Chapter 6 - The plan

Alpha Oswald

It’s been two weeks since we deployed the Whisperer, two agonizing weeks. Two weeks of tense silence. Anya had settled into her new role pretty well, there has been no new attack on the smaller pack or even rogue presence by the borders. 

I ran a hand through my slicked-back hair, the sho strands bristling with agitation. Every shadow seemed to harbor whispers, every gust of wind a taunting laugh. The rogues, usually a hornet's nest of chatter and bravado, had gone eerily quiet. Were they onto Anya? Had they discovered her mission - to sow discord amongst their ranks, fan the embers of dissent into a full-blown inferno? Or was this some new, insidious tactic, a deliberate silence meant to break me, to chip away at my resolve with the slow torture of uncertainty?

I slammed my fist against the table, rattling the papers that clustered my desk. The dim glow of the office lights cast flickering shadows on the maps spread across the surface. They depicted the desolate stretches of the Deadlands, a wasteland carved by unforgiving winds and littered with the bleached bones of past conflicts. The Jared rogue camp, a festering wound upon the land, sat like a viper ready to strike at the heart of the kingdom.

Anya, my lone whisperer in their nest, had promised whispers of discontent, rumors of a brewing coup within the rogue ranks. A charismatic warlord named Scar, Anya claimed, was amassing followers, his ambition gnawing at the fragile unity held together by the aging King Adolph. But were these whispers true, or merely another echo in the vast emptiness of the Deadlands?

The silence gnawed at me, worming its way into my thoughts, twisting my confidence into knots of doubt. Every creak of the tent, every distant howl of a hyena sent his pulse hammering against his ribs. I imagined Anya, my fearless whisperer, captured and tortured, her secrets bleeding out under the cruel gaze of Adolph’s men. I saw Scar, a grinning jackal rising from the shadows, ready to tear the kingdom apart.

But I was the king, the Alpha, leader of the Royal Crimson pack, and wolves did not whimper in the face of the unknown. I would not let the silence break me. I would not let the rogues play me like a desert flute, drawing out my fear in mournful notes. I slammed my fist again, this time on my chest, a vow etched in bone and blood.

Opening the mind link with Ethan, ‘Ethan…’ I trailed off as I heard weird grunts, Goddess I let out a chuckle. ‘Alpha I…’ cutting him off, ‘Just get here,’ I said, ending the mindlink. 

My Wolf onyx chose this as the perfect time to speak, ‘At least someone is getting some,’ rolling my eyes, ‘Not now Onyx, you know how I feel about sleeping with pack she wolves,’ I could see him in my minds eye with a scowl on his face he said. ‘I want my mate, maybe if you went out to search for her instead of brooding over this desk we’d be happy.’

I let out a sigh, I know he’s right but this isn’t the time to leave the pack, with the rogue issues. It has been 4 years since I shifted at 16, and I was yet to find my mate. It was taking a toll on Onyx and I, the once energetic and jovial wolf has been turned to a brooding ball of fury. 

Just then, there was a knock on the door, “Come in,” I called out, the door opened to reveal Ethan and my gamma Trix.

They sat down, Ethan’s face was that of mischief. Clearing my throat, “As you know, it has been two weeks since we deployed Anya and there has been nothing but silence,” Trix the quieter one of two spoke after a few beats of silence, “Do you think they're aware that we have a spy in their midst?” 

Ethan ran a hand through his hair, “It’s only been two weeks come on guys,” I raised an eyebrow at him, “It’s very suspicious when we suddenly deploy a spy and all of a sudden there’s radio silence.” 

They turned their faces, reflecting the same unease that gnawed at me. We discussed strategy, contingency plans, every word sharp and decisive, a balm against the creeping tide of doubt. We would not wait for the echo to fade, for the silence to suffocate us.  

Just then, there was a rustle outside my office door, the door pushed forward revealing my mother Luna Queen Lydia as she stepped into the room closing the door behind her.

I let out a sigh knowing this would be a long conversation, “Mother, we’re in the middle of an important meeting,” she narrowed her eyes, “Apparently the only way a mother can see her son is by booking an appointment, so here I am,” Ethan let out a chuckle for which I glared at him. 

I turned to the guys, “Give us a minute,” I ran a tired hand through my hair, a habit I seemed to be doing a lot lately, “Mom you know I’ve been busy with alpha duties, and they keep piling up,” she wrinkles her nose at me, “If you listened to me and held a grand ball, you’d have found your mate and you won’t be miserable.”

Hearing my mom call me miserable stirred up feelings I have been trying to suppress, with a tense jaw, I let out a jagged breath, I couldn’t keep listening to her speak about this mate thing everytime. 

“So what do you suggest I do now mom?” Her lips curled up with a smile, “A ball would be the best thing, leave the planning to me. All you have to do is show up,” she said with her lips stretched wide in a grin, “Fine, you can have the ball,” I said with resignation. 

She let out a loud squeal which had me covering my ears. 

The door opened, Ethan and Trix stood in the doorway, “Any problem alpha?” I waved them back in just as the queen barged out of my office, “No problem,” Ethan squinted his eyes at my face, he must have seen something funny because he burst into a laughing fit, “Damn Oz, what did you sign up for,” I schrunched my face, ”We would be having a ball soon,” their faces where that of people who wanted to explode, “No laughing,” I said. 

After the good laugh, we settled down to discuss about the rouges, the door opened, my mother stepped in again. 

“Is there anything else,” I said with a raised eyebrow, "Still brooding, pup?" she teased, the nickname biting into my already frayed nerves.

I glared at her, the silver flecks in my eyes flashing like miniature lightning. "Brooding? I wouldn't call it that,Mother. More like strategizing." My gaze flickered to my Beta, the guile Ethan, practically vibrated with barely contained frustration. Beside him, my stoic Gamma, Trix, whose granite features remained impassive as ever.

The issue at hand: rogue wolves. Who we usually see at our borders daily have suddenly gone silent.  Fom the information given to us by Anya, the leader of these particular band of rogues; Scar is as lethal as they come, with whispers of his savagery, of mangled prey and moonlit raids on different packs, had sent shivers down even the bravest spines.

"Strategies are for a battlefield, pup," Luna countered, her voice laced with the husky timbre of years spent commanding."This is a delicate dance, one wrong step and we could have a full-blown war on our paws."

I scoffed. "With all due respect, Mother, 'delicate dance' won't keep our throats out of their teeth."

Ethan snorted, earning a sharp look from Trix. "Oz’s right," he growled, his voice as sharp as his claws. "These rogues aren't interested in diplomacy. They're rabid dogs, Mother. We need to put them down before they tear other packs in the kingdom to shreds."

Luna sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of leadership. "I understand your concerns. But a direct attack could backfire. We need to be smart, cunning. Lure them away from hiding in the deadlands North of our territory.

The room erupted in a cacophony of suggestions. Trix, ever the tactician, proposed a series of fortified outposts to monitor the rogues' movements. Ethan, always the hunter, argued for a swift, preemptive strike to cripple their leadership. I, caught between my mother's caution and Ethan's ferocity, remained silent, my jaw clenched tight.

Luna raised a hand for silence, her gaze sweeping over each of them. "There's merit in all your ideas," she conceded. "But we need a plan with teeth, one that can adapt to their unpredictability. A plan that uses both our strength and our cunning."

The fire in Ethan's eyes dimmed. Trix's brow furrowed in concentration. Even Kai, the ever-impatient pup, sat still, his mind churning with possibilities.

For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the crackling fire in the hearth. Then, a slow smile spread across Luna's face. "I have an idea," she said, her voice low but filled with the confidence of a seasoned predator. "But it's a gamble. Are you willing to roll the dice, pups?"

I met her gaze, his own resolve hardening. "We were born to gamble, Mother."

Ethan grinned, fangs flashing. "Let's hear it, then. Let's show these rogues what it means to mess with the Lunar Pack."

And so, under the dim glow of the moonstone lamp, the plan unfolded. A plan of subterfuge and misdirection, of whispers in the dark and shadows playing games. A plan that could either end the threat... or unleash a maelstrom of chaos upon their world.

The stakes were high, the risks undeniable. But as the Alpha, the Beta, the Gamma, and the Luna huddled together in the Silver Den, one thing was clear: they were ready to fight. For their pack, for their territory, and for the moonlit legacy they called home.

The whispers began that night, carried on the wind and woven into the moonlight. And the rogues, unwittingly, listened. For in the end, sometimes the deadliest weapon is not fang or claw, but a well-spun tale, told in the right darkness.