Third Person’s POV
“That was their payback,” Lance’s voice was as
cold as ice.
“Think about it. First, the Western Tribe sent their legions to the Southern Border<i>–</i>that was strike one. Then, they captured Velda and the soldiers involved in the massacre right on the battlefield–that was strike two. And finally, they wiped out the Frostfangs. That was strike three<i>. </i>
Alpha Zander nodded slowly. He followed Lance’s logic.
In the game of high–stakes politics, there is a principle of parity.
Since the Western Tribe had already retaliated three times–by ughtering a pack, marching to the border, and taking the perpetrator, Velda–the blood debt should, in theory, <i>be </i>settled.
If the Western Tribe had done nothing after the massacre and simply sent a diplomat to protest, they would bepletely on the defensive.
But they chose vignte justice. They chose war. They used their own fangs to take what they considered fair.
“True,” Zander said softly, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the carved wolf head on his armchair.
“If it were just the vige, their retaliation would be enough to bnce the scales. But don’t forget… there’s still the matter of the Western Prince’s death.”
The Westernmander, Pierce, didn’t push things to the brink of a world war just for a few civilians. He was out for royal blood. He wanted justice for his own house.
Lance analyzed the situation calmly.
“Right now, neither side has brought that up officially. Pierce backed off at the border specifically to protect the dignity of their royal family. The delegationing now is led by Helia. She’s a rational politician, which means there’s still a chance for a deal.”
Adide stepped in, her eyes sharp.
“And one more thing. At the Southern Border, Pierce imed that any agents who made it back to the Western Tribe were executed to leave no witnesses. But…”
She paused, a cold smirk touching her lips.
“ording to Prune’s intel, two key witnesses actually managed to dodge Pierce’s purge. Prune has been hunting them down, and yesterday, she found them. They’re being secretly escorted back to the capital as we speak.”
Listening to them break down the board, Zander felt a mix of heavy sorrow and immense pride.
He hated that these filthy, bloody secrets had to be dragged into the light again, but he was moved by how
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much Lance and Adide had been doing for him since they got to the city. They had clearly been working overtime on intelligence.
Without their efforts, he’d be rotting in a dungeon right now, not sitting by a warm fire.
Zander straightened his back, gripping the armrests tightly as he looked at the two young wolves.
“Listen to me,” his voice turned deadly serious. “You’ve done enough. Whatever happens next, don’t force
it.”
“I’m old. I can handle whatever sentence they throw at me–exile, the noose, it doesn’t matter.”
His gaze turned fierce.
“But I will not allow you to throw away your futures or your lives for me. Do you understand?”
“Adide, my child, let’s be blunt: in the eyes of the Royal Council, the lives of every single member of the Frostfangs don’t weigh as much as the premeditated murder of a Western Prince. If they y that card, we lose. Period.”
Zander closed his eyes, his voice trembling with the weight of a confession.
“And on top of that, we have an original sin we can’t wash away: we ughtered the civilians of Snowdeer Town.”
Lance remained steady.
“Alpha Lance, we’ve run the numbers a thousand times. You’re right–we have to answer for Snowdeer Town, and they have to answer for the Frostfangs. And if the Prince’s deathes out, it’s a mess. But they also sent legions to help the Dragon Ash Kingdom attack us. They have to answer for that, too.”
Zander shook his head, his tone deste.
“Exactly. No one gets off clean. I know I’m going to have to pay for my part in this.”
“The fact that they showed up at the Southern Border was a vition of our ceasefire. But don’t forget, that treaty was signed at the Bloodscar Border by Velda. The moment we tore it up with that disgraceful massacre, the treaty was dead. Their presence at the Southern Border wasn’t a vition anymore–it was just an act of war.”
Zander wasn’t trying to be a pessimist.
He just wanted them to stop trying to save him at all costs.
If taking his head was the price for peace between two nations, he’d dly walk to the block himself—he’d even sharpen the de.
Adide knew exactly what he was thinking. She balled her fists so tight her ws punctured her palms, drawing fresh, bright red blood.
“Doesn’t matter,” she said through grit teeth. “We’re going to push this as far as it can go.”
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<strong>Olivia Harris</strong> is an emerging author celebrated for her captivating romantic and steamy novels. With a talent for crafting deep emotional connections and fiery chemistry between her characters, Olivia’s stories offer readers an escape into worlds filled with passion, intrigue, and heart-stopping drama.