The silence stretched between us, heavy and ominous. The forest felt alive in a way it shouldn’t, every breeze and rustle of leaves sharper against my heightened senses. I kept scanning the treeline, half-expecting a pair of glowing rogue eyes to emerge from the shadows.
“What do you think their endgame is?” I murmured, voice low. It wasn’t really a question meant for an answer, but Mal turned, her expression serious.
“War,” she said simply. “Maybe not tomorrow or the day after, but soon enough. Their leader was cocky tonight because he knew something we didn’t.” She clicked her tongue, her frustration clear. “We haven’t seen the full hand they’re holding.”
The weight of her words made my skin prickle. “Logan said we were a challenge,” I reminded her, mostly for myself. “Maybe they’re watching to see if we break.”
“That, or waiting for us to get comfortable,” she shot back. “Let’s face it, Audrey-packs like ours don’t get second chances. If Logan’s wrong and this is bigger than just rogue skirmishes, they’ll hit us harder next time. We need more than doubled patrols. We need intel.”
“What are you saying?” I asked warily.
Mal sighed, pushing her hands into her jacket pockets. “That we need answers faster than Logan’s plan will get them. That rogue leader isn’t going to tell us anything Logan doesn’t already know.”
The realization slammed into me. “You’re not suggesting we-”
“I am,” she interrupted firmly, her voice sharp. “If we don’t track the rogues ourselves-find out where they’re regrouping and why-they’ll blindside us. You felt it tonight, same as I did.”
“And what happens if we’re caught?” I countered, shaking my head. “Mal, this isn’t like sneaking off to scout deer tracks. Logan will-”
“Logan doesn’t have to know.” Her golden eyes bore into mine, fierce and unyielding. “We’ll be careful. Quick. We’ll go out and find a trail, figure out what they’re planning, and come back before sunrise.”
Before I could protest again, Mal stepped closer, her voice softer but no less determined. “You know I’m right, Audrey. If we sit on our heels and wait, we’ll regret it. You and I can do this. We’re good enough. And besides”-her smirk made a fleeting return-“I’ve seen you fight. I wouldn’t trust anyone else to cover my back.”
She was testing me, and she knew it. Mal’s words settled like a stone in my gut because part of me agreed with her. Every instinct screamed that we were on the brink of something dangerous, something bigger than any of us. Waiting and hoping for answers might keep us alive for another night, but in the long run? It felt like a death sentence.
I hesitated only for a second longer. “Fine,” I muttered. “But if Logan finds out…”
“He won’t,” Mal cut in, her confident grin returning. “Now come on. Before one of the patrols spots us.”
Without waiting for a reply, Mal melted into the treeline, her lithe form barely making a sound. Cursing under my breath, I followed, my heart hammering in my chest. I told myself we were doing the right thing-acting where others wouldn’t, searching for answers Logan couldn’t find on his own.
But that didn’t make it feel any less like a betrayal.
We moved through the forest with practiced ease, our steps silent despite the uneven terrain. Mal took the lead, her sharp senses guiding us, while I scanned the path behind for any sign of pursuit. The world felt darker this far from the den, the thick canopy above blotting out most of the moonlight.
“How much farther do you think the rogues went?” I whispered after nearly an hour.
“Hard to say,” Mal replied over her shoulder. Her golden eyes glimmered as she paused, inhaling deeply through her nose. “But we’re getting close. Smell that?”
I sniffed the air and immediately caught it-a sharp, acrid scent mixed with the earthy tang of blood. It made my skin crawl. “Rogues.”
“Yeah. And not just a couple.” Mal knelt, examining the disturbed ground where several sets of prints overlapped. Some were fresh, others smudged and days old. “They’ve been moving through here regularly. They’re camped nearby.”
My fingers curled instinctively around my dagger. The tension in the air was almost palpable now, an unseen presence watching from the shadows.
“This isn’t just a retreat trail,” I murmured, realization dawning. “This is a supply route.”
Mal’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing. “What?”
“They’ve been here long enough to wear a path through the forest. Look at the footprints-they’re coming and going.” I pointed to the deeper indentations in the mud, evidence of heavy loads being carried. “Food. Weapons. Maybe even reinforcements.”
Mal swore under her breath. “So they’re preparing. But for what?”
“We won’t figure it out standing here,” I said, tightening my grip on my dagger. “Their camp has to be close.”
Mal nodded, her expression hardening. “Follow me.”
We reached the edge of the rogues’ camp just before dawn.
Nestled in a hollow, the camp was larger than I’d ever imagined-several makeshift tents sprawled across the clearing, surrounding a smoldering fire pit. Rogues milled about in ragged clusters, most of them bruised or bloody from past fights, but none looked broken. They looked… ready. As though they were preparing for an attack.
“Logan was right,” I whispered, crouched beside Mal behind the cover of thick brush. “This isn’t chaos. It’s organization.”
“And it gets worse.” Mal nudged me, pointing toward the far end of the camp. My eyes followed her direction, and I sucked in a sharp breath.
A massive, scarred man sat by the fire, surrounded by a group of rogues who deferred to him like soldiers to a general. His face, half-hidden by shadows, was familiar-it was the rogue leader from earlier, very much awake and very much in command.
“How is he even alive?” I muttered. “Logan-he knocked him cold.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Mal said grimly. “What matters is who he’s talking to.”
My gaze shifted to the figure standing in the shadows of a nearby tent. I couldn’t see his face, but the sleek cut of his clothes and the polished way he carried himself told me this wasn’t a rogue. He was human. And rich.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Mal growled, her voice barely audible.
“Funding them,” I guessed, my blood running cold. “That’s why they’re so organized. Someone’s backing them.”
Before I could process what that meant, the rogue leader’s voice rose above the low murmurs of the camp.
“Tonight was the beginning. Castlefield and his pack are strong, but they’ll fall like the others. The human is making sure of it.”
Mal gripped my arm tightly, her nails digging into my skin. “We have to get back,” she whispered. “Logan needs to know about this.”
“Agreed,” I said, though every nerve in my body screamed to keep watching, to learn more. “Let’s move.”
We started to slip back into the trees, but as luck-or fate-would have it, a dry twig snapped beneath Mal’s boot.
Every rogue in the camp froze. Then a guttural snarl ripped through the clearing.
“Run,” Mal hissed.
We didn’t wait for the rogues to figure out where we were. Mal sprinted into the shadows, and I followed, my heart in my throat as furious howls erupted behind us.
The rogues were coming. And this time, they wouldn’t stop until we were dead.