The War Room Test
The morning after the Mate Fever spike was filled with a chilling quiet. I hadn't slept, but the confrontation had somehow cleared the raw agony, leaving behind a cold, sharp ache of realization. Demetrius was terrified of his own needs, and that fear was my only leverage.
I was expecting punishment, more guards, smaller rooms, less food. Instead, a new, much older Lycan guard appeared. He was not one of Rhys's men; he wore the emblem of the Royal Guard's oldest unit, a unit known for its loyalty to the throne, not the current politics. His name was Icarus, and he treated me with quiet, weary respect. My former guard, Finn, was gone, just as Demetrius had ordered in his panic the night before.
At midday, Icarus delivered a curt message: "The King requires the Luna in the Central War Room. Immediately."
My heart hammered. This was the real test. No more court theater, no more social snares. This was about the war, the canyon, and the reason I was still breathing.
The Central War Room was huge, a circular chamber dominated by a single, massive relief map carved into stone, covering the entire central floor. It was a perfect, detailed replica of the entire Kingdom and the surrounding territories, including the disputed lands and the forbidden Shadow Canyons.
The air in the room was thick with the scent of old paper, strategy, and nervous Alpha ambition.
When I entered, I was met by silence and hostility. There were at least fifteen high-ranking officials present: grizzled Generals, data analysts, supply chain masters, and, of course, Rhys.
Rhys stood closest to the King, his expression a mask of icy control, but his eyes promised violence. He was watching me like a starving predator.
King Demetrius stood opposite the map. He wore his battle uniform—dark, tailored leather that made him look like a statue of war. He was magnificent and terrifying. He looked tired, but the exhaustion only sharpened the cold edge in his eyes. He ignored the entire court, focusing only on me.
"Luna Esmeralda," he stated, his voice flat and formal. "You are late. Time is life here. Do not waste it."
I walked toward the map, meeting his gaze. "I apologize, Your Majesty. I was not informed of the necessary protocols for this chamber."
Rhys stepped forward, his voice a low growl. "There are no protocols, omega. There is only the King's command. Do not speak unless spoken to."
"Rhys," Demetrius cut him off instantly, a warning in the King's tone. "The Luna will speak when she has useful information. She is here to advise, not to be disciplined."
Rhys stepped back, his face tight with barely contained fury. He clearly hated that Demetrius still used the lie to protect me.
Demetrius gestured toward the map. "You have claimed knowledge of the old, forgotten access points to the Shadow Canyons. We have reached an impasse. The Human Hunters have fortified every recognized route. We need a path that is not on any known map."
He walked closer to the canyon region on the map, a deeply carved, jagged section that looked like the teeth of a giant beast.
"We need the path only the Silver-Eyed Rogues knew. The path that will save the Kingdom. Now, you will prove your value, Luna. Show the council where the Aegis Initiative will not expect us."
The pressure was immense. Every pair of eyes was daring me to fail. This wasn't about a minor court challenge; this was about the war's main strategy. If I made a mistake, Demetrius would lose faith, and my contract would be revoked.
I took a deep breath and stepped up to the map. The stone felt cool under my fingertips. I didn't need to guess. I needed to let the talisman guide me.
I closed my eyes briefly, focusing on the small, smooth stone I still wore on a string under my thick Luna robes. I concentrated on the memory of the light it had shown me during the capture, the vision of the hidden streams and ancient rocks.
When I opened my eyes, the stone map didn't just show contours; it felt like a living memory.
I pointed not to the obvious mountain passes, but to a deep, narrow gorge that seemed to lead only to a sheer cliff face.
"Here," I said, my voice gaining strength and confidence as the vision solidified. "This is the False Pass of the Watchers."
A general immediately scoffed. "That is nonsense! That pass is a sheer drop, Luna. It has been surveyed a thousand times."
I ignored the General, keeping my eyes fixed on Demetrius. His expression was impossible to read, a blank slate of expectation.
"It is a sheer drop now," I clarified, moving my finger slightly to trace an almost invisible fissure in the stone carving. "But the ancient rogues did not use the mountains. They used the water. The flow of the glacial melt used to follow this fault line, eroding the back wall over millennia."
I knelt closer to the stone map, tracing a specific location with careful accuracy. "The old path begins here, at the base of the cliff. It is sealed by a natural rock slide, but the slide is composed of sedimentary limestone. The rogue packs knew how to use sound frequencies—a specific howl or drum rhythm, to temporarily destabilize the soft rock just enough to crawl through a concealed opening."
The room was utterly silent now. The analysts were leaning forward, scrutinizing the map.
"The Lycans have always searched for a door," I continued, feeling the strange, cold logic of the rogue memory flow into me. "They needed a crack. This fissure, about three hundred meters from the cliff edge, should lead to a small cavern known as the Silent Antechamber. From there, you are inside the main canyon network, bypassing the heavily fortified front lines entirely."
I stood up, stepping back from the map, my heart pounding in my ears. I had just risked everything on a memory triggered by a piece of magic.
Rhys scoffed again, loudly this time. "This is ludicrous fantasy! We are not going to risk an entire battalion on the whim of a rejected omega who claims ancestral magic!"
"But what if she is right, Rhys?" General Bellerophon, the Chief Strategist, spoke up, his eyes thoughtful. "The thermal imaging data on that section of the cliff has always been unstable. We assumed it was mineral interference, but what if it's air flow through a crack?"
Demetrius finally spoke, his gaze piercing me, searching for the lie, searching for the fear. "You are precise, Esmeralda. Too precise for someone who just heard a legend. How do you know the rhythmic frequency required to break the limestone seal?"
This was the hardest part. I had to give him information he could use, but not the truth of the talisman.
I looked at him, lowering my voice slightly, letting the forced Luna title drop away. "I do not know the exact frequency, Your Majesty. That knowledge would only be known by the pack leaders. But I know the method. The rogues used a specific pattern of three short howls followed by one long, low growl. It was a rhythmic pulse, like a heartbeat. Any geologist could pinpoint the resonant frequency of the local limestone based on that audible pattern."
I met his eye with defiant confidence. "I do not offer you magic, King. I offer you an engineering problem solved by desperate people."
The room buzzed with sudden, urgent chatter. The analysts were already scrambling for their instruments, looking up geological data on the area.
Demetrius walked around the map, stopping right in front of me. The Mate Bond, suppressed but present, pulsed hotly between us. He was close enough that I could see the tiny lines of exhaustion around his eyes.
He lowered his head slightly, his voice for my ears only, sharp as a drawn blade. "If that entire battalion is slaughtered because you lied to me, Luna, I will not simply execute you. I will dismantle you piece by piece and feed you to the winter wolves."
He straightened up, his voice booming for the council. "General Bellerophon, prepare a small, specialized reconnaissance unit. I want that fissure and the Silent Antechamber confirmed within twelve hours. We will use the rhythmic acoustic patterns the Luna described. Move!"
The Generals snapped to attention, saluting before rushing out of the room, energized by the new, desperate plan.
Rhys remained, his eyes cold daggers aimed at my throat.
"You have won a dangerous reprieve, omega," Rhys muttered under his breath as the others cleared the room. "But you have convinced him you are not just a tool, but a threat. That is a far riskier position."
I met Rhys's deadly gaze, the exhaustion and fear replaced by a strange, cool resolve. "You underestimate me, Beta. I know exactly how risky my position is. But if the King wins the war, I survive. If you betray him first, we both burn."
Rhys gave a chilling, humorless smile. "We shall see who burns first, Luna." He then turned and left, following the King.
I stood alone in the center of the war room, surrounded by maps and plans, the faint scent of Demetrius still heavy in the air. I walked back to the stone map, tracing the line of the False Pass.
I am smart enough to survive him, I thought, touching the rough stone. But I am not powerful enough to escape him.
The realization was a heavy chain around my heart. I was trapped, relying on the success of his war to guarantee my continued, miserable life. But for the first time, I felt a strange flicker of pride. I hadn't just survived; I had delivered a strategy that might actually save thousands of Lycan lives. And that, more than any title,
made the Mate Bond ache just a little bit less.