Cass’s POV

"Eight stabs to the chest?" Garret asked, his voice tight.

The pack doctors were still hovering over the body of one of our house guards. The metallic tang of blood filled the room, clashing with the sterile smell of antiseptic.

"A silver blade," Beck noted, his brow furrowed. "It was professional. Clean."

"A murder investigation now?" I muttered, feeling the pressure mount. "We’re already fighting a war on two fronts, and now we have an assassin under our own roof?"

Archie, our beta, stepped forward. "I’ll handle it, Alpha. Let me track whoever did this."

I gave him a sharp nod. "Do it. Quietly."

We gathered in the war room, the atmosphere grim. Oliver was still a ghost, and the suspicion that a traitor was feeding him information hung in the air like a noose.

"Beck, find the leak," I ordered, feeling the authority settle into my bones. It was strange—the mantle of Alpha, which I had dreaded, felt almost natural. When I stumbled, Victor’s silent encouragement was enough to steady me.

"And Ezra?" Beck asked.

I thought of him—the man I had once thought I loved, the man I now wanted to break with my bare hands. "We watch him," I decided, catching Colt’s approving gaze. "He’s looking for allies; he wants us to strike out of anger. We won't give him that satisfaction. We wait until he slips."

After the meeting, I had one final demand. "Victor, tear down the reform camp. No one else deserves the cruelty I endured."

"Warrick won't like it," Victor warned.

"I don't care," I said, my voice flint-hard. "I'm the Alpha in charge now. Get it done."

Colt caught me in the hallway afterward, his touch grounding me. I was terrified to tell him about the baby—the fear that he would wrap me in cotton wool and lock me away was real—but I knew I couldn't hide it forever. Not when my hunger was becoming impossible to disguise.

We traveled to Ellsworth to meet Honora. The witch’s shop was exactly as I remembered: stale incense and secrets.

"The holding sigil I inscribed on your chest when you were a newborn," Honora explained, her eyes piercing. "It kept your wolf soul from tearing your body apart before you were ready to shift. But now, it’s acting as a cage, suppressing the very power you need to lead."

"Can you break it?" I asked.

Honora hesitated, her gaze darting to my midsection. "The ritual is strenuous. It shouldn't affect what you carry, but the risk is never zero."

Colt’s head snapped toward me. "What you carry?"

Honora blinked, her expression unreadable. "The

power

she carries. It is a fragile thing, and the transition might be volatile."

She was quick, I’d give her that. Once Colt and Lotus were forced out of the room, I pressed her for the truth.

"How bad is the risk?"

"If your body is strong, your child will be fine," she said softly. "But you are an Alpha. Your blood is a battlefield of its own. It is your choice, Azalea."

The weight of that choice followed me all the way back to the car. I leaned my head against Colt’s shoulder, exhausted by the secrets and the impending danger.

"Lotus, how is my father really?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"He’s fighting," she replied, "but the wolfbane was deep. He may never be the man he once was."

Colt scoffed. "He’s a survivor. He’ll make it to a hundred percent."

Before I could answer, Colt’s phone erupted with a jarring ringtone. He answered, listened for a moment, and his face drained of color.

"Damn it," he hissed, ending the call.

"What?" I asked, a cold dread pooling in my gut. "What happened?"

"Another body," he said, his voice grim. "Found just minutes ago."