"Then we don’t charge at him head on but organize a sneak attack," Elijah gestured animatedly at Micah. "You can teleport now, can’t you? Just grab the cardinal alphas and vanish, end him before he blinks, poof, and return back. Plan executed."
Micah’s lips pressed into a thin line as he gave his uncle the shittest look. He should have known the man would never change.
He spoke through gritted teeth, "Even witches can create wards that keep out teleporters like me. You certainly don’t think the man who sired me hasn’t considered the possibility of me appearing—" he paused, making a mocking motion with his hand, "poof—and taking his head. He would have already put measures in place. And how am I supposed to know he’ll even be there when I show up to end him?"
Now that Micah pointed it out, it was clear Elijah’s suggestion made no sense. He was practically telling his nephew to walk into a trap. But no one called him out on it. Not when his pride filled the entire room.
Elijah only shrugged. "It was just a suggestion. Even fathers might expect surprise visits from sons who can appear whenever they like. There’s always a chance the wards won’t hold."
The Alpha King was being petty now, and no one stepped in as the tension between them grew thicker.
"Oh, let me give you a possibility," Micah’s voice rose slightly. "How about we lure Angus out instead? Tell him his beloved brother is finally giving up the throne before the deadline." His eyes lit up at the thought.
Except Micah’s idea, meant to spite his uncle, turned out to be a good one.
Irene widened, interested. "That is actually a good idea."
"I am not giving up this throne," Elijah growled, his eyes flashing with warning.
"No one said you were," Irene replied, holding back a sigh. "It’s a lie to lure Angus out."
Elijah was truly a pain in the ass, and she couldn’t help but think of Beatrice, who had endured him all these years.
And whether he liked it or not, Violet was the true heir to that throne. Once she returned, that would be a discussion no one could avoid.
"I don’t think Angus would fall for it," Aeron added, speaking from experience. "Even a blind man would see through that kind of trap."
"Angus is smart. He’ll know it’s a trap," Sub-alpha Will said, his gaze fixed on Elijah without hesitation. "But if there’s one thing men like him hold onto, it’s their pride. He wouldn’t miss the chance to see the brother who took his crown brought down to his feet, trap or not."
Silence followed.
Everyone’s attention shifted between Elijah and Will. With the history between them, it was clear the sub-alpha hadn’t just spoken out of strategy. There was intent behind those words.
"Hot damn," Roman let out a low whistle, clearly entertained by the tension. Not every sub-alpha had the guts to speak to Elijah like that. He liked whatever kind of madness Will was running on.
With the way Elijah glared at Will, Roman could already picture it—Elijah rising to his feet and declaring, "Off with his head," while his guards stormed in to drag Will away, the man kicking and screaming, cursing Elijah and his entire bloodline.
Except—no pun intended—Elijah had no generation. Hehe.
Quite unfortunately, Roman’s imagination didn’t go as planned. Elijah simply ignored Alpha Will, although something told him deep down that the Alpha King might be quietly marking the man for death.
Rest in peace, Will. You were beloved for your few minutes of fame.
"In that case," Elijah began, "since my brother knows we intend to lure him to his death, he’ll come with enough force. But this is our territory, and we’ll be fully prepared for him."
"Hopefully," Micah replied, a little bothered.
Wolves were strong, but they were built for close combat, unlike witches who could strike from a distance. And Angus had an entire battalion of them.
They had none.
Micah had already reached out to Samantha, asking for her help, but she had refused without hesitation. To them, defeating Angus was a lost cause. Not to mention, witches operated in covens. Their own was small, and they had no interest in provoking the larger, more powerful covens from Duskmoon Village.
And to them, this war wasn’t theirs. It was between wolves. Wolves had never cared about their survival, so why should they care now?
What they failed to see was Angus’s idea of domination didn’t stop with wolves. No one would be spared if he won.
Micah was certain he could still convince her. Or she and her coven could all stay locked in Lunaris Academy, waiting for the zombie situation to clear.
"We’ll take that bastard out." Griffin clenched his fist as he spoke, his muscles tightening, veins standing out along his arm.
"Let’s work on our strategy then," Micah said, ready to put out the ideas he had.
"Urm... excuse me," Leon cut in, his voice edged with challenge. "I didn’t realize you’d be the one leading us into this battle?"
Micah’s brows drew together. "Excuse me?"

"If the boy can do it, then let him."

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