The Princess's Revenge Chapter 114

Logan’s POV

"Ridiculous," Elton muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear. His lip curled with contempt. "A stupid bitch as Alpha? She'll run Mistmarsh Pack into the ground within a year."

Every head at the table turned toward him. Kestrel's eyes found Elton across the table. Her expression remained carefully neutral, but I caught the flash of anger in her gaze. When she spoke, her voice was ice. "We are allies, Elton. Or have you forgotten?"

It wasn't a question. It was a warning.

Elton's face flushed red, but he bit back whatever retort was forming on his tongue. His jaw clenched. He glared at Kestrel but said nothing more.

"Now that the succession is settled," Winston said weakly, "we must address the real threat. Aldermere's invasion is imminent. We need a unified defense strategy."

I straightened in my chair. "Cliffwatch Pack holds the longest border with Aldermere—approximately eighty-five percent of the entire northern frontier. The Grey River runs along most of that line."

"The river is wide and deep," I continued. "The current is strong, especially during spring melt. On our side, the terrain rises steeply—rocky cliffs and high ground. It's defensible terrain. Any army trying to cross would be exposed and vulnerable."

Beta Grover nodded thoughtfully. "A natural barrier."

"What about the other fifteen percent?" Soren asked.

"Mistmarsh Pack holds about ten percent," Kestrel spoke up, her voice steady. "But our section is entirely marshlands and swamps. The ground is too soft for large troop movements. Horses would sink. Heavy equipment would be impossible to transport. It's impassable for any organized military force."

I glanced at Elton, waiting to see if he would speak. When he remained silent, I continued. "Emerald Grove Pack. That five percent is all flatland—open plains with few natural obstacles. It's the most vulnerable point of our entire northern border."

The implications settled over the room.

"Flatland," Soren repeated softly. "Easy terrain for cavalry. Clear lines of advance for infantry formations."

"Exactly," I said. "If Aldermere chooses to invade, that's where they'll come through."

Elton's laugh cut through the tension—harsh and mocking. "Five percent? You're worrying about five fucking percent of the border?" He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. "The border section is barely fifty miles long. That's nothing. Even if Ashwood's army tries to cross there, we can hold them easily."

His eyes found mine, and his smile turned cruel. "Maybe you should worry about your own territory, Logan. Eighty-five percent is a lot of ground to defend. Must keep you up at night, knowing how much you could lose."

I held his gaze, my expression unchanged. "At least my territory has natural defenses. What do you have? Open fields?"

Elton's smile faltered.

"The Grey River has protected the north for centuries," I said coldly. "Your plains? They're an invitation."

"Enough," Winston interjected. "We're supposed to be planning a defense, not arguing among ourselves."

Soren tried next, proposing joint patrols and shared intelligence networks. Kestrel suggested supply-sharing agreements. Even Winston attempted to assign specific defensive responsibilities to each pack.

Nothing worked. This council was fractured beyond repair. There would be no unified strategy. No coordinated defense.

Elton dismissed every proposal that didn't put him in command. Kestrel was too new to her position to command respect from the others. Winston was too weak to enforce any decisions. And Soren, the chaos was what he wanted.

Hours passed. The sun moved across the sky, casting long shadows through the high windows. Servants came and went, bringing fresh water and wine. But we made no progress.

I watched it all with growing frustration. Valencia's hand remained in mine throughout, her presence the only thing keeping my temper in check. Through our bond, I felt her worry for what this failure meant for the future.

We're doomed, I thought grimly. When Ashwood comes, we'll be fighting alone.

Finally, as the afternoon light began to fade, Winston raised his hand. "Perhaps we should take a break," he said. "The evening banquet has been prepared. We can continue our discussions tomorrow."

Chairs scraped against stone as everyone stood. The relief in the room was palpable. I helped Valencia to her feet, my hand resting at her back. She looked up at me, and I saw my own concerns reflected in her eyes.

We were filing out of the Hall of Alphas when a palace servant appeared at my side. The young man bowed deeply, his eyes downcast.

"Alpha Logan," he said quietly. "Alpha King Winston requests a private audience with Luna Valencia. He wishes to speak with her alone."

The words hit me like a physical blow. Every muscle in my body tensed. Alone?

"No," I said immediately. The word came out harder than I intended. "Whatever my father wants to say, he can say it with me present."

The servant shifted uncomfortably. "The Alpha King was quite specific, Alpha. He wishes to speak with Luna Valencia privately."

Valencia's hand touched my arm. "Logan—"

"No," I repeated, turning to face her. "Absolutely not. I don't trust him. I don't trust any of them." I glanced at the servant. "Tell my father if he wants to speak with Valencia, I'll be present."

"Logan, think about it. The situation is unclear. We're essentially blind right now. We need information—any advantage we can get."

"Not like this," I growled. "Not by putting you alone in a room with a man like him."

"I'll be careful," she said softly. "But this could be important. Your father clearly wants to tell me something he doesn't want you to hear. Don't you want to know what that is?"

I wanted to argue. Wanted to forbid it outright. The thought of Valencia alone with Winston made every protective instinct I had scream in warning.

But she was right. Damn her, she was right.

We needed information. And if Winston was willing to reveal something to Valencia alone—then we needed to know what it was.

"Fine," I bit out finally. "But I'm waiting right outside the door. If I hear anything I don't like—"

"I know," Valencia interrupted gently. "Thank you for trusting me."

Trust. The word felt like a knife in my gut. I did trust her. It was everyone else I didn't trust.

The servant led us through the palace corridors. Elias, Ryan, Bastian, and Thomas fell into step behind us. We reached a private audience chamber. Winston sat in a chair by the window, looking even more frail in the fading daylight.

Valencia squeezed my hand once, then released it. I watched her disappear into the chamber. The servant closed the door with a soft click.