In war, the most dangerous enemy…
Is the one who already knows your next move.
The command tent feels smaller than usual.
Not because of the space—
But because of the weight pressing down inside it.
Maps cover the table, marked with fresh failures. Broken routes. Ambushed units. Perfectly countered attacks.
Not a single mistake from the enemy.
Too precise.
Too clean.
Kael drags a hand across the map, frustration barely contained.
“They didn’t just anticipate us,” he says. “They knew exactly where we’d be. Every time.”
Aria stands across from him, silent, her eyes scanning every mark, every line, every pattern.
Her wolf is awake—fully awake—watching through her, analyzing, hunting.
“This isn’t coincidence,” she says finally.
Kael lets out a dry breath. “No. It’s not.”
Silence
