Chapter 85

{Ryanna’s POV}

A wolf crashed through the snow with a snarl, only to be met mid-leap by another's claw. He fell lifeless as his blood soaked everything around.

To the right, Jade had a rogue pinned beneath his foot, cracking ribs with the pressure of his stomp. A war cry ripped from the throat of one of ours — followed by silence. I turned just in time to see him fall, not dead, but unmoving.

Another rogue barreled through three soldiers at once, claws out, breath steaming. We were winning, but barely. And at too steep a cost.

Every inch gained came with a limb.

The battlefield stank of blood and desperation.

The smell twisted in the air thick, bitter, dragging the morning breeze under with ease.

All around me, wolves — my wolves — groaned, clung to consciousness, or lay flat on their backs staring at nothing. The snow beneath them was trampled into brown slush, soaked in more pain than water.

I watched it unfold from the hill's ridge as the wind tugged lightly at my cloak.

I folded my arms and sighed under the biting wind. My posture was steady, but inside? I was simmering.

Not because of the war.

Not even because of the broken bodies.

But because Aurelius was still hiding.

‘Coward.’ I cursed internally.

He hadn’t sent any of his Death Wraiths this time — no monsters born from the Moongrave potion, no contorted beasts born from merged souls and bodies. Just men. Tired ones. Disposable ones.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Sixteen reported soldiers suffering light concussions."

Ophelia murmured as she approached quietly, eyes scanning the wreckage below: “Three reported lost arms, dozens of fractured limbs, and that’s not counting other injuries.”

“And deaths?” I asked without turning.

“None. Thanks to Adolph and Magnus for covering the wolves from the side. But… this isn’t sustainable, Ryanna.”

I closed my eyes and let the breath sit in my chest. “It’s not meant to be. He’s not fighting to win. He’s trying to tire us out.”

Casper landed beside us with a light thud, flicking blood off his claws. He was still in his half-form, breathing heavily. “Every battle has the same story. They charge, we tear them apart, and watch them retreat if they can, leaving behind bodies and their men.”

“We have to find a way to shift the odds against him,” Casper growled, pacing.

“Strike where he doesn’t expect.”

His hatred for Aurelius reached an all-time high after he returned. The fact that Aurelius could do that to him must’ve broken something in him.

“We can’t,” I replied, his pacing halted at my tone.

“Not when every attack forces us to transform due to its sheer scale. You've experienced it as much as I have, every shift takes all of our stamina. The pain lingers, so we barely have time to recover before the next encounter. We can’t afford to collapse mid-fight.”

Casper exhaled hard, rubbing the back of his neck. “Then we sit here and wait for the next wave? Let him drain us even more? Mom, we need initiative.”

“No. We plan smarter, that's all we need to do.”

A soft bell rang in the distance, one of ours.

Ophelia tilted her head. “Visitors. Must be envoys.”

I raised a brow. “Already?”

“They were supposed to arrive after sundown.”

“They're early,” Casper said with a grim smirk.

“Desperate people usually are.”

He wasn't wrong.

We met them in a makeshift tent, reeking of bandages and herbs as injured wolves lay all around.

I didn’t bother changing into something formal, let them see the cost of war on my skin.

Two wolves entered, flanked by aides: Coren of House Vale and Ilia of House Ilia. One looked like he’d come to negotiate a light treaty. The other like she’d kill me with a glance if it didn’t take too much effort.

Coren bowed his head. “Lady Ryanna.”

“Coren,” I replied with a nod. “Ilia.”

“Hhmph,” Ilia replied, ever blunt.

“I am at war,” I said flatly. “Does my appearance disturb you?”

Coren chuckled lightly. Ilia didn’t blink.

We sat at a narrow table with no guards. My request. I wanted them to feel exposed. Wanted them to know we weren’t cowering, even now.

“You requested this meeting,” I said. “Speak.”

Coren leaned forward, fingers steepled. “We’ve seen the reports. The battlelines. We’re aware of how thin your forces are stretched.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“We’ve discussed… extensively, the matter of joining your cause,” Ilia said. Her tone was even, her words measured. “House Vale and House Ilia are prepared to lend troops.”

“Prepared?” I echoed.

She added lastly. “On one condition.”

I already knew what was coming. There was no way they would help without a clause. What I wanted to know was what they could ask for.

Coren hesitated, then said it anyway. “All wolves are not created equal… You must reinstate the Lycan structure, we want the Omegas as slaves. They are not equipped to stand as we do. They are at the bottom of the food chain. They are a risk, one that could fracture your forces when you most need unity.”

He paused then added: “If, of course, we let them do so.”

“I’ve heard this speech before,” I muttered.

Ilia’s eyes sharpened. “Then perhaps it's time you listened.”

I stood slowly, chair scraping softly against the stone. “You think I can be threatened into accepting this structure?”

“No. We think you can be reasoned with.” Coren said quickly.

“You believe giving me support gives you leverage. But it doesn’t. It exposes your priorities.”

“We are pragmatists. Not idealists. War is not the place for social reform.” IIia said.

I crossed my arms. “And I’m not the leader who will buy survival with chains such as this.”

Coren sighed. “Ryanna…”

“No,” I said. “You want to offer support? Then do it. If not, leave. But don’t walk into my war pretending your boots don’t crush the same bones as Aurelius’s.”

A silence stretched. Coren’s jaw twitched.

Ilia rose. “Then you will fall.”

I locked eyes with her. “You will. Because when this is over, the world will remember who stood up when it mattered. And who stood aside?”

They left without another word.

Casper exhaled beside me. “Well.”

“Well,” I echoed, rubbing my face.

Ophelia entered a moment later. “You told them to shove it.”

“I did,” I said, then turned to Casper. “Was I wrong?”

His expression softened. “Not even a little.”

I looked out the tent flaps.

The sky was clear, blue stretching endlessly above a broken world. It was almost mocking.

But below it… We still stood. Despite the blood and tears.

“We have to hold the line,” I murmured. “Even if it kills us.”