The air in the pack's camp was thick and filled with unease. Whispers traveled faster than the wind, each carrying a different version of the same story—betrayal, rebellion, and the worries of a coup within her pack. Aveline walked her quarters endlessly, her mind a mixture of doubts and decisions.
The note remained in her pocket, its threatening words kept repeating in her mind: "The coup begins at dawn. Choose wisely, or everyone dies."
Gabriel stood firmly at one corner, with his arms crossed and eyes fixed on her. "You've just remained quiet for too sometime now," he said, his voice filled with true care for her. "What's the plan?" he asked.
She turned to face him, her frustration coming to the surface. "The plan? How am I supposed to make a plan when I don't know who to trust? When I don't even know if you're telling me the absolute truth?"
Gabriel's jaw tightened, but he maintained her gaze. "You know where my loyalty lies, Aveline."
