Chapter 127
[ 772 words ]
The latest numbers
127: 127.
The latest numbers Ronan
The meeting room is starting to feel like a courtroom, and each of the other Alphas is a lawyer.
The problem with being the judge is that it falls to me to determine whether or not they’re feeding me spoonfuls of shit.
At least I have Elliot.
My wolf snorts, amused by that thought as I was.
The table stretches through the center of the room, covered in reports, maps, and infection data gathered over the last few weeks.
The scent of tension hangs heavier than the smell of freshly brewed coffee sitting in the corner.
I sit at the head of the table, trying not to show how exhausted I am.
Or how pissed that I somehow missed a viper sneaking into my den.
My wolf paces beneath my skin.
It would be a lot simpler to challenge them.
Or it could cause distrust amongst those who stand beside us, I counter.
My wolf makes a put-out face.
I know, but it’s best to proceed this way, even if it will take more time.
The Assembly has eyes everywhere.
Even as far as this very room, and admitting that galls me.
Doesn’t matter though.
We’re on to them, and as long as we do this inconspicuously, they won’t even see us coming.
Across from me, Elliot flips through a stack of papers casually in the way only a predator can be.
Beside him sits Hazam, arms folded across his broad chest.
Ben leans back in his chair, while Cobalt stares at the charts pinned to the wall.
“The latest numbers?” Elliot asks.
I slide a report forward.
“The infection rate has slowed considerably over the last week. The healers and researchers are finding some good antibodies to help their bodies fight the contamination, but there is still a need for caution until we can find a cure.”
A cure, which, as of this moment hs been created and secretly distributed to the ill.
Several heads nod as the information is passed around.
“How much?” Ben asks.
“Roughly thirty percent.”
That earns a few surprised looks.
Hazam whistles.
“That’s better than expected.
A few of my pack have already come back to the standard wings.”
“It is,” I agree.
“However, we have to remember that we were extremely lucky. The researchers determined that the small trace amounts allowed the poison not to be fatal. If larger portions had been ingested, we’d be planning a funeral.”
I leave the information like a worm on a hook.
Watching what happens to the Alpha’s faces as they realize how close they came to losing their pack members.
Any true Alpha would be horrified at the thought of his pride mates being hurt under his watch, and to show them how close death was should inspire some type of reaction out of them.
Cobalt taps his fingers against the table, his jaw flexing as he speaks.
“Why has a solution not been found if we are able to get positive recovery rates?”
It is a fair question.
I keep my expression neutral.
“The team is still studying several possibilities. There are two compounds taking time to identify. We’re exploring the possibility that they are magical compounds and not natural ones.”
That isn’t exactly a lie.
Ben frowns.
The older Alphas worry, causing a ripple of m’s across his brow.
“And what about the weapons? Have they managed to infuse them with magic?”
Cobalt leans forward ever so slightly.
“We’re making great progress with weapon construction, and the team assigned to imbue the magic believes they are on the cusp of actualizing the method.”
“So a double impasse, then,” Hazem says.
“Yes.”
My wolf stops pacing.
One is interested in magic, and the other is consumed by the devastation of the illness.
That doesn’t automatically make them guilty.
I’m aware.
That doesn’t make their behaviors any less noteworthy.
I know.
The problem is figuring out which Alpha is putting on airs.
Elliot clears his throat.
“What about the Assembly activity? Have the scouts uncovered anything about their assembling forces?”
So far, our scouts have been able to see that the Assembly and the warriors were in fact regrouping and using Hunter Fortress as a base of operations, but they haven’t been able to uncover specifics.
“The hunters’ stronghold is their base, but there hasn’t been much movement out of the place.
Ransom and Hazel seem sure that they are preparing to attack outright and are weaponizing themselves.”
“Fuck,” Ben curses.
I feel the same.
An enemy under illusion is the hardest one to defend against.
The Assembly has become increasingly difficult to track.
Every time we get close, they disappear back into that building.
That is their game.
They are trying to have the upper hand by hiding their movements and using their dog to learn all of ours.
I fold my hands together.
“Until we identify their next move, we continue strengthening our defenses and protecting recovered members.”
Nobody argues.
The discussion shifts toward patrol schedules, supply routes, and regional concerns.
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