Chapter 67: Pregnant

Frost's POV

The heavy oaken door closed behind me with an air of finality as I entered the war room. My officers stood gathered around the massive circular table, murmuring in hushed tones. At my entrance, they straightened to attention, faces grim. I surveyed them all silently for a moment before taking my place at the head of the table.

"Report," I commanded tersely. No need for pleasantries when dark tidings were afoot.

Flint, my broad-shouldered second in command, spoke first. "The southern border towns are still wary after last week's unprovoked attacks, Commander. Whoever carried them out left no traces or banners. Vanished like ghosts." He shook his head in frustration.

I nodded, having suspected as much. "And no demands were made? Nothing taken?"

"No sir," Flint affirmed. "Seems violence was their only aim. Putting us on edge is my guess."

I considered this unsettling news. Such random brutality marked the work of lawless mercenaries or thrill-seeking raiders. But with what