Chapter 27: List of Agendas

Killian sat in his room, surrounded by his closest advisors – Aurelius, Bron, Desmond, and Helga. They were deep in conversation about their plans for the future, specifically their dwindling supplies and how they could restock once they reached the Outlands. Helga had just informed Killian that their supplies were almost gone, and that they wouldn't last a month once they landed in Outland.
Killian leaned forward in his high-backed chair, his face etched with concern. "How much did we manage to loot from the Black Hollows pack?" he inquired, turning to Aurelius.
Aurelius scoured through his tattered notes before answering. "We managed to seize twenty sacks of wheat, alongside potatoes, carrots, rice, beans, grains, and a few fowl, such as chickens, ducks, turkeys, and even pigs."
As Aurelius handed the list to Killian, Bron raised an eyebrow and smirked at him. "Notes, really?" he teased. "Still stuck in the old school ways, I see. Why not use a tablet like the rest of us?"
Aurelius rolled his eyes. "I prefer the tactile sensation of a pen and paper," he retorted.
Desmond chuckled. "Whatever works for you, old man," he said with a grin.
Helga interjected, "Let's not bicker about note-taking, shall we? We have more important matters at hand."
Killian perused the notebook, his mind whirling with intricate calculations. "This won't suffice to sustain us for long," he muttered, his fingers drumming incessantly on the tabletop.
Helga interjected with her suggestion. "We could stop at Mariner's Landing and procure some fish and seafood, Alpha."
Helga was a woman who looked like she was born ready for whatever might happen next. She was a formidable woman, with broad shoulders and powerful arms that could easily lift a grown man. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a tight braid, and her eyes were sharp and focused.
Her physical appearance and demeanor reminded all of a skilled warrior, one who was feared and respected by all who knew her. She was a skilled fighter, with years of training under her belt. Her loyalty to Killian was unwavering, and he knew that he could always count on her in times of trouble.
"Yes , and Tillage Town could provide us with an abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables," Desmond interposed, his voice laced with confidence.
Bron, the cool and composed assassin, added his input. "Not to mention, if we stop by Orchardstead, we can acquire some dried and cured meats and a few bottles of wine, in case of any unexpected contingencies."
"Or we could venture towards Freebay, for more supplies," Aurelius offered, her voice tinged with eagerness.
Killian shook his head in disagreement. "We can't afford to take on more cargo. The ship won't be able to hold it."
Bron frowned. “But we can’t just let our supplies run out. We need to come up with a solution.”
Bron was a tall man with chiseled features and short-cropped hair. His eyes were sharp and observant, and he always seemed to be one step ahead of everyone else. He spoke rarely, but when he did, his words carried weight and authority.
Desmond, on the other hand, was shorter and more wiry, with a quick mind and even quicker reflexes. His movements were lightning-fast, and he always seemed to be on edge, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. His sharp wit and dry sense of humor often provided a much-needed break in tense situations.
Together, they made a formidable team, with skills that complemented each other perfectly. They were cool and collected under pressure, never letting their emotions get the best of them. They were the kind of men who could accomplish any task, no matter how difficult or dangerous it might be.
Killian listened to his men’s argument, silently weighing their options, his mind racing with possibilities. Finally, he spoke up again, "We'll have to unload, refuel, and sail again to only get supplies and food from Freebay," he said, finally reaching a decision.
The others nodded, satisfied with the plan. They moved on to their next topic of discussion – Red Dawn.
Desmond updated them on the progress they had made so far. "We've sent invitations to the alphas of the Moonshadow Pack, Silverfur Clan, Darkmoon Clan, and Grimclaw Pack for our secret gathering," he said, "and we've already received responses from Nightshade Clan and Blackheart Pack confirming their attendance."
Killian leaned forward, his eyes focused on Desmond as he listened intently to his report. "And what of the Shadowmoon Pack? Are they with us?"
Bron shook his head. "Unfortunately, the Shadowmoon Pack remains loyal to the Royal Council, as do the rest of the packs in the North East."
Bron cleared his throat, his eyes darting over to Aurelius with a mischievous glint. "Still loyal to the Royal Council, as do the rest of the packs in the North East."
Aurelius heaved another sigh, his frustration palpable. The weight of their daunting task was bearing down on him. "The Shadowmoon Pack is an influential pack that holds a strategic position in the south," he explained. "Their stronghold serves as the gateway to the mainland, which is where the Royal Council is headquartered."
Killian chimed in, nodding his agreement. "Indeed. And this means that if they are not an ally, they can prevent Killian's men from advancing towards the Royal Council's location, making it more challenging for them to launch an attack or gather support from other packs in the south. Essentially, the Shadowmoon Pack's position gives them the ability to control the movement of troops and resources, making them a key player in any potential conflict."
Aurelius shot Killian a grim look. "And winning them over won't be easy. They've long been loyal to the Royal Council, and their leader, Alpha Lucas, is a shrewd negotiator. It will take more than just an invitation to our gathering to persuade them to join our cause."
Desmond nodded solemnly. "It's not just the Shadowmoon Pack. We've also been receiving reports of other packs that are hesitant to join us. They fear the power of the Royal Council and what will happen if we fail."
Killian slammed his fist on the table. "We can't let fear control us. We need to convince these packs to join us. We need to show them that we have a chance at victory."
Bron smirked, looking over at Aurelius. "Maybe if you ditch those ancient notes and switch to a tablet, you'll convince them we're not living in the past."
Aurelius scowled, but the others laughed. Despite the tension, they knew they needed to keep their spirits high if they were going to have any chance of success.
Killian leaned back in his seat, a look of deep contemplation etched on his face. "What can we do to sway them to our cause?" he asked, his voice heavy with the weight of the responsibility that rested on his shoulders.
Bron cleared his throat, his eyes glinting with mischief. "We could always try sending them a singing troupe," he said, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Aurelius here could pen them a ditty about the glory of our cause. I'm sure they'll be swayed by the beauty of his words."
Aurelius bristled at the jibe. "I'll have you know, I'm perfectly capable of using a tablet," he retorted, a hint of indignation in his voice. "I just prefer the feel of parchment and ink."
Desmond chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "We all know you're an old-fashioned man at heart, Aurelius," he said. "But let's focus on more practical solutions. Perhaps we could offer them something in return for their allegiance. Something that they can't refuse."
“Desmond, send someone to the Shadowmoon Pack immediately," he ordered. "I want to know what moves their Alpha, what motivates him, and what it will take to bring them to our side. We need to be prepared for any eventuality,” Killian ordered Desmond.
“Understood, Alpha,” Desmond said.
Then Helga turned to Killian. “How about your mate, Alpha?”
Killian heaved a deep and weary sigh, the weight of his burdens evident in the heavy exhalation.
“You know you need them to make it work,” she said. “As absurd as it may sound, it has to be all four of you.”
Killian's jaw clenched, his wolf growling within him. He wasn't sure he was ready for what was to come, but he knew he had no choice. "I'll deal with my wolf when that day comes," he said, his voice low and steady.
As they delved into the matters on their agenda, their discussion was rudely interrupted by the sudden intrusion of one of Killian's men. The sound of the door crashing against the wall reverberated through the room, causing the heads of Aurelius, Bron, Helga, and Desmond to snap towards the intruder. Their expressions shifted from annoyance to concern as they saw the look of urgency on his face.
"What is it?" Killian demanded, his voice laced with irritation.
"It's Lemon," the man said, his tone urgent. "She's in trouble. You need to come quick."
Aurelius jumped to his feet, his concern evident. "What happened? Is she sick again? Did she vomit?"
The man shook his head. "It's not that. Vanya is holding her hostage.
Aurelius shot to his feet, his face contorting with anger. "What? That woman!" he spat.
Killian eyed Aurelius and stood up abruptly, his jaw clenching in frustration. "Shit."