<h4>Chapter 215: More Hands on Deck</h4>


    <strong><i>Draven.</i></strong>


    The study was dimly lit, with only the golden light of the deskmp casting shadows across the deep mahogany furniture.


    I leaned back in my chair, one leg folded across the other, my fingers steepled under my chin as Dennis and Jeffery gave their reports.


    Jeffery went first.


    "The meeting was a joke," he said, his voice tight with barely veiled contempt. "Brackham and his allies..."


    I nodded once. I hadn’t expected anything more. "They are still trying to buy more time."


    Then Dennis spoke, his tone more subdued. "We stopped for lunch at one of the local ces. While eating, we overheard a woman talking to her friend — it sounded like she was the same woman you told us about. The one who was taken."


    My attention sharpened.


    "She said she was sedated and locked in a cell for a little over two weeks. Heard voices talking about ’termination,’ ’phase three,’ and ’specimens.’ Then she woke up dumped on the streets... with her baby gone."


    I exhaled slowly, not out of shock, but bitter affirmation. "They made a mistake."


    Dennis tilted his head, waiting for more.


    "They should have killed her," I said tly, meeting both of their eyes. "Now that she’s survived and knows her own kind did this to her, she won’t stay silent. Word will spread. No matter how Brackham spins it — even if he keeps ming ’organ harvesters’ — this is going to spiral."


    Jeffery frowned. "You think it will unravel everything they’ve built?"


    "Eventually," I replied. "Their dreamy attempt to paint us as monsters and themselves as victims is going to backfire. They thought it was a clean trick. They underestimated the chaos a single grieving mother can cause."


    I didn’t need anyone to tell me this. Brackham will definitely one day resort to trying to defame us just so he and his cohorts will get away with their madness.


    Dennis leaned forward now, fire lighting in his eyes. "Then the sooner we find thatb, the better. We can’t let it keep running. Once we have the evidence, we raise it to dust."


    I looked at him. "I never intended to let it survive. Thatb was always going to burn—I just need it to burn with proof."


    Jeffery nodded. "Still... once we destroy it, Brackham and his people will know we were behind it. They will connect the dots."


    "They will," I agreed. "But they will be toote to stop it."


    Dennis’s mouth curled into a grim line. "I don’t trust them to lick their wounds quietly. They are too shameless, too arrogant... too wicked. If they lose theb, they will surely retaliate."


    "They will," I said. "And I’m expecting it."


    That drew both of them to silence for a beat. I continued.


    "Especially if there’s no vampire interference. Brackham will start the war himself. Which is why we must be prepared for whatever we ignite. If this is the act that breaks the peace treaty, then history will record exactly how it happened—how the humans crossed the line first, and how we answered after exercising patience for months."


    Jeffery looked down at his hands, then spoke again. "Until then, we need to hold our ground. I suggest none of our people enter Duskmoor. We need to contain this."


    Dennis nodded beside him. "Agreed. We should be thinking of getting our people out of here safely. Not bringing more into the fire."


    Their reasoning was sound.


    "I will speak with King Alderic," I said. "Request a travel ban on werewolves leaving Stormveil anding into Duskmoor. Effective immediately."


    That earned two nods of approval.


    I watched them stand and leave, then leaned back again in my chair, eyes drifting to the slowly dying fire in the hearth.


    I remained seated for a moment longer, then I picked up my phone from the desk and dialled a number.


    Two rings after, a voice answered, brisk and respectful. "Good afternoon, Alpha Draven."


    "I need to speak with His Majesty," I said. "If he’s avable."


    "One moment, Alpha. I will patch you through."


    There was a short silence—just the soft click of a transfer—before I heard the faint rustling of motion and someone announcing in the background, "It’s Alpha Draven."


    A beat passed, and then I heard his voice—clear, regal, and edged with fatigue. "Draven."


    "Your Majesty," I greeted. "It’s good to hear your voice."


    "Likewise," Alderic responded. "I trust things in Duskmoor are as under control as always?"


    "As much as they can be," I said. "How’s progress on the Great Wall?"


    "All hands are on deck," Alderic replied. "We’vemitted the finest minds and resources to see it done. The wall is halfway built already. We are moving at twice the normal speed."


    I exhaled sharply, not from relief. It wasn’t enough.


    "It has to be done within three months or less," I said firmly. "I’m starting to sense we may not have that long. The air in Duskmoor is changing, and I don’t like the direction of the wind."


    There was a pause before Alderic responded. "I will tighten the deadlines and reallocate more resources if I must."


    "Good," I said. "Also, I need a travel ban in ce. Effective immediately."


    "A travel ban?" he echoed.


    "No werewolf from Stormveil is toe into Duskmoor. Not for visits, not for trade, not for anything."


    There was a beat of silence. Then Alderic’s voice turned serious.


    "What’s going on, Draven? What about the treaty, has itpletely fallen apart? What about Brackham?"


    I leaned forward slightly in my chair, voice steady but guarded. "There’s a facility. Brackham and his senators are running it. They are experimenting on humans and I suspect, our kind as well. It’s dangerous. Illegal. If it leaks, it will ignite the entire region."


    Another pause followed. I could already sense Alderic shifting in his chair across the phone line.


    "I will exin everything soon," I said quickly, cutting off the questions I knew were forming. "I wille to Stormveil in the next few days. When I do, I will ce every scrap of intel we’ve gathered on your desk—down to thest whisper."


    A long silence followed. Then Alderic’s voice returned, low and resolute.


    "I will hold you to that, Draven."


    "You should."


    "I will enforce the travel ban. No one enters Duskmoor from our side until further notice."


    "Thank you," I said.


    "We have to make sure the Great Wall holds," Alderic added, voice harder now. "If war breaks out—if this explodes like you think it will—we will need that barrier."


    I nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. "That wall will be the difference between survival and extinction. The defence system surrounding it must be strong—runes, weapon grids, personnel, all of it. No weak links."


    "It will be done," Alderic said. "You have my word. Be safe, Alpha."