Haryek's shock nearly prevails over his carefully calculated facade of control, and he takes a second to decide whether to be concerned.

 He glances around casually, tipping his body back and forth to see if he can spot the ambush that is undoubtedly about to happen. I can reason enough that he seemed to suspect we were attempting to mislead him or lure him into a trap. "I never pegged you as a jester, " he comments dryly. 

"You would be correct in your assumption, so I suggest you hurry this on, lest you wish me to change my mind?" There was no claim that Verando was known for his patience.  

I don't find his suspicion particularly off-putting for Verando had told Haryek, not a week ago, that he would like to have him killed. 

Considering reassuring him, I decided against it, for I would never be so kind to the foul elf, and it would only put him on edge. Instead, I huddled further into the fur surround of my overcoat, tugging at the hems in frustration. "Can we move this along, please, gentlemen? The wind is brisk."

"Aren't you supposed to be in control of that sort of thing?" Haryek snorts, rolling his eyes. 

With a sense of false bravado, the Elf elevates his chest to square up to the lycan male. "Or are you back under the horde's control and forbidden to use your powers?"

 While they were nearly the same height, Verando was half again the width of the elf. Broader in his shoulders and more muscular in his chest and thighs, I try not to focus on such attributes when Haryek is openly slinging insults. 

"It's almost admirable how you hold onto this sense of nobility. You're less than dirt here, Elf. If you're going to make an attempt, I'd suggest you do it now. Otherwise, lead the way and leave this nonsense where you stand. I initially found it humorous; now you're just getting on my bloody nerves." Verando retorts lowly. 

With a sarcastic bow, the elf seems to understand there would be no hope of turning the two of us against each other now. "Have to keep you on your toes, lycan. You've strolled through here all too easily; someone should put up a fight. I'll send a messenger to summon Loan. I'm sure he will want to be in on this; if you're going to side with us, I'd like it to be all of us." 

"Obviously, this would include both groups, but understand that Loan's group is resisting bias and scrutiny while your lot was waiting for my kingdom to fall. You're not cut from the same cloth; many questions remain to be answered on your end, Haryek." I retort, casting a hand before the warlord to prevent further antagonizing. Haryek wanted to get a rise; he would find none here if I could help it. 

"Always a warm ray of sunshine, Nicolas," Haryek grumbles as if somehow my insistence on his accountability was disappointing. 

Haryek gestures at one of his men as they take off toward the city. Then he turns to us and motions to follow him. Sensing Verando's reluctance, I touch his forearm, squeezing it in quiet reassurance that this was the right move. The gray-haired man's jaw is tight, and his shoulders are rigid as he forces himself to comply. 

Haryek leads us to the square well outside the range of the rebellion's borders and into the depths of the city walls, much more formal than his humble cottage. It would appear the community was still entertaining giving him any sort of merit here in my realm, for they averted their eyes like scolded boys when they saw us together. 

His bum leg gives me a little satisfaction, though it doesn't slow him down as much as I'd hoped. Elves had always been frustratingly nimble; I'm sure it was more for the sake of complaining than the actual pain that he spoke on it. 

We arrived in the city hall, a building my father had erected in the farce that one day he would join the kingdoms and surrender portions of his realm to the various territories. To see the marble statue of him carved into it's entrance, staff pointed toward the heavens, I grimace at all that had occurred here. 

It was a war room, in all reality. No peace had ever been negotiated on this table, and I'd never been welcome through these doors. Hesitating in the doorway, I touched the stone pillar; some inner child was too obedient to dare step foot in the forbidden chamber. 

I had been deemed unworthy by my birth order and my lack of performance, what right did I have to make these negotiations?

Verando frowns; his hand lifts, but he closes his fist, knowing better than to touch me so publically. A prince favoring men would be a very unsettling rumor, given the strength of religion in my home. 

"It's hard for me, too. You're doing well." His voice is low, an octave softer. "Let's get this over with, yeah?"

"Of all people, I can't help but think I'm the wrong person for this, to stand here as the son of the man who caused so much suffering-"

"You're the only one who's cared enough to change it. If it burdens you, then fight to see it through. Maybe later we can.. mmm.. knock it down?" Rolling one of his shoulders, he tests the durability of the rotator cuff with a few practice rolls, rubbing it with the off-hand. "I might have a bit more destruction left in me."

Running my tongue over my teeth, I try not to laugh, holding onto my position and refusing to let myself crack. He was unexpected if nothing else; when I thought I'd figured him out, he would find a way to say something that would catch me entirely off guard. "Knock it down, hmm?" I mutter under my breath, knowing Verando could hear me but testing to see if Haryek could as we follow him again. 

"How about you get me through this deal on top, and you can fuck me on the mount of that statue? Game from some desecration?"

The warlord almost coughs, shocked but staring directly ahead with a wicked grin dimpling his cheek. "My my, what a foul mouth you have for a royal. I'd say you have a bargain."

The table was round, comfortably seating only about 12 people. To truly be a room of peace, one would think he would have made its focal point much larger. In the center of it rests a large map of our country. "Sit." Haryek offers as if somehow he was the host of this gathering. 

Alpha lowers himself into a chair, leaning back into it and returning his arms over his chest. 

Alpha fills the unsuspecting chair almost comically; I cross one leg over the other as I settle on the seat to his left so that he would sit on my right. 

The Elf Prince sits across from us, propping his lame leg up on a neighboring chair, as his general sits beside him. "Tea?" Haryek offers his best smile. 

The look he receives from my captor silences him, and he clears his throat as we wait in awkward silence for Loan. Silence is something a lycan does well; their intensity and heat speak volumes about their opinion. The Solomonari rushes into the room and freezes when he realizes we were waiting on him, evening out his robes before sitting between us all.

"Can't even grace us with your robes or military attire, Nicolas?" Loan frowns, disappointed, only to retreat half an inch by the expression Verando greets him with. 

"I never served; that would be my brothers, lest to wish for me to rob the graves of the dead for the sake of appearance?"

 A woman follows behind him, wearing the clothes of a man and a hat, you would guess her a young boy if not for her delicate features. She sits beside him, smiling, the only one genuinely pleased to be here. 

I suppose everyone else has the same assumption: what good could come from this meeting? 

"Charming, Nicolas. Truly." Loan mutters, resting his hands in his lap. 

"Did someone die?" She scoffs at the tension, her southern accent heavy. 

"Yes. 10 of my men. Good men." Verando's voice is low, and she frowns at him. The casualties were slim compared to the opposing force, but to a warlord who hated to lose any man, let alone to elves, it was quite the offense to his tactics. 

Perking at the news, Haryek focuses on what he'd hoped to discuss. 

"How many of my people would you suppose there were?" Haryek attempts, trying not to sound too eager for information. He twirls a pencil between his fingers as a piece of paper is placed before him, I'm assuming for notes. 

With a heavy scowl, Verando is not impressed with the elf's attempts to hide his eagerness. "One hundred. They were in the trees; your kind knows better than to attempt an attack on us from the ground." Alpha sits up and rests his folded hands on the table.

 "We took care of it, but in the process, we took on damage. I want to clarify one thing before we relay privileged information that could put my pack at risk. If any of this is used in a way that could harm my people, I will personally come to your doorstep and ensure your suffering will be long and painful. I'm restless; it's a personality flaw.. so you can assure yourselves I will find whatever crack of hell you return to. Are we clear?"

Haryek smiles. "Alpha, surely, you can trust us. We have been trying to ally with you for weeks!" It was as if we hadn't spent days trying to help me survive the kind of help Haryek intended to offer. Like a true politician, Hayek's broad grin curls to the softest points in his face to make him look more human and less porcelain. 

It almost causes me to shudder, and looking at him now fills me with disgust. Taking on offense, Loan scoffs at the threat. "Maybe you shouldn't threaten the people you need to win? I didn't realize we were signing up to be drafted into the lycan horde."

The warlord narrows his eyes, there was no need for him to yell for when he was angry he normally lowered his tone. The menacing set of his jaw sent a clear message. "Oh, it's not a threat. It's a bloody promise."

 I shudder at his tone and glare across the table at my schoolmate, who gives me a look that suggests I put my animal on a leash. I can only imagine the two of them wanted to see how much control I truly had, and the truth was, I was uncertain of that myself. 

Finally, he sees it fit to introduce the real reason we are here. "The pack has lost multiple members of the higher ranks. Lord Darrius was smart enough to separate those he felt were strong. I know many of these men personally, but they are young and lack the experience necessary to form good, tight battle formations needed to take on an army of elves with bows and arrows on their side. They're mostly footmen; they aren't the free thinkers we need for leadership positions."

Verando explains that Taryek, the Elf-lord, has tactfully decided to keep some of the best lycan generals in his control, and it would greatly benefit us to find a way to get to them and retrieve them. Unfortunately, Taryek knows we would want them alive and might have already killed them.

 But, if we could regain even one or two of them, it might be what we need to press on toward the Kingdoms of Man.  

Haryek ponders this; he seems to agree that there is a good chance their suspicions are correct. He explains that, luckily, he brought some of the best elven archers from Ziduri with him, and we should all be grateful for his ability to think ahead in case such an event occurs.

While he has only 30 elves at his disposal, they are some of the best and have the ability to train others to shoot a bow as well. Physical fitness is at least something they agree on, and I zone in and out of their conversation on training.

"My concern is that your people would be willing to turn on their own for Lycans. I've never known an elf to care about anything but their own interests." Verando doesn't sound convinced. 

Haryek's light eyes flick up. "It won't be comfortable. But this is war, and this is what must happen. Rather be on the side that has the teeth, than the side that receives the bite. Wouldn't you agree, Loan?"

They both turn their attention to Loan who sits up from his reclined position, waiting for additional requests. He dusts imaginary lint from his coat as he adjusts himself. Unpracticed and unprepared, my cohorts practically rolled their eyes at his ill-kept self and his attempts at a dignified response when, only moments ago, he'd been chastising me. 

Little did they know, Loan only acted as part of dignity; he did not own a scrap of breeding or possession beyond those robes. 

"We are prepared to offer more aid, an exchange so that you feel as though we are equally invested. We have magic users and some healers who could keep those alive until Nicolas or I reach them. Unfortunately, a good deal of our people are refugee women and children. We have been warding off attacks from the elves trying to come in from the neighboring towns, but we won't withstand a full-blown attack like the one that went after your group. We will lose much more than ten. In exchange for our magic users, we truly need aid." 

 It wasn't what the warlord wanted to hear, for Verando sighed only to slump back into his chair. It audibly groaned as if it'd like to crack, but it was too frightened to fail. He mulls this over, tapping his fingers on the table. I can tell by his expression that he's disappointed; he had hoped for numbers or perhaps some hidden threat that could have made the alliance worth his while. 

I began to dread the outcome; too much had been revealed to a man who I knew to be merciless when necessary. With all their cards on the table, they were at risk of total exposure to the wolf who sat just outside the sheep pen. 

"Don't discount what magic can do; remember who the cursed one here is." Loan adds, wryly. "You really need to work on your poker face; your disappointment is clear as day. You think this isn't worth it, right?"

"Every sad story does not require the benefit of a conclusion at the expense of others. Checks and balances, a city of women and children will require defense that would take men away from the front lines. My curse came from the most powerful sorcerer in the world, and I'd like to remind you I killed him. I fear the elves and their talent more than the magic of a small clan."

This was getting us nowhere.

"Maybe we can send the younger wolves to aid Loan's people? They could get experience there?" I offer, almost dismissive, as the answer is painfully obvious. "We have young lycans causing a mess, to send them away for some experience wouldn't be the worst thing."

While I was expecting backlash, the silence of the room made me realize that everyone was staring at me. Waiting for me to continue, I swallow and look at the map. 

"I have offered to lay down cover fog as our foot soldiers move in. It helped greatly, considering most wolves are forest colors and blend right in with the fog." I gesture on the map towards the open fields that separate us from the neighboring towns. "I don't know how much use it would be here. It works best around water, and as you can see, there is little to be found if we meet in the open."

 The calm eyes observe my trailing finger; he raises his hand to comb his stubble and consider my proposition quietly. "On foot, the pack is too strong. I'm not concerned with the head-to-head; the elves on the capital's walls will stop us in our tracks. Undoubtedly, they will have oil to dump down on anyone who can get close enough. Taryek, surely, has amped up his defenses. He knows we are coming for him; otherwise, he would not have let Haryek get so close. You're a fool if you think he doesn't know you're here." 

"No doubt my father is prepared for an assault on foot." Haryek sighs. "I'm well aware of the eyes my father has, and he's watching us; it's only a matter of time. "

Loan sketches a quick diagram on a sheet of paper. "Our magic users can put up small shields on a force that could run in and break down the gates?" He suggests. 

Verando pulled his lips down into a frown. Who he trusted was clear, and Loan was not one of them.

"It would take a monster to knock down those gates." Haryek scoffs.

"I have a Russian." Alpha sits up to rest his elbows on the table and repeatedly scans the path I marked. He asks Loan to show him where the rebellion lies, and Loan hesitantly shows him with his finger. Only a dozen or so odd miles from our borders, on the edge of Dezna.

I can tell he's weighing his options, he doesn't want to split his pack but the offerings of the rebellion and magical aid are difficult to turn down considering we are at a surplus of muscle and lack of those to control it. This conversation had been productive; it was what his army desperately needed. 

To get experience for his men with non-consequential deaths at stake was too good to pass up. While it makes me uncomfortable to think of it this way, I was aware enough of how he reasoned to know it as the truth. 

Loan's people would die without our help, and if his men failed, the blame would not rest on his shoulders for attempting to help. 

The men followed orders better than they had developed plans, and Sota clearly believed that we should charge in blindly.  

We needed this help.

"Do you trust him?" Verando presses, not looking at me, locking the arctic gaze on Loan, who appears offended at the suggestion of his betrayal. 

In truth, the answer was no. 

"Nicolas? Nicolas decides?" Haryek scoffs, truly amused.

As my lips parted, I quickly considered where my alliances would land me. He would surely blame me if this went wrong, but admitting a suspicion could cause the whole plan to crumble. 

Swallowing, I straighten in my seat. "I trust them to align with us as long as it benefits them. Our cause benefits them, and as long as that lasts, I think they will be loyal.."

His breath catches in what was almost a laugh, and it would appear that I surprise him sometimes, too. "How many do you need?" Verando asks shortly.

"Um. I don't know. How many do you have?" Loan scrambles, collecting himself from the reality that his fate had rested in my hands. 

Alpha rolls his eyes, his patience growing thin as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "You can thank Nicolas for this alliance; what he says is true for all of us. My loyalty is to my people; dead weight will not be tolerated. I can give you sixty men."

 That leaves us with a remainder of two hundred, it will also help with the hunting on land that is about to reach winter when prey will be much more scarce. 

"We have three weeks to make this happen." He concludes, our new allies pale at the short timeline.

They weren't expecting such a close date.

Collecting his papers as if he wished to run before the warlord could change his mind, Loan stammers through his demands. "I'll need time to get my men here and get your men there; we will need yours first before we can send ours; we can't afford to be vulnerable right now. Our leader wants to meet with you and plans to form a sort of council where we can all communicate openly. Others must be brought in once the elf kingdom is conquered; various chapters of these groups have been suffering for a long time.. your help is greatly appreciated much as it seems forced. 

Dams have been built that block major rivers for many of the magical communities-" 

Verando raises his hand to cut him off.

"Let's get one thing clear. The lycan force is not staying here. Once we conquer Ziduri, we will push forward towards the kingdoms of Man. Any and all complaints go directly to your future King, Nicolas. He will be left in charge once I'm gone; I suggest you grow used to the idea because I won't defend a land where he is not in charge."