Chapter 49
Chapter 49 Break Them In Half
Rowan’s POV Discover more novels at
“Alpha Marcus.” Rowan gripped the other Alpha’s forearm, feeling the cold steel beneath worn leather. “Everything set p>
Marcus gave a sharp nod. Both men wore full battle gear, chainmail beneath hardened steel plates, traveling cloaks pulled back from their shoulders, weapons sharpened and ready. The courtyard buzzed with controlled movement as two hundred handpicked warriors formed ranks. Scarlet Howlers held the left flank while Duskwood claimed the right, each group disciplined and silent. No flags flew overhead. No war drums echoed. Only the soft scrape of blades being checked and bowstrings tested.
Beta Nick positioned himself behind Rowan, his helmet cradled under one arm, his expression grim and focused. Across the formation, Beta Mitchell consulted with the Howlers‘ captains, reviewing tactical notes on a worn slate. Pack alliances were rare, but tonight
necessity demanded cooperation. Fast strikers took point positions, archers scattered throughout the
ranks, shield bearers strategically placed to cover any necessary retreat.
“We move immediately,” Marcus declared. “Strike their rear before they reach the narrow pass between the cliffs p>
Rowan exchanged a meaningful look with Nick,
receiving a curt nod in response. Duskwood scouts jogged ahead to coordinate with the Scarlet Howlers‘ advance team.
They had spent the morning surveying ridge paths, mapping routes that avoided the main trail Hardy’s forces would follow. These hunting paths were treacherous, narrow passages choked with roots and undergrowth, but they offered concealment as long as the wind direction held steady.
“Orders remain unchanged,” Rowan addressed his captains. “No howling. No horn signals unless death is imminent. Emergency communication requires three steel taps only. Target their rear ranks first, then supply trains and wounded carriers. Capture officers
when possible. If they attempt formation, we withdraw, reposition, and strike again. Our goal is to weaken them, not engage in prolonged combat p>
Nick moved through the Duskwood ranks, inspecting equipment and gear, testing bowstrings, forcing one nervous recruit to replace a damaged shield. Mitchell performed similar inspections on his side, distributing resin to dull metal reflections and small clay vessels of pitch for the fire teams. Two specialized squads carried climbing hooks and rope, prepared to drag down any of Hardy’s men who might attempt scaling the cliff faces for tactical advantage.
“They expect no attack from behind,” Marcus observed as they approached the gate. “His watchers are focused on Raven Deon positions along the border. Did you maintain secrecy p>
“My garrison believes we’re reinforcing southern outposts,” Rowan replied. “Only Nick’s trusted inner circle knows our true objective. The remaining forces were instructed to hold defensive positions against potential Deon incursions p>
The gate mechanism groaned as it lifted. Cold
mountain air swept through the opening.
They emerged onto a game trail that branched away from the main road, requiring single–file movement initially before widening further ahead. Pine scent and damp earth would mask their approach. Both Alphas had smeared mud across their armor and cloaks for additional camouflage. Advance scouts spread across both flanks, watching for signs of enemy presence, fresh tracks, broken branches, or cold ashes. If Hardy had left sentries behind, they would be found.
“Engagement protocol,” Rowan announced, raising his voice for nearby ranks. “We cannot predict when the Raven Deons will launch their assault. When the rear guard appears, archers pin them in place. Shield line advances ten paces, then splits formation. Spear teams exploit the gap. Fire teams await my signal. No burning until we separate their center from their command p>
The strategy was carefully planned. While they
possessed transformation abilities, maintaining human form with conventional weapons would better conceal their true nature. Weapons prepared with lethal poison would ensure maximum effectiveness.
“What if he reverses direction?” Marcus asked.
“We draw them into the forest and make them pay for every step,” Rowan answered. “Your left flank harasses while my right forces their front toward the ravine. We eliminate the wounded. Then we burn everything p>
He visualized Hardy’s column, exhausted soldiers slowed by poison, focused solely on the path ahead and the approaching cliff passage. Perfect. Let them watch the horizon. Let them pray the Raven Deons remained inactive. They would never look back until destruction was upon them.
The march began.
Duskwood’s elite moved with measured, rhythmic steps, bows unstrung but accessible, knives loose in their sheaths. Scarlet Howlers maintained pace, heavy shields balanced on shoulders, axes resting against legs. At each turn, scouts communicated with two–finger signals and bark taps.
Fresh trail impressions revealed recent passage. Hardy’s forces had traveled this route recently, leaving mule prints, litter drag marks, and the distinctive
wedge pattern of a slipped boot heel. No counter–surveillance evidence existed. No trap
indicators.
Nick joined Rowan as they crossed a shallow creek. “Wind remains steady,” he reported. “If it shifts, we will detect their cooking fires p>
“Good,” Rowan responded. “I want their backs, not
their smoke p>
Marcus moved to Rowan’s opposite side. “Our intercept point lies half a league ahead. The path runs parallel to the main road from there. Once we pass through the birch grove, we will hear them clearly p>
“Then we coordinate timing,” Rowan said. “The Raven Deons will engage their front soon. I am certain. The moment that happens, we take their rear. We break
them in half p>
He did not voice his additional thoughts. Both leaders understood that poison should be coursing through enemy veins by now, that injuries would heal slowly, that panic would spread when warriors realized their bodies were failing them. He had witnessed this
before, skilled fighters staring at wounds that refused to close, losing the mental edge that kept them alive.
The birch grove appeared quickly. Mitchell raised an open palm, halting the column. Scouts slipped through the trees and returned to the two Alphas.
“Movement detected ahead,” one scout reported. “But fog is rolling in. Closer approach risks discovery p>
“Any combat sounds?” Rowan asked.
“None p>
Rowan looked at Marcus. “Do you think”
“Impossible,” Marcus interrupted. “The Raven Deons will use that cliff position. They strike tonight.” His expression darkened. “You mentioned fog p>
“Yes, Alpha p>
“Potentially toxic p>
“Unconfirmed p>
“Hold position,” Marcus commanded. “No one enters that fog.” He turned to Rowan. “If the Raven Deons deployed it, they are maintaining tactical advantage. I
have heard reports that they move through poison like normal air. If true, we wait and prepare to strike when they retreat p>
Marcus looked at Rowan. “Your thoughts p>
Before Rowan could respond, another scout rushed toward them. “Movement confirmed. Fighting sounds. We hear battle p>
Marcus suppressed a smile. “Excellent. This is the
moment. Everyone take positions. We shoot anything emerging from that fog p>
“Sir!” Another scout arrived. “They are coming! Movement approaching p>
“What?” Rowan stared at Marcus. Isn’t this a bit too…
quick?
Sara Lili
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.