Chapter 16 Chapter Sixteen
Be on guard. Fighters never rest~ Xavier Vancei.
Xavier
I play with the ball pen on the table as my brothers give their opinion.
“A straightforward attack is too novel,” Xander puts in, as he leans on his chair, crossing his legs and making quotation marks in the air as he continues. “I want something that screams war.” He says.
Beside him, nibbling on a cone of ice cream which he got from goddess knows where, Xarius counters his words, igniting a glint of rage in Xander’s eyes.
“Of course, you’ll want a blood-filled announcement. Remember that they’re our subjects, our pack. Killing anyone is as good as lessening the members of our own pack, shooting ourselves in the foot. A king is nothing without his kingdom. Clock that.”
We are in the throne room, all alone, and seated round the large meeting table. It feels a bit odd without the others here.
“You’re too soft to be an Alpha. These people need an iron fist,” Xander anger rises, and so does Xarius’ who hates to be looked down upon.
“The problem with you is you don’t know how to differentiate between your underlings and your subjects,” Xarius retorts. Xander gets angry, pushes off his chair and slaps the cone of ice cream from Xarius’ hand, igniting a full-blown rage from the latter.
“Take that back,” Xander growls.
“Sit your ass back down, Brother. I don’t mind doing it for you.” Xarius says, exhibiting a rare level of levelheaded behavior. I’d be fooled if I don’t know that behind that exterior of calmness and nonchalance, is an angry bull who’s waiting to snap. I don’t make an effort to meditate the situation. It’ll be a foolish thing to do. I’m used to it by now, so it’s nothing new.
“I dare you, Xarius Vancei. Make me sit down.” Xander challenges. I can’t help an eye roll.
“I only reserve my strength for worthwhile things, dear brother. It’s of no use provoking me like this,” Xarius drawls. Xander opens his mouth to speak, and I would have loved to know what happens next, if either of them will end up with broken jaw, a broken nose, or what-have-you. Better still, the both of them comes out of the squabble with souvenirs of the fight. Don’t get me wrong. I love my brothers, but sometimes, they annoy me, and during those times, I don’t mind if they have a go at each other’s throats. Unfortunately, the door suddenly pushes open, making a loud creak befitting of such a large door, and two guards rush in with anxious faces. I rise to my feet, and nod in response to their greeting. My brothers stop exchanging words, and also give the guards their attention.
“Speak,” I order.
They bow. “Pardon us for interrupting your discussion, Your Highnesses.” One of them says.
I get impatient. Of course, they know better than interrupting an important discussion.
“I said, speak.” I snap.
“Your Highness, an emissary from Steelfang pack has arrived. He claims to bring good tidings and says he will only speak to the Alphas of the pack.” They report, and I’m astonished. Steelfang? I am no fool, but I can’t make sense of it.
We have been at war, wanting each other’s throats as spoils of war for quite sometime now. It’s simply baffling for an emissary to suddenly appear. I suspect a trap immediately.
“Xavier,” Xarius calls out. He’s asking me what I think.
I exhale slowly. It’ll be a thing of laughter if words go round that we refused to see an emissary of an enemy pack. Everyone will say Blackmoon is weak, and afraid of Steelfang. Goddess fucking forbid.
“Bring him in. We’lll receive him.” I say, and Xander sucks in a breath. But he says nothing until the guards are out of earshot.
“Are you sure?” He questions
I shrug. “Are you afraid?” I retort.
He scoffs. “You wish.”
The emissary is brought in soon enough, and his eyes dart around the throne room as he’s led in. He’s a tall fellow with shaggy brows, black hair packed in a ponytail and a scar that runs below his eyes. His hands are holding onto a parchment of paper, legs hidden in thick boots that click against the ground as he walks briskly in. There’s a look in his eyes that puts me on guard immediately. No matter how good looking a foe is, they’re still a foe.
“Alphas,” he begins, taking a seat even before we invite him to. I push back my words and take a seat. “Thank you for having me.” He says.
“I know you’re wondering what the reason for Steelfang’s sudden visit is. I come as a representative of Steelfang, and whatever happens here can be taken as the exact words of our Alpha.” He informs me.
I am not in the mood for small talks. “Why are you here?” I ask straightforwardly.
He inhales. “Steelfang is proposing peace,” he hands me the paper, and my eyes land on the red spot on the right side, below an agreement of sort. There are also three blank spots on the left side.
“That’s our Alpha’s blood signature, swearing to the truce of peace.” He informs me.
I exchange glances with my brothers, and I can see that they’re thinking what I’m thinking. Truth be told, fighting against Steelfang was as disadvantageous to us as it was to them. This agreement—sneaky as it may seem from the surface—is truly a good one. I pretend to think carefully, to hesitate for a long time that the emissary begins to fidget.
Then, I slit my finger with my extended claws, and stamp on the indicated place for signature. I pass the paper to my brothers who do the same. I hand it to the emissary.
“We agree to the truce,” I force a smile. “To show our sincerity, why don’t you have a meal with us before you go?” I propose.
He nods immediately, and I admire his boldness. Eating at an enemy’s house even after signing a truce of peace is tricky business.
Food is brought in by the servants. He digs in immediately, and I pick at my food. There’s one thing I’m sure of though; I made the right decision by agreeing to the offer.
“Uhh…” the emissary suddenly groans in pain, clutching at his chest and doubling over. His face lands straight in the plate of food, and I’m taken aback by what’s happening. In the next minute, he coughs up blood, and grabs at his stomach painfully.
“Y-y-you poisoned me?” He chokes out with an effort. He falls to the ground, as life begins to seep out of his body. Everything happens so fast that I can’t seem to grasp it.
He falls silent, his body going limp. Xander goes over to check on him, then faces us with a solemn expression.
“He’s dead.” He says.