“Are you going to let her talk about our packs like this? This woman,” the young Lycan next to me howls.
I haven’t bothered to learn his name yet, but his rash outburst only makes me smirk.
“I suggest you watch your tone when speaking about a lady, or you might not make it back to your packs,” Colton says, his amusement mirroring mine.
“I’m not afraid of you. You Fae think you’re so tough,” the young man retorts.
I stifle a chuckle, reaching for a glass of water to mask it.
“Oh, it’s not me you should be afraid of,” Colton laughs, glancing at Drew, whose red eyes now glow ominously in the dim light, though her expression remains impassive.
“Ryder, enough,” Rhett says, and I struggle even more to contain my amusement. Rhett and Ryder, these young boys really are in over their heads.
“Quite enough, I think,” I interject, setting my glass down and sitting up straighter. “You may believe whatever you like. I need to know if you will fight withus or not. If you prefer to stay out of this, I can have my men escort you back to the Lycan Realm now, and no harm will come to you. It’s your choice.”
My gaze remains fixed on Rhett as he deliberates for a few moments before responding. “As I told Lyra before, I do not wish to be her enemy, but that doesn’t make me her ally either. The Lycans wish to remain out of this war. Enough death and destruction have come to our packs in trying to protect the realms from the evil creatures once confined to the Shifting Forest.”
He rises, Ryder quickly following. “No longer will my people die protecting Sorcerers, Lamia, or Fae alike. It’s time we look out for ourselves. May Bellor be with you in the coming days,” he says, surprising me by invoking the god of war. The Lycans are so often fixated on the moon’s powers. I hadn’t realized they held such reverence for the other gods.
I nod once to Rhett as Bim walks him out and speaks to the men outside, the ones who will channel them back home. When Bim returns and sits next to me, I let out a sigh.
“Well, fuck,” Bim mutters.
I look around at those who remain—Bim, Colton, Drew, Dorian, and myself will be the ones planning and delegating for the rest of this meeting.
“We didn’t need them. It’s better this way. The Lycans are unpredictable anyway,” I remark, scanning the table.
“Do you think they will choose to fight for Samael?” Dorian asks.
“Not if they know what’s good for them,” Colton replies sharply.
“No offense, King Onyx, but I believe it would be unwise for us to enter this battle assuming victory is guaranteed,” Drew begins, her voice steady and earnest. “While it’s crucial for us to maintain a positive outlook, there’s a fine linebetween confidence and overconfidence, which could lead us to underestimate our enemy.”
She isn’t wrong. With the forces I’ve gathered, it seems inconceivable that the Sorcerers could defeat us, especially if Samael hasn’t fully regained his strength. However, her caution resonates with a part of me that knows the unpredictability of war.
“Samael will be defeated. I plan to kill him with my own hands for what he’s done to my mate,” Colton declares from beside her, his use of the word “mate” making me inwardly cringe.
“Let’s stay focused,” Bim says, smoothing over the growing tension. “I’ll begin by outlining what we know about his whereabouts and the current positioning of his army, based on the latest intelligence our scouts have provided.”
Bim leans in, his eyes scanning the map spread out on the table before us. “Samael has been keeping all of his troops close to home. It seems he’s more concerned with protecting himself than his people,” he states with a hint of disdain.
Colton, standing beside him, mutters under his breath, “No surprise there.”
Bim points to a location on the map, marked with a circle and pin. “He has established two military encampments within Tempest Moon. The first is situated here, outside the castle’s boundary.” His finger lingers on the spot before sliding across the map to another marked location. “The second is further out, positioned right on the border between the Sorcerer and Lycan Realms, near the river.”
I turn to Drew, hoping for any insight she might provide on Samael’s condition. “Drew, do you have any updates on Samael’s state? Has he regained all of his strength since he emerged from hiding? What about Citlali—have you heard from your daughter?”
Drew’s expression tightens slightly, a shadow of discomfort passing over her. “I haven’t spoken to her, but it’s safe to assume Samael is back to full strength. It’s been long enough for him to heal.” She pauses, her voice lowering. “Unfortunately, my daughter has persuaded some of her old friends to join her cause.”
The room falls silent for a moment, all eyes on Drew. She straightens her shoulders in her chair, and Colton sits back down next to her, a resolute look crossing her face. “Don’t worry. The Lamia will fight alongside you. I will personally join you with my best warriors. However, a couple dozen of my own have joined Citlali, and I anticipate they will fight for Samael.”
A couple of dozen might not seem like a significant number, but having witnessed the ferocity of Drew and other Lamia in recent battles against the Sarrol attacks, their prowess is undeniable. The Lamia are vicious fighters. Their loyalty to their own could shift the balance of power if we are not careful.
“The weaponry I have supplied will not disappoint, even against the Lamia,” Dorian declares, his gaze shifting from Drew to me with a confident glint. “I’ve committed my entire stockpile of magic-infused blades to our cause—swords, throwing knives, daggers, you name it. Not to mention, I’ve designed and forged a selection of exceptionally powerful swords for your elite fighters.”
I nod, well aware of Dorian’s reputation for having the best armory in all of Eguina. “I also have something special set aside for each of us,” he adds, a secretive smile playing on his lips.
“So along with physical weapons for close combat, we all have our Fae magic, of course. Were you able to acquire all the bows and arrows you mentioned before?” Colton asks, looking toward Dorian with an expectant raise of hiseyebrows.
