a bold, taunting move. Whoever was doing this was laughing at us.

"We have to tell the pack," Victor said. "They’re going to panic."

"I know," I replied. "But we have no choice."

I looked at the blood, then at Colt, and finally inward. I was the Alpha. My people were being butchered in their sleep, and I was holding a secret that could either be my greatest strength or my undoing.

If I had my full power, I could find the killer.

"I’m doing it," I whispered to Colt, my voice trembling with resolve.

"Doing what?"

"I’m letting Honora break the seal. I need my power back."

Colt hesitated, his eyes searching mine. He knew it was dangerous, and he trusted me—but he didn't know the full truth of what was at stake. I hugged him tightly, a silent apology for the lies I was forced to tell.

Forgive me, my love,

I thought as we turned toward the door.

I’m doing this for all of us.