Roots of Betrayal

Rae’s fingers tightened around the strap of her bag as she stepped closer to the door, eyes narrowed. The scent of damp wood, decaying cloth, and something metallic wafted from the crack between the doorframe.

She knelt beside Aspen and whispered, her voice low but sharp, “Reste prêt, ma belle. Garde les oreilles ouvertes. Attaque si j’te dis.”

(Stay ready, my girl. Keep your ears open. Attack if I tell you.)

Aspen gave a soft, rumbling growl in response, her body tense and ears perked. She sat just off the porch but ready to spring at a word.

Will raised an eyebrow. “That was Cajun?”

Rae didn’t look at him. “She knows my voice best that way. It means something when it’s home.”

Remi stepped in beside her, one hand resting just above the sidearm at her hip. “Let’s move.”

Trey pushed the door open first. It groaned on its hinges, and the smell inside hit them like a wave—mold, iron, and something chemical.

They entered slowly, boots silent against warped floorboards. Dust hung in the air like ghosts. Papers were scattered everywhere—most of them shredded or burned along the edges. Broken glass crunched beneath Will’s heel as he swept his flashlight toward a collapsed desk.

“Someone left in a hurry,” he muttered.

“No,” Rae corrected, her gaze scanning the chaos. “Someone trashed this. They didn’t leave—they cleaned.”

Remi nodded. “They were covering their tracks.”

Rae’s attention snapped to a scorched briefcase half-buried under a toppled chair. She yanked it free, popping the lock. Empty—except for a small, sealed hard drive tucked in the false lining.

“Found something.” She held it up. “I can crack this—give me time.”

Suddenly, Aspen barked sharply from outside, low and warning.

Rae’s head whipped toward the window. “Someone’s out there.”

Trey was already moving toward the back, while Will covered the front. Remi touched Rae’s arm. “Stay behind me.”

“I’ve got a stun stick and a laptop full of classified dirt,” Rae muttered. “I’m good.”

But before anyone could respond, a shadow moved past the side window. Then another. Aspen lunged from the edge of the porch with a vicious snarl.

Aspen launched like a bolt of lightning.

The first attacker barely had time to raise a weapon before she slammed into him, teeth snapping around the arm he tried to shield himself with. He screamed and dropped his blade as Aspen dragged him to the ground, her growl deep and guttural. A second figure tried to flank her, but she whirled, tail swiping his legs out from under him with a practiced grace that showed just how well she was trained.

Will and Trey were already moving, weapons drawn, backing up Aspen. Remi threw her hand out to keep Rae behind the broken porch wall, but Rae was already digging through her bag with fierce focus.

“Three of them,” Will shouted. “Fourth just ran—north tree line!”

“I got this one!” Trey said, pinning a writhing attacker under his knee and pressing a blade to his throat.

Aspen snarled again but backed off when Rae whistled once, sharp and low. She sat, teeth bared and ready, but still—watching.

Rae moved quickly to the man Trey held down. “Get him up. Against that post.”

Trey raised an eyebrow but complied, dragging the man upright and slamming him against one of the porch beams. Blood ran from his mouth, and his eyes darted between the wolves like a caged animal.

Remi stepped closer, but Rae shook her head. “I’ve got this.”

She crouched in front of him, calm but unblinking. “Your name?”

He spat at her feet.

She didn’t flinch. Instead, she reached into her bag, pulled out a slim black device, and tapped the screen. “Then let’s talk about these.”

She turned the screen so he could see. His face paled.

“Search history,” she said, tapping to scroll through page after page. “Encrypted messages. IP pings to my swamp. Coordinates to our hospital. Even footage from the alley attack two nights ago. That’s a hell of a trail, and you’re not smart enough to cover it.”

He looked like he might bolt, but Rae leaned in.

“You were sloppy. And if you think they’re going to protect you now, you’re dumber than you look. So here’s what happens. You start talking, or I start digging deeper—and when I’m done, I’ll hand this over to every pack leader from here to the Rockies with your name attached to it.”

He blinked. Swallowed.

“Who sent you?” Rae asked again, voice ice cold.

“…I don’t know their name,” he muttered.

“Then tell me who pays you. Who gave you that swamp location. Who told you to plant wolfvine.”

He hesitated—then gave a single name.

Rae’s eyes darkened, but she didn’t say a word. She just stood up slowly and looked to the others. “We’ve got our link.”

“Is it a council name?” Will asked.

Rae met his eyes. “Not one of the new ones. But someone high enough to have old codes and dirty connections.”

Aspen gave a low whine and nudged Rae’s leg, and she exhaled, brushing a hand over the dog’s head.

“Good girl. We’re not done yet.”

And the fight was on.