Trust does not shatter loudly.
It erodes.
Quietly.
Dangerously.
The camp does not celebrate victory.
Not after Red Hollow.
The wounded fill the medical tents. The air smells of herbs… and blood.
Wolves move slower. Speak less. Watch more.
Because now—
They know.
The enemy didn’t win the battle.
But they knew how to.
And that means one thing.
Someone among them is feeding the war.
Aria stands at the center of the command tent, the bloodstained cloth laid out before her.
The battle plans stare back at her.
Familiar.
Precise.
Betrayed.
Kael stands beside her, arms crossed, jaw tight.
“We limit information,” he says. “Only a select few get access to strategy from now on.”
Aria doesn’t respond immediately.
Her eyes remain on the map.
“They already had access,” she says qu
