“Are we really listening to this?” someone else shouted. “She’s the reason thousands died in the last war!”
“Her strategy won that battle of Yellowstone,” Reina said, her excitement pushing her to her feet. “She risked her life to pull it off.”
Casper and Cheyenne leadership flinched, two spots over. The repercussions of the violations she committed—what some would consider war crimes—was fresh in their minds. Semantics.
“All of us reaped the benefits of her stupidity.” The room went quiet with Finley’s words, and she rolled her eyes at the collective shock. “I hate the bitch, but I’m not ignorant. The casualties we would have suffered in St. Cloud would have wiped us off the map.”
“Maybe it should have,” Aberdeen’s general snickered.
The general of Des Moines snarled in agreement. “Wiped a few thanks to the hound.”
Finley let out a sharp, humorless laugh that sliced through the room. Then, in Finley fashion, she took two strides toward Isabella, and grabbed her knife without so much as a glance. With uncanny preciseness, she hurled it in between the small space between the Aberdeen general’s fingers. It landed with a solidifying thud. His smug expression melted into stunned silence.
“Careful, babe,” Finley said casually, back turned as she walked back to her chair. She sank into it and glanced down at her nails as if the entire exchange had been nothing more than a game. “I’m a little sensitive when it comes to the safety of my people.”
Chairs scraped against the checkered tile floor. The screeching mingled with the stomp of boots and the rise of voices. The room vibrated with tension as arguments erupted, spreading faster than wildfire. We hadn’t even started the real work yet, and we were already so divided. Nevada and Arizona settlements sat motionless, their gazes sharp and assessing. They’d already pledged their loyalty before the meeting began. Now, they were simply wolves watching the herd unravel.
Boise and Twin Falls were the only surprising flips of Salem Territory. Everyone else had either been absorbed by us after the last battle or were determined to be a certain ‘yes’ once it was time to take a vote. The rest of the room, The Expanse, was as predicted—panicked and ultimately useless.
Finley leaned back in her chair, delight radiating from her. Her fingers drummed idly against the table as if she were orchestrating the chaos herself. I wanted to smack her. The sick little curve of a smirk on her annoyingly perfect lips and dance of mischief in her eyes … The chaos around her was her own private entertainment.
The noise level swelled. Voices crashed into each other in a symphony of outrage. Fists slammed against tables. A man in plain clothes, a mayor presumably, Ogden I believe, hurled his chair at the booth next to him. The sound of splintering wood only amplified the turmoil. A woman in uniform sitting next to him shouted over whatever he was saying, the veins bulging in her neck as she jabbed a finger at him.Great. In-fighting.
“Enough!” I barked, but the buzz of the room swallowed it whole.
Finley clapped her hands once, slow and mocking, drawing a few startled glances. “This isfantastic.” Her tone dripped with mockery. “Keep it up, folks. Real inspiring stuff. Think we have a real chance here.”
One of the louder men from Wind River Reservation turned, glaring at her, fists clenched. “You think this is funny?”
Her grin widened. “Oh,honey, I think it’s hilarious.”
The air thickened with the heat of too many bodies and too much anger. That mixed with magic—a recipe for disaster. A ticking bomb waiting to go off. My jaw tightened as I watched their tempers boil over, their unwillingness to stand united blinding them to the stakes.
Alexiares leaned toward me, his voice a low murmur beneath the disarray. “You need to say something.”
“What do you expect me to do?” I muttered back.
“They’re vultures,” he said, gesturing with the tilt of his head. “Pick one off, and the rest fucking disappear.”
Hunter balked. His dark brows pinched his sunburned skin. “That’s not what we discussed.”
The incessant buzz in the room still hadn’t died down. Their voices blended into a static hum of discontent. I took a step closer to Hunter, an exhibit worthy of calm. “Did I not say this plan involves Ronan dying?”
“You did,” he muttered, jaw set.
“By extension, that means all who align themselves with your fatheralsodie,” I continued, letting the weight of my words settle. “And you are aware that this is war now?” I pressed, my gaze sweeping between Hunter and the room beyond him. I forced more confidence to seep into my voice. In truth, I didn’t want to do this anymore than he wanted to watch. “War means taking sides. There is no moreus,them, andRonan. It’s us versus Ronan. His side or our side.”
Hunter held my gaze, eyes swirling that familiar raging storm. “I’m aware.”
“Then you also recall heading a rebellion, then?” Alexiares chimed in, his tone smoother than silk. “Youdoknow that by definition, it means people have to die.”
“It’s in the dictionary,” he added with an infuriatingly reassuring smirk.
Hunter held his silence. It said more words than he was capable. Knowing something was the situationally appropriate thing to do was tremendously different from finding the courage to do it.
“Great,” I said dryly. “Now that we’re all aligned, I’ll have a word with the congregation.”
I locked eyes with Alexiares for a brief second, wanting to run my fingers over his ever present smirk, before stepping forward, my boots heavy against the floor. “If you’re done acting like children, maybe I’ll teach you how to survive,” I called out. My voice cut clean through the noise this time.
