Third Person’s POV
Helia sat back on her bed, her gaze drifting into the distance.
She hadn’t revealed a single thing to Digby, yet he had read her like an open book.
What made the nds at the back of her neck tighten even more was the fact that he didn’t question her political maneuvers li other male wolves often did. This silent validation from an enemy healer moved her in a way she couldn’t quite exin.
In the carriage ride back, Digby remained silent for a long time before finally speaking.
“It wouldn’t be a bad thing if the throne of the Western Tribe found a new owner.”
Adide understood exactly what he meant. She knew the road Helia was choosing was paved with challenges, and she found herself admiring the woman’s sheer guts.
If Helia ever became the Lycan Queen, the border conflicts between their two nations <i>could </i>likely be settled with ink and paper rather than blood and steel.
Alpha Lance arrived at the the protocol hall early. Only after receiving the final approval for thepensation package from Lycan Erasmus did he step into the hall, his sharp Alpha aura cutting through the room.
On the Western side, Damian and Bobby were noticeably absent.
Helia sat alone with a few trusted advisors; she was still pale, but her spine was as straight as a spear.
When it came to the extradition of Alpha Zander, Helia fought tooth and nail.
Eventually, Lance proposed an exchange: they would trade Milo for Alpha Zander. The deal was struck.
Regarding the 300,000 bags of meat, Helia tried to use her aura to force a concession.
But Lance stood his ground. His absolute limit was 80,000 bags, paid out over two years.
Knowing the Western civilians were starving in the cold, he offered 40,000 in the <i>first </i>year with the rest to follow
Their auras shed over the table in a silent, heavy stalemate.
Finally, both sides blinked: 100,000 bags total–60,000 this year, and 40,000 next year.
Then came the border.
The treaty Velda had forced was dered null and void. However, they didn’t revert strictly to the old pre–war lines either.
The blood–soaked “disputed zone” was designated as a neutral No Man’s Land.
Neither army was allowed to cross the line, with the final demarcation to be settled by a jointmission in a y
As for Velda herself, the Westerners were immovable: the she wolf had to be handed over in a cage
Lance didn’t push back on this and agreed to their demand. Then, he had the guards bring in two Western agents captured by
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the gaze of every ory official in the room, the spies signed confessions admitting to the tototaanntation of the Frostfang Pac
hese documents its m hand–one copy for each nation–the Western Tribe was forced to fo formally take the me for the
cre.
bloody detailsetatis of the past few weeks were finally forged into cold, hard text on parchchment.
Lance and and his high–ranking officials stood up in unison. They faced Helia and offefer d their deepest, most somber apologie e civilians 085s of Snowdeer Town and for “Rowan.”
whipped pred her head away, a single hot tear sliding down her cheek andnding grom the edge of the parchment, leaving a dark, ain stam
typticey the Western Tribe had always imed Lucian was never captured–that he had died of a sudden illness at the front. une toush of Snowdeer Town was too gruesome, a piece of history Helia would have to bury forever once she got home. dehad put Lucian’s real name on the table to trade fornd and food; Lance papaid the reparations topensate for Lucian’s life. the newly minted ceasefire agreement settled the major grievances between the two powers.
from this day forward, the truth of the Snowdeer massacre, the death of the Frostfangs, and Rowan’s true identity would be sealed way.
Both sides signed the sheepskin scrolls, which were immediately rushedecoto Lycan Erasmus.
After a quick review, Lycan Erasmus pressed his royal wolf–seal into thehe wax.
The war was officially over.
the next m
elia led her delegation to bid farewell to bycam Erasmus.
offered a grand banquet, but Helia insisteced on leaving immediately, so he didn’t press the issue.
y shoved Velda into a prison carriage, where anti–magic runes pulsed with a sickly green light along the iron
rolled up to the hotel, Velda’s nostrils ftared a wildly, catching every scent in the air. Zander’s scent wasn’t there
ust me?” she shrieked, her voice dissolving intoto a wolf’s howl. “Where is Alpha Zander? Doesn’t that old bastard have to
the Bloodscar border?”
used a heavy iron chain to muzzle her, seruicing her screams. He handed the end of the lead to Damian. Every member of egation looked at Velda with such pure stred d they might as well have been trying to burn her to ash with their eyes
he thrashed against <b>the </b>bars, desperate for everia a whift of ulrik’s scent
but there was no one
only fully armed guarda and the sight of Adide and Lance standing side by side in the wind
Ulrik–the mate she thought she could contest foley never showed his face
s
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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.