Chapter 34: The Mole

The holding room smelled of stale sweat and fear. Elena stood with her back against the wall, watching Kael sit in the single metal chair under the harsh fluorescent light. His beta wolf, Marcus's former second, now a traitor—or so they believed. His hands were unbound. Damon had insisted on that, a show of trust that Elena found reckless. But she understood the game. If they treated him like a prisoner, he'd retreat into wolfish pride. If they treated him like an ally who'd made a terrible mistake, he might talk. Damon leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his dark eyes fixed on Kael with a stillness that made the air heavy. He hadn't said a word in the ten minutes since they'd entered. Elena knew that silence was a weapon. She'd felt it herself, those first weeks in the penthouse, when his quiet scrutiny had stripped her defenses layer by layer. Kael shifted in his chair, his jaw tight. "I told you everything I know. The Crimson Fang reached out to me six months ago. I didn't go to them. They came to me with proof—photos, documents, recordings. They said you were working with Marcus Vance, Alpha. That you were going to sell the pack out from under us." "And you believed them," Elena said. Her voice was calm, deliberate. She'd learned that from Damon too. "Without coming to Damon. Without asking for the truth." "The truth?" Kael laughed, but it was hollow. "The truth is that your father has been feeding information to the Crimson Fang for years. And you—you're his daughter. You show up a few months ago, and suddenly the pack is under attack from the inside. What was I supposed to think?" "That I might be on your side," Elena said. She pushed off the wall and walked closer, stopping a few feet from him. "You said they gave you proof. Where is it now?" Kael's eyes flickered. "I destroyed it. After I realized I'd been played." "Convenient." Damon's voice was low, rough. He didn't move from the door, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop. "You expect me to believe that a beta with twenty years of service would destroy evidence of a conspiracy without first bringing it to his alpha?" Kael's face reddened. "I was ashamed. I thought I could handle it myself. I thought I could find enough proof to expose the mole without admitting I'd been stupid enough to trust the Fang." "And did you?" Elena asked. "Find the mole?" Silence. Kael's hands clenched on his knees. Finally, he said, "Yes." Damon straightened, taking a step into the room. "Who?" "Elder Marcus." The name hit the air like a slap. Elder Marcus, the pack's oldest living council member, a wolf who had served three alphas. "Not Marcus Vance. Marcus the Elder. He's been feeding pack movements to the Fang for two years. He's the reason they knew where to strike during the last full moon. He's the one who gave them the security codes for the armory." Elena's heart slammed once. She remembered Elder Marcus—a thin, quiet wolf with silver-streaked hair, always polite, always at the edge of gatherings. He'd been at the meeting where Damon had first introduced her to the pack. He'd smiled at her. "How do you know?" "Because I followed him. Three nights ago, after the attack on the warehouse, I saw him slip out of the compound. He met with a Crimson Fang courier in the old mill district. I recorded it." Kael reached into his pocket, and Damon tensed. But Kael only pulled out a small drive. "It's all there. The exchange. The codes. Everything." Damon took the drive, his fingers brushing Kael's. "If this is real, you should have come to me the moment you saw it." "I know. I'm sorry." Kael's voice cracked. "I was afraid you'd think I was part of it. That I'd been compromised. I wanted to have proof before I spoke." Elena studied him. The shame in his posture seemed genuine, but she'd learned that guilt could be a mask. "There's something you're not telling us." Kael's eyes met hers, and she saw a flash of something—fear, maybe. "Elder Marcus isn't working alone. He has a contact inside the compound. Someone close to you, Alpha. I don't know who. But the recording mentions a 'she' who will ensure the next strike succeeds." Damon's expression locked down. "A woman." "Yes." Her thoughts snapped through every possibility. The pack had dozens of women—warriors, council members, mates. Any one of them could be the mole. But the way Kael said it, the way he avoided looking at her, made her stomach twist. "You think it's me." "No," Kael said quickly. "But the Fang wants us to suspect you. That's why they planted the evidence against you. They want Damon to turn on you, to weaken him with doubt." "That's enough." Damon stepped between them, his hand landing on Elena's shoulder. "We'll deal with Elder Marcus tonight. Kael, you're confined to quarters until this is resolved. If the recording checks out, you'll have my trust again. If not..." He let the threat hang. Kael nodded, rising. "I understand." After he left, Elena turned to Damon. "You believe him?" "Partially. The recording will tell us the rest." He pulled out his phone, already typing orders. "I'm sending a team to bring Elder Marcus in. If he resists, we'll know." "And if he doesn't?" "Then we have a different problem." Damon's eyes met hers, and she saw the weight of leadership in them. "Stay close tonight. Don't go anywhere alone." "I can take care of myself." "I know. But the Fang wants you isolated. I won't give them that satisfaction." An hour later, the team returned with Elder Marcus in chains. He didn't fight. He didn't deny the accusations. As they led him past Elena, he spat at her feet. "You'll burn this pack to the ground, just like your father wanted." His hand shot out, grabbing the elder by the collar. "Say that again, and I'll tear out your tongue." Elder Marcus smiled, blood on his teeth. "You're too late, Alpha. The trap is already set." Before anyone could react, an explosion ripped through the east wing. The building shuddered, lights flickered, and alarms screamed. Elena was thrown against the wall, her ears ringing. Damon was already moving, pulling her up, shouting orders. "Get to the bunker! Now!" But as they ran through the smoke-filled corridors, she saw the bodies—pack members, wounded, some dead. The trap had been meant to kill, and it had succeeded. In the chaos, a messenger found them, breathless, holding a phone. "For you, Miss Vance. It's your father." Elena took the phone, her hand steady despite the tremor in her heart. Marcus Vance's voice came through, smooth as silk. "Your sister is now my heir. If you want the pack, come get it." The line went dead.