Chapter One Hundred and Eighty Seven
Chapter One Hundred and Eighty Seven
I recounted everything Alpha Derek had told me to Austin and Phil.
“From one perspective, he’s right,” Phil said. “Marrying an Alpha–especially one as powerful as Derek–would be the best option. But,” he added, thankfully before I could unleash my fury on him for even suggesting it, “you were right to reject the proposal. He has no right to force a marriage on you. He threatened you, giving you a choice… which sounds much like a form of surrender.”
“Yes. Surrender. That’s what his proposal was. And if there’s one thing the Nightshade Pack is known for, it’s that we don’t surrender. That won’t change now.”
“What do we do?” Austin asked me.
I would have told him to check with those we have alliances with; maybe I could convince some to help, and in return I could reward them, but there was, of course, some truth in what Alpha Derek had said: if I did ask for help, they would believe that Alexander was really gone and the pack was defenseless.
This wasn’t a matter of pride. I was well aware that not many are as ‘honorable‘ as Derek; if they believed we were defenseless, they would attack without any form of warning.
“Derek had informed me they would be attacking, but we can’t tell when. It could be two days from now or two months from now.” I said.
“Something tells me it will be soon.” Phil said. “He knows the more he tarries, the more the chances that others might try their luck and, ‘as he believes,‘ claim the pack.”
Phil was right.,
“We need to make sure our soldiers are battle–ready. We need as many fighters as we can gather, and we need all our commanders‘ hands on deck,” I said. Then, a thought crossed my mind. I knew someone who was an expert in battle strategy–someone wasting away in the dungeons. “Send a letter to the Empress Cynthia; inform her that I would like to have a word with her.”
My advisors didn’t question why I was asking for the Empress, even though werewolves had no ties to the people of Aureonna City. In fact, Cynthia’s arrival was a gamble–but one I had to take.
After dismissing them, I headed to the dungeons where Arid had been kept. He looked worse each time I came. His beard had grown wild and unkempt, his hair just as disheveled. His eyes were dull, his lips cracked and drier than a desert, and the stench only made it worse
“Kai–da,” he called, his voice rough, as if speaking was a struggle. I tossed him a bottle of water, and he grabbed it with shaky hands. Fumbling with the cap, he drank like it was the water of life, some of it spilling over his face. and dripping down his jaw. But he didn’t stop until the bottle was empty. “Thank you,” he murmured, setting the bottle down.
“A war is coming, and I need my commander. You don’t deserve this mercy I’m granting to you, but I swear, if you make me regret this, then I promise you, Aric, I will kill you in the worst possible way imaginable.”
“I will do anything to help. I won’t fail you–I promise.”
“Your promises mean nothing to me.
“I know. And I know my words hold no weight. But still, I want you to know this–I will protect you and this pack until my dying breath. I swear it.”
“The guards will escort you to your room. You will change out of those filthy rags. You will be fed and bathed–if you prefer, the maids can assist you. And once you’re presentable, you will meet me. Let’s talk tactics.”
