Chapter 45 The Demand
POV: Callum Brennan, then Isla Reid
Location: Isla's Shelter
Time: After Declan's Departure
CALLUM
The crew gathers in Isla's main room. Eleven of us total. Me, Isla, Tom, Marcus and his two fighters, Valentina, Kieran the information broker, Sarah the medic, and two others.
Against Cormac's three hundred wolves. Against vampire allies. Against pack authority backed by Parliament.
The smart play is obvious. I submit. Face judgment. Probably die. Everyone else survives.
But I'm not playing smart anymore. I'm playing survival.
"We need to talk about Cormac's demand," Isla begins. "Twenty-four hours to submit or he escalates. What do we do?"
"We submit." This from Kieran. "Callum presents himself for judgment. Takes responsibility. Saves everyone else."
"That's not submission," I say. "That's execution. Cormac kills me and then comes after all of you anyway. I'm not naive enough to think my death satisfies him."
"So we run?" Tom suggests. "Leave the Rookeries. Go somewhere Cormac can't reach?"
"Where? Every territory in London has pack presence. Every city has vampires. There's nowhere to run that Cormac can't eventually find us." I look at the crew. "Running just delays the inevitable."
"Then what's the alternative?" Marcus asks. "We can't fight three hundred wolves. We're nine fighters plus Isla. That's suicide."
"Maybe. But submission is definitely death. Fighting gives us chance." I pull out a map of the Rookeries. "Cormac won't bring three hundred wolves. Too many. Too visible. He'll bring maybe twenty. Elite enforcers. Wolves he trusts."
"Twenty against nine is still terrible odds," Valentina points out.
"Terrible but not impossible. We've got terrain advantage. We know the Rookeries. Cormac's wolves don't. We've got improvised weapons, defensive positions, willingness to fight dirty." I look at each crew member. "I'm not saying we'll win. I'm saying we have a chance if we fight. Zero chance if we submit."
Isla stands. "Can I talk to Callum privately?"
We step into her office. Isla closes the door.
ISLA
I need to convince Callum to submit. To save himself and everyone else. To stop this before it becomes massacre.
"Callum. You need to present yourself for judgment."
"That's execution. Not judgment."
"Maybe. But it's better than watching everyone die. Better than getting nine wolves killed fighting impossible battle." I move closer. "Submit. Take the punishment. Save everyone else."
"You think Cormac stops if I'm dead? You think he leaves your shelters alone? Leaves the crew alone?" Callum's voice is harsh. "I'm the excuse. Not the reason. Cormac wants to destroy any organization of packless wolves. He wants us divided, desperate, exploitable. Killing me doesn't change that."
"So what do we do?"
"We fight. We make it costly enough that Cormac reconsiders. We prove packless wolves aren't easy prey." Callum looks at me seriously. "You can walk away. Take your shelter residents somewhere safe. Hide until this is over. I won't judge you."
"And abandon you? Abandon the crew? After everything we've built?" I shake my head. "No. If you're fighting, I'm fighting."
"You're a nurse. Not a warrior. You shouldn't be in this battle."
"I'm a werewolf who's survived eighteen months in the Rookeries. I'm tougher than you think." I touch his arm. "Besides. These wolves are mine too. My shelter residents. My responsibility. I'm not hiding while they fight."
Callum studies me. Looking for doubt. Looking for weakness.
He won't find it. I'm terrified but I'm committed. This is worth fighting for.
"Okay. You fight. But you follow my orders. I've got prison combat experience. I know how to fight outnumbered." Callum's voice softens slightly. "And Isla? Thank you. For not giving up. For believing this is worth defending."
We return to the main room. The crew is still debating.
"What did you decide?" Marcus asks.
"We fight," I announce. "All of us. Defending the shelters. Defending each other. Defending what we've built."
"Even though it's suicide?" Kieran sounds skeptical.
"It's only suicide if we give up. If we fight smart, use terrain, coordinate tactics, we have a chance." I look at Callum. "And even if we don't win, we make Cormac pay. We show him that packless wolves aren't helpless."
The crew is silent. Processing. Deciding whether to commit to impossible fight.
Then a pregnant wolf speaks up. Anna. Seven months pregnant. Newly turned two months ago. Living in the shelter because she has nowhere else.
"Callum saved my life. When I was attacked. When I was transforming for the first time. He got me to Isla's shelter. Kept me alive through the worst of it." Anna stands. "I owe him everything. I owe this shelter everything. If Callum's fighting, I'm fighting. For my baby's future."
Another wolf stands. James. Teenager. Seventeen. Parents threw him out when he was turned.
"This shelter is the only home I've had in six months. The only place where people care if I live or die. I'm not letting Cormac destroy that. I'm fighting."
One by one, the crew members stand. Committing. Choosing the fight over submission.
Tom stands. "I'm a thief. Not a warrior. But I've got fae magic that might help. I'm in."
Marcus stands. "I've been in the Rookeries five years. Never had something worth defending before. Now I do. I'm in."
Valentina stands. "Parliament wants me dead anyway. Might as well die fighting for something meaningful. I'm in."
Everyone stands. Everyone commits. Nine wolves plus Isla choosing impossible fight because it's better than submission.
I look at Callum. "You accidentally created a pack."
Callum looks at the crew. At the shelter residents watching from doorways. At the community we've built in three weeks.
"Not a pack. A crew. A resistance. Something different." Callum's voice is firm. "But yeah. Something worth defending."
CALLUM
The crew's committed. Now we need to send a message to Cormac.
I call Declan. He answers immediately.
"Callum. Are you submitting?"
"No. Tell Cormac if he wants me, he comes to the Rookeries. I'm not submitting. I'm not running. If he wants judgment, he brings it here."
"That's declaring war."
"He declared war when he sent five enforcers to attack innocent wolves. I'm just responding." I look at my crew. "Tell him we're ready. Tell him we're waiting. Tell him packless wolves aren't prey anymore."
"You're going to get everyone killed."
"Maybe. Or maybe we make Cormac think twice about attacking us. Either way, we're not submitting." I end the call.
Isla approaches. "That's it then. We're committed."
"We're committed." I address the crew. "Twelve hours until Cormac arrives. Maybe less. We use that time to prepare. Fortify positions. Gather weapons. Plan tactics. When he comes, we're ready."
The crew scatters to begin preparations. I'm left with Isla.
"Do you think we can win?" Isla asks.
"Honestly? No. But I think we can survive. And survival's all I know how to do."
"That's not reassuring."
"It's realistic. Cormac's bringing twenty wolves. We're nine fighters. He's got training and resources. We've got desperation and terrain." I pull out Silas's evidence folder. "But if I die, this goes public. Every piece of evidence proving Cormac framed me. Proving he's corrupt. That's my insurance."
"Who do you give it to?"
"Silas. The body trader. He'll know what to do with it. How to spread it. How to destroy Cormac's reputation even if I'm dead."
"So we win or we burn everything down trying."
"Exactly."
Isla manages a small smile. "I think that's the most honest thing you've said since we met."
"Prison taught me honesty. When everything else is stripped away, truth is all you've got."
The crew works through the night. Preparing. Planning. Building something that might keep us alive when Cormac arrives.
And in the distance, I hear howls. Pack howls. Getting closer.
Cormac's coming. Earlier than expected. Faster than planned.
The war starts now.