Wolves of Betrayal

Chapter : 9. Echos of the past..

Amara sat there in the silence, her mind a whirl of emotions. She could hear the low rumble of voices downstairs growing louder, the urgency of the situation pressing in on her from all sides. She knew what this meant—Killian wasn’t going to back down. This was only the beginning.

She took a deep breath, her heart heavy. She couldn’t just sit here while the pack prepared for a fight that she had brought to their doorstep. She had to do something, to find a way to help, even if it meant confronting the very fear that had kept her running for so long.

As she lay back down, her body exhausted but her mind racing, she knew that there were decisions she would need to make. Choices that could change everything. She just hoped she had the strength to see them through.

The sun had dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows over the Nightshade Packhouse and painting the forest in hues of deep gold and crimson. Inside the packhouse, the tension had only grown more palpable. The council meeting had stretched on for hours, and the wolves who weren’t part of it lingered nearby, their ears pricked for any sound that might signal a resolution—or another threat.

Amara lay in her room, her leg propped up on a pillow as Helena had instructed, but rest was elusive. Her mind spun with the whispers and murmurs drifting up from below, with thoughts of what Killian might do next. He had always been unpredictable, a storm that could change course in an instant, but now his obsession with her had driven him to new extremes. She could feel the weight of the pack’s unease pressing down on her, and her own fears only magnified it.

She shifted uncomfortably, her leg aching beneath the tight bandages. Helena’s healing poultices had worked quickly to dull the pain, but the memory of the fight was still fresh. She could still see the flashes of teeth and claws, still hear the snarls and growls as the wolves tore into one another, all because of her. A surge of guilt twisted in her stomach, and she closed her eyes, willing herself to calm down.

The door creaked open softly, and Amara’s eyes snapped open. She relaxed slightly when she saw Darius standing in the doorway, his expression weary but resolute. The council meeting must have finally ended. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, the intensity there took her breath away. He looked like a man carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Hey,” he said softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “How are you holding up?”

Amara sat up a bit straighter, wincing slightly at the pull in her leg. “I’m okay,” she replied, though she knew he could see through the lie. “How did the meeting go?”

Darius ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening. “As well as could be expected,” he said, moving to sit beside her on the edge of the bed. “The pack is on high alert. We’re organizing additional patrols around the borders, doubling the guards. We can’t take any chances.”

Amara nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of his words. She could see the strain on his face, the exhaustion etched into every line. “I’m sorry, Darius,” she said quietly, her voice trembling. “I never wanted this. I never wanted to bring my problems here.”

Darius’s gaze softened, and he reached out, taking her hand in his. “This isn’t your fault, Amara,” he said firmly. “You didn’t ask for any of this, and you certainly didn’t ask for Killian’s madness. You’re part of this pack now, and that means we stand by you.”

Tears stung at the corners of her eyes, and she blinked them away, her throat tightening with emotion. “I just… I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me,” she whispered.

Darius squeezed her hand, his thumb brushing lightly over her skin. “We’ll protect you, Amara. I promise you that.”

A knock on the door interrupted them, and Helena’s voice came through, calm but urgent. “Alpha, I need a word.”

Darius sighed, giving Amara’s hand one last squeeze before standing. “I’ll be right back,” he said, his tone reassuring. As he opened the door, Helena stood waiting, her expression grave. She motioned for Darius to step into the hallway, and Amara could hear their hushed conversation, though she couldn’t make out the words.

Curiosity piqued, Amara strained to listen, but all she could catch were snippets—mentions of scouts, of sightings near the border, of concerns that made her pulse quicken with anxiety. She couldn’t stand being left in the dark, not when everything felt so precarious. She swung her legs over the side of the bed again, testing her weight. The pain was sharp, but she gritted her teeth and forced herself to stand.

She limped toward the door, moving quietly so as not to alert them. As she reached it, she pressed her ear against the wood, listening more intently.

“…a small group, just beyond the western ridge,” Helena was saying, her voice low. “They’re keeping their distance for now, but it’s too close for comfort. Killian could be planning something more aggressive.”

“Or he’s just testing our defenses,” Darius replied, his voice tight with frustration. “Trying to see how we’ll react.”

Amara’s heart sank. Killian wasn’t going to back down. If anything, he was getting bolder, pushing closer to their territory with every passing hour. She knew what that meant. She had seen it before—the way he played his games, the way he wore down his enemies until they were too tired, too broken to resist.

She had to do something. She couldn’t keep hiding behind others while they fought her battles. She needed to be strong, needed to face this head-on. But how? Her mind raced, searching for answers, for a way to end this nightmare before it spiraled even further out of control.

The conversation outside the door ended, and she quickly stepped back, wincing as her leg protested the sudden movement. Darius re-entered the room, his expression guarded, and Helena followed closely behind, her sharp eyes immediately noticing Amara’s position by the door.

“You should be resting,” Helena said, her tone firm but not unkind. “Your leg needs time to heal properly.”

Amara nodded, though her mind was still buzzing with everything she’d overheard. “I know,” she said softly, lowering herself back onto the bed. “I just… I want to help. I want to do something.”

Darius’s expression softened, and he came to sit beside her again. “I know you do,” he said gently. “But right now, the best thing you can do is recover. We need you strong and healthy.”

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with determination. “I can’t just sit here while everyone else is out there risking their lives. I need to help, Darius. I have to.”

Helena’s expression was contemplative, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she were considering something. “There may be a way,” she said slowly. “But it’s risky.”

Darius turned to Helena, his brows furrowed. “What are you thinking?”

Helena glanced between them, her eyes sharp and assessing. “Amara’s connection to Killian—his obsession—it might be the key to understanding his next move. If she could focus, try to remember anything he said or did that might give us a clue about his plans, it could help us anticipate his next attack.”

Amara’s heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t expected this. “You mean… try to think like him?” she asked, her voice tinged with both fear and curiosity.

“Not exactly,” Helena clarified. “But you knew him better than any of us. You know how he thinks, how he operates. That knowledge could give us an edge.”

Darius’s eyes darkened with concern. “I don’t want to put her through that,” he said firmly. “She’s been through enough already.”

Amara shook her head. “If it helps keep everyone safe, I’ll do it,” she said, her voice steady. “I’ll try to remember anything that could help.”

Helena nodded approvingly. “Then we should start right away. The more time we waste, the closer he gets.”

Darius looked at Amara, his expression conflicted. He didn’t want to push her, didn’t want to dredge up painful memories, but he also knew they needed every advantage they could get. Finally, he nodded. “Alright,” he said. “But if it gets to be too much, you stop. Promise me that.”

Amara met his gaze, her eyes unwavering. “I promise.”