Chapter 4 Planning - Marcus’ POV
The effect on the remaining rogues was immediate. Without their leader, the already loose coordination shattered. Some fled immediately, while others fought on singly, quickly overwhelmed by organised teams of my warriors.
Within minutes, it was over. The survivors disappeared back across the border, leaving their dead behind—a testament to the absence of pack bonds that would have compelled them to retrieve their fallen.
I shifted back to human form, my body aching from a dozen wounds that were already beginning to heal. Around me, warriors did the same, some helping the wounded, others standing guard in case the rogues returned.
"Report," I called to Karin, who approached with blood running from a gash above her eye.
"Five dead," she said grimly. "Elias, Tomas, Faye, Devon, and Jared. Twenty-three wounded, eight severely."
I closed my eyes briefly. Five dead. Five pack bonds severed, their absence already a dull ache in my chest. Five families who would be grief-stricken by nightfall. And twenty-three wounded, out of only sixty trained warriors.
"Get the wounded back to the pack house," I ordered, surveying the battlefield. "Have the medical team ready."
The journey back was somber, our victory hollowed by loss. We carried our dead with reverence, their bodies draped over the shoulders of their packmates. The wounded limped alongside or were supported between stronger wolves. As we approached the pack house, I saw my Luna, Elena, organising the medical response, her normally perfectly styled hair hastily pulled back, her face set with determination.
"The dining hall has been converted to a triage center," she informed me, her eyes cataloging my injuries with clinical efficiency. "Dr. Morrow and his team are ready."
I nodded and followed the procession inside, where chaos had been transformed into ordered urgency. Tables had been cleared to serve as examination beds, and the medical team moved between them with practiced precision. Pack members who weren't warriors but had medical training had been pressed into service, bandaging less severe wounds and preparing supplies.
And then I saw her—the wolfless one, Amelia, her thin frame moving between the wounded, carrying bandages and water. Her hands were steady as she helped clean a deep gash on a young warrior's leg, her face composed despite the blood and gore surrounding her. She worked quickly, efficiently, without the revulsion or hesitation one might expect from someone so often sheltered from pack business.
I paused, watching her move to the next patient without being told, anticipating the doctor's needs before he voiced them. For a wolfless one, she showed unusual composure in a crisis. An idea began to form in my mind—one that could solve several problems at once.
"Elena," I called, motioning my Luna over. "Meet me in my office in ten minutes."
She nodded, understanding the gravity in my tone. I made my way through the pack house, acknowledging the concerned looks from pack members with stoic nods. They needed to see strength, not doubt. Not fear. By the time I reached my office on the top floor, I had made my decision.
I closed the door behind me and went straight to my desk, picking up the secure satellite phone we used for official pack business. The number I needed was programmed in, though I had never had cause to use it before. Pride had kept me from seeking outside help, but pride wouldn't keep my pack alive.
The line rang three times before connecting.
"Brecc," came the answer, a single word spoken in a deep, emotionless voice.
"Alpha King Aleksandr," I replied, forcing respect into my tone despite the humiliation of what I was about to do. "This is Alpha Marcus Blackwater of the Frozen Mountain Pack."
A pause. "I know who you are, Blackwater. What do you want?"
No pleasantries, no diplomatic niceties. The Alpha King's reputation for bluntness was apparently well-earned.
"My pack was attacked at dawn," I said, getting straight to the point. "Rogues. Forty or more, well-coordinated. We repelled them, but suffered significant casualties."
"And?" The voice remained impassive, unimpressed.
"And we have reason to believe they'll return with greater numbers." I gripped the phone tighter. "The Southern Valley rogues have been growing in strength for months. This was their first direct assault on pack territory."
"You're not the only border pack reporting increased rogue activity," he conceded. "What exactly are you asking for, Blackwater?"
I took a breath. "An alliance. Military support to secure our borders, medical resources for our wounded."
The door opened quietly as Elena slipped in, her questioning gaze meeting mine. I gestured for her to sit.
"Alliances require mutual benefit," the Alpha King replied after a moment. "What does the Frozen Mountain Pack offer the crown?"
This was the opening I'd been waiting for. "Resources. Access to our silver mines. A percentage of our timber harvests."
"I have silver. I have timber." His dismissal was immediate. "Try again."
I locked eyes with Elena, who had gone still at the tone of the conversation. She knew, as I did, what was coming.
'Tell him about the girl,' Rennick urged. 'It's our only card left to play.'
"What I need," the Alpha King continued into the silence, "is a new bride. Someone of mating age, untouched by previous claims."
"We have an unmated young woman," I said without hesitation. "She's twenty, nearly twenty-one. She'll reach full mating age in two weeks."
Elena's eyebrows rose slightly, but she didn't interrupt. She knew exactly who I meant.
"Name?" The Alpha King's voice had shifted, a hint of interest breaking through the indifference.
"Amelia Lovelace."
A pause. "The orphan your Luna found years ago?"
I was surprised he knew of her at all, but information was the currency of power in pack politics. Of course he would know the backgrounds of key members in all the major packs.
"Yes," I confirmed. "But she's healthy, and of age. She'll make a suitable bride."
What I didn't say was that she was expendable. That as a wolfless one, she had no real value to our pack beyond the menial labour she provided. That sending her to the Alpha King—notorious for his brutal treatment of those who displeased him—was no great loss to us.
"Interesting." The word hung in the air for a moment. "Very well. Bring her to the Royal City tomorrow. We'll meet, and if she's acceptable, we have an agreement."
"Tomorrow?" I had expected a longer negotiation, more demands.
"Tomorrow," he repeated, his tone brooking no argument. "I'll send coordinates for your arrival. And Blackwater?"
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"Make sure she understands what she's coming to. I won't tolerate hysterics or attempts to flee once she's here."
The line went dead before I could respond. I set the phone down and looked at Elena, whose expression had shifted from concern to calculation.
"Amelia?" she asked, though it wasn't really a question. "You're giving the Alpha King our wolfless servant?"
"She'll reach mating age in two weeks," I said with a shrug. "And we need this alliance. The rogues won't stop with one attack."
Elena leaned back in her chair, a small, cold smile forming on her lips. "Well. After twelve years of feeding and housing her, it seems the wolfless one might finally be useful."
"Indeed." I returned her smile. "Have her cleaned up and packed by morning. We leave at first light."
"She'll be ready," Elena promised, standing. "Should I tell her what's happening?"
I considered this briefly. "Tell her she's being taken to the Royal City for service. No need to specify what kind of service just yet. I don't want her trying anything foolish overnight."
Elena nodded and headed for the door, then paused. "It's almost poetic, isn't it? The girl we took in out of charity, now saving the pack that rescued her."
I didn't bother pointing out that any gratitude Amelia might have felt for us had likely died years ago, beaten out of her alongside her dignity. It didn't matter. By this time tomorrow, she would be the Alpha King's problem, and we would have the protection we desperately needed.
"Poetic," I agreed, turning to the window where the first bodies of our fallen were being prepared for the funeral rites. "Let's just hope the Alpha King finds her to his liking."
Because if he didn't, we would all pay the price.