Chapter 141 Born Ready

Chapter 141 Born Ready
Rian

“Going upstairs?” I ask as Bailey adjusts Jericho higher on her shoulder after breakfast.

She smiles, already looking tired. “I’m going to feed him again, and then we’re both taking a nap.”

Jericho lets out a small sound of approval that makes us laugh.

“And what are you going to do today, Alpha?” she asks with a wink. 

“I think I’ll come with you and read my father’s journal while you sleep.”

“That sounds exciting.”

“We are living on the edge these days,” I reply. 

She rolls her eyes and starts toward the stairs, and I follow her up to our bedchamber.

Once inside, Bailey settles onto the bed with Jericho while I take a seat at the desk near the window. Sunlight spills across the wood as I open the journal of Alpha King Cassius.

The pages are worn from use, filled with observations, battlefield reports, and thoughts he recorded long after events had ended.

I begin reading, and hours seem to pass without my noticing. The journal focuses heavily on the war with Junhera twenty-five years ago. I already know the broad history. Every Silverhide pack member does. But reading my father’s personal account is something entirely different.

He doesn't simply record victories and defeats. He records mistakes, regrets, and missed opportunities. He writes in lessons learned only after blood had already been spilled.

I find myself reading each passage twice. Again and again he writes about logistics, supply lines, troop movement, alliances, and the dangers of allowing pride to dictate strategy. Several entries are devoted entirely to things he would have done differently if given another chance. The hindsight is priceless.

I turn another page. Toward the end of the conflict, the tone changes. Both Silverhide and Junhera were exhausted by the war. Eventually, the leaders of both packs agreed to sign a peace treaty and end the fighting.

The war stopped, but the damage remained. My father writes extensively about the consequences. The conflict fractured the Circle of Eighths, and trust between the allied packs deteriorated. Old alliances weakened, and trade routes collapsed.

What had once been a unified collection of territories working together beneath the Moon Goddess became something fractured and incomplete. The utopia the Circle once represented never fully recovered.

Junhera only grew worse. They became criminals and dark practitioners of black magic. Corruption spread through their territory. 

I sit back in my chair and stare out the window. Behind me, Bailey and Jericho sleep peacefully. For a few moments, I simply listen to the quiet sound of their breathing.

Then I look back down at the journal. If Junhera continues on its current path, this isn't simply an old historical problem. It's a future problem, perhaps even a war waiting to happen.

More importantly, if the Circle is ever going to become whole again, the wound created twenty-five years ago can’t be ignored forever.

I continue reading until I reach the final pages. By the time I close the journal, my mind is racing with possibilities: military options, diplomatic options, economic pressure, reconstruction efforts, and what it means for our alliance structures.

The pieces begin fitting together into something larger. Carefully, I rise from the desk, and Bailey and Jericho remain asleep. I cross the room quietly, press a kiss to Bailey’s forehead, then slip out of the bedchamber, carrying the journal beneath my arm.

The halls of the castle are calm as I make my way toward the war room. By the time I push open the doors, my purpose is clear. The Circle of Eighths was never meant to remain broken. If the Moon Goddess intended these lands to stand together, then restoring that vision is worth pursuing.

I set the journal on the massive table and begin unrolling maps, and then I pick up a pencil. Somewhere among these territories is a path back to the unity that once existed, and I intend to find it.



Bailey 

By the time I finally convince Rian to leave the war room and come to dinner, the sun is beginning to set beyond the castle windows. He spent nearly the entire day buried beneath maps, journals, and notes, chasing every idea that came to him after reading Alpha King Cassius's account of the war with Junhera. Getting him to stop long enough to eat takes far more effort than it should.

"You know you can't survive on strategy alone," I tell him as we settle into our seats.

Rian laughs. "I was busy."

"That isn't an excuse."

"It is when I'm trying to solve problems that have existed for twenty-five years."

Once the food arrives, I encourage him to explain exactly what has occupied his thoughts for the entire day. That invitation is all he needs. Before long, he's describing everything he learned from his father's journal, from the decisions that led to the war with Junhera to the peace treaty that ended it. 

According to Cassius's writings, the treaty stopped the bloodshed, but it never repaired the damage. The conflict fractured relationships between the packs, weakened trust throughout the Circle of Eighths, and left Junhera isolated from the alliance that once helped create the prosperity the territories enjoyed under the Moon Goddess.

"The war ended," Rian says, leaning forward slightly, "but nobody ever fixed what it broke. We call it peace because the fighting stopped, but the Circle was never truly whole again."

I understand what he's saying immediately. Junhera isn't simply another neighboring territory. It's a wound that never healed.

"And you think restoring the Circle means dealing with Junhera."

"I do. If we're serious about bringing back the unity that existed before the war, we can't keep pretending Junhera isn't part of the problem."

As I listen, another thought occurs to me. The spirit guides have watched generations of rulers rise and fall. They've seen alliances formed, kingdoms rebuilt, and mistakes repeated. If anyone can identify weaknesses in Rian's plans, it's them.

"Why don't we invite the spirit guides to review everything?" I ask. "They've been watching the Circle far longer than either of us has been alive."

Rian's expression brightens immediately. "That's an excellent idea."

I reach through the link and send the invitation. Within moments, responses begin returning from the guides. Some are curious, some intrigued, and others clearly interested in hearing what Rian has discovered, but every one of them agrees to come.

Dinner ends quickly after that. I hand Jericho to one of the maids I trust most, knowing he'll be asleep long before we return, and then Rian and I make our way back to the war room together. The maps and journals are exactly where he left them, spread across the table in organized chaos.

We take our seats just as the spirit guides begin to arrive. One by one they enter the war room until all eight have gathered around the table. 

I wait until the last of them is seated and then bow. “Thank you all for coming.”

“We are your spirit guides,” Zanya says, her gold light glowing softly around her dark curls. “We will always come when you call.”

“I’ll be direct so as not to waste your time,” Rian begins. “Do you advise going to war with Junhera?”

Bo answers in the same direct tone. “Conflict with Junhera is unavoidable if you want to restore what your kingdoms once were and could be.”

“Avoiding war entirely is no longer a likely outcome based on current conditions,” Bontah adds. 

“Then I need to understand the timing,” Rian says. 

“You were wise to align the other seven packs before you found yourself in the midst of Junhera’s dark magic. You have taken your time. Now you move.” Simkah sounds encouraging. 

“Without that alliance structure, you would be entering this conflict at a severe disadvantage. You led well, Alpha Gray,” Reyger says. 

Bo adds, “With it, you have created the first stable counterbalance in generations. That is no small feat.”

Rian nods. “Is it enough to win if conflict becomes war?”

Iggy answers clearly. “It improves your chances significantly, but it does not guarantee victory. Junhera plays dirty. They don’t abide by the Moon Goddess. They play with evil spirits and dark magic.”

Bontah follows. “Junhera operates with dark magic integration that creates unpredictability in both offense and defense. Do not go unprepared.”

“Standard strategic assumptions will not always apply against them. Bring all eight pack’s healers and alchemists with you. Bring your white witch,” Elainardo says, looking at me. 

Zanya adds, “Junhera is vast, but their isolation limits their ability to expand support or recover from sustained pressure. And most importantly, they don’t have the Moon Goddess on their side.”

Iggy concludes, “Where they have volatility, you have coordination and favor. Follow your loyalty. Follow your heart.”

Rian absorbs that for a moment before speaking again. “Then the situation is this: We are more organized, they are more unpredictable, and conflict is likely.”

No one contradicts him.

Lattkah responds. “That is an accurate summary of your current position. You know the way.”

Rian leans back slightly, his eyes still on the guides. “Then there is no more debating whether this happens. There is only preparation for when it does.”

Reyger answers simply. “That is certain.”

“Thank you,” Rian says. “You have been most helpful, as usual.” 

“Yes, and it was lovely to see you all again,” I add. “We will see you at the celebration when we defeat Junhera.” 

Rian and I bow to the spirit guides and one by one, they begin to rise and vanish in a blurry haze of rainbow lights. 

I turn to my husband. “Are you really ready for war?” 

“I believe we are the Luna and Alpha who were born to restore utopia to these packs and these kingdoms,” Rian says. “I believe we were born ready.”