Ruthless Mate

twenty seven

"You attack head on, you'll lose half the wolves you have, Chris. Try taking them on through the east, weeding through the forest and killing them off one by one." The bright sunlight patched through the stained glass window behind Christian's desk and onto my face. Christian himself sat in his stupid chair, hands folded and thinking to himself. His face was contorted into a stressed look. For the last few days he's had nothing but stress. He wakes up in the middle of the night or doesn't eat from the weight of it, and I'm afraid if he doesn't go through with this plan soon, he'll go absolutely crazy.

It's been two days. Numbers have definitely gone up, according to the patrols, but not a high enough amount. Yet.

Alpha here thinks taking them head on will get the job done quicker with less of a chance of more rogues coming to help. I think it'll end up with more wolves on our side dead then need be.

"Yes that's smart but it give the rogues more time to escape if word catches out." He countered, looking up from the desk and to the map in my hands.

Behind me, Mario hovered over my shoulder, glancing at the entirety of our pack's land and possible attack methods.

In the back of my head, I do wonder if Christian is angry that a guy is so close to me. I mean, he usually is, even if the man is like ten feet away and doing his own thing. I'm surprised he hasn't growled at Mario or just yelled at him then and there. That's just showing how much this rogue affair is taking a toll on him. He's too anxious and stressed  to pay attention. And a stressed alpha means a stressed pack.

"Why don't we try both? Start off with Alena's plan, then if they catch on, we'll have an entire army waiting to take them head on." Mario suggested, looking from me to the alpha.

Christian sat back, glancing wearily from me to Mario. His face already bore the urgent need for a solution, but it otherwise didn't contradict the idea.

"We'll need to surround them. Place a few wolves on the western and northern side. That way if they don't run the way we want them to, we'll still be prepared."

Christian said this with a certain authority. It was hard to hear that from him the past few days. We have found a decent plan to ease the tension and reduce the risk of total destruction of this pack. I think he's starting to become a little more confident, and thankfully too. Seeing that egotistic, big alpha all broken down and nervous was kind of unnerving.

"Alert the Warriors that their training will be extended, and pack duties reduced. Have the patrols doubled, as we cannot risk another infiltration. As for you, I want you training the Warriors yourself." He commanded. Mario instantly nodded his head before muttering a slight "Alpha," and quickly disappearing through the dark, wooden door.

"We need to figure out when," I said, staring at Christian as he stood from the desk. Slowly he rose, running a hand through the messy, dark hair. He didn't appear as formal or sophisticated as usual, but with just regular jeans and a shirt, I think I may have found a better liking to him. At least, a liking to feeling somewhat normal.

"I'll handle that. I have a job for you," he said, striding over to the chair in front of the elegant desk and leaning up against it.

My eyebrows furrowed together. What can I possibly do? "Yeah?"

"Look," he bit his lip anxiously, "I'm gonna need you out there too. But you and I will be doing a little mission of our own." Our own? What's he gotta tell me? And more importantly, what are we even doing while half the pack fights?

"You, me, Mario, and a couple of our best warriors are heading towards what we think is the 'base' of the rogues camp. While half of the rogues, possibly even more, are out fighting, the leader may have stayed behind. Now that's where you come in."

Who knew that words could strike someone as hard as these did. The leader of the rogues, the "alpha" as you could put it. He's the one who recruited Bella, attacked at the ceremony and left wolves dead. He's the one, according to Christian, that wants me. The one who isn't afraid to do what it takes either.

"What do I have to do with that  bastard?" I muttered. His silver eyes darted up to mine. They were cloudy, like the type of clouds you see before a massive thunderstorms hits. Lightning seemed to strike wherever his eyes glanced, rain pouring from the angry irises like a flash flood.

"You're gonna kill him."