Chapter 47
The atmosphere in the Silver Moon Pack had changed since the attack. The moment Tyler heard about the rogue breaking into our territory and trying to kill me, he snapped. Within hours, he had doubled the security. Warriors patrolled the packhouse day and night. Guards were stationed outside my room, outside the nursery, everywhere.
No one could come in or out without being checked. I should have felt safe. But instead, I felt restless. Because none of this answered the real question.
Who let the rogue in?
I had suspicions. At first, I even thought about Tyler. He had the most control here. If he wanted me dead, he could have easily made it happen. But then, I ruled him out. Because if there was one thing I was sure of, it was that Tyler was overprotective as hell. He wasn’t the type to send an assassin. He was the type to burn the world down to protect what was his.
Which meant—someone else was behind it.
And I needed to figure out who.
I spent the afternoon in the nursery, sitting on the soft rug with my nephew, Jonathan, in my lap.
He giggled as he grabbed my fingers, his tiny hands so delicate, so innocent.
I didn’t know what kind of father Alex would be, but Jonathan… he deserved a good life. One free from the chaos and betrayal that seemed to follow me everywhere.
I tickled his belly, making him burst into another fit of laughter.
“You’re such a happy little thing, aren’t you?” I whispered, brushing my fingers over his soft hair. But before I could get lost in the moment, a loud commotion echoed from outside.
Shouts. Gasps. People rushing toward the gates.
I frowned, lifting Jonathan into his crib before walking to the window. Down in the courtyard, a crowd had gathered. At the center of it stood a hooded figure, cloaked in dark robes.
My stomach tightened. A clairvoyant.
I had heard about them—mystics with the ability to see the past, present, and future. But what was one doing here?
I needed to find out. I turned back to Jonathan, brushing his cheek lightly. “Stay here, little one. I’ll be right back.”
Then, I grabbed a cloak and headed outside. By the time I reached the courtyard, the energy in the air was tense, suffocating.
Pack members whispered among themselves, their faces filled with unease. Tyler stood at the front, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. His warriors were on edge, ready to attack if necessary.
I pushed through the crowd, stopping beside him.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
He didn’t look at me. “She claims she has a message.”
I turned to the clairvoyant, taking in the way she stood—still, poised, like she was waiting for the right moment. The air around her felt charged, electric. And then, in a voice that sent a chill down my spine, she spoke.
“There is a traitor in the Silver Moon Pack.”
The crowd erupted. Gasps. Murmurs. People shifting uncomfortably. Tyler stiffened beside me.
His voice was cold, deadly. “Who?”
The clairvoyant lifted her gaze, her pale, cloudy eyes unreadable. “I do not know their name.”
Tyler’s hands curled into fists. “Then what good are you?”
She ignored him, turning her head slightly—toward me. Her clouded eyes met mine, and suddenly, it felt like I was being seen in a way I never had before.
“The one who want you dead is closer than you think.”
