A War on Two Fronts
Donovan
Donovan slammed his hands on his desk, snarls ripping through his chest as he watched the conference held by his niece. "That brat has the audacity to declare my throne as hers?!"
Jameson stepped forward, "Sire we need to think rationally about our next steps."
"Rationally?! This problem should have been handled years ago, Jameson. I trusted you, I listened to your smoke filled words that she would rot away in that forest and wouldn't be an issue. That all the years I spent searching were just wasted time because she was mulch for the trees, bones for the animals to make their homes out of, a disgusted memory that I would forget." He snarled at the spark, stalking him with every step and pointed at the girl speaking in the comm orb, "Does that look like a dead girl Jameson?! Does that look like I need to think rationally?!"
Fear rolled off the spark in giant waves, his collected demeanor long gone, "Donovan-"
"Do not call me that! I am your King!" He roared in his face, causing the spark to stumble back on to the floor.
"My King, she has no power, no army. There's nothing to worry about. We will take Whitehaven, dispose of the entire line. Problem solved." Jameson's voice wavered as he desperately tried to reach out to the surrounding flora, preparing to control the raging alpha. Pain filled his every being, white-hot fire flowing through his veins, feeling as if he was burning alive.
Donovan laughed hysterically, "Are you trying to hex your King?! Look around you, spark. Your precious magic won't work here. I made sure of it."
Purple eyes scanned the room, "Bloodroot..."
Donovan squatted down, grasping the spark's chin in his claws, "I had my suspicions about you Jameson. So I employed an actual dark spark, one that would do my bidding with no hesitation, and do you know what she told me?" He tightened his grip, leaning closer to whisper into the spark's ear, "You're lying to me."
"Donovan, no. I would never lie to you." He choked out, tears running down his cheeks.
A devilish grin painted the King's lips, fangs glinting in the light, "Rauva."
A dark haired female stepped out from the shadows, grey eyes burning bright as she harnessed the energy from the bloodroot. She sent it flying to the spark's heart, an ear piercing scream escaped Jameson's lips. His hands turning black and shriveling down to the bone, black veins traveling up his arms as the venom spread quickly through his body.
"Only dark spark's can touch bloodroot. You lied and posed as a dark spark." He leaned back, red eyes watching the nature spark before him slowly rotting away in his hands, "One can only assume that you were placed here by your lovely cousin to watch me, control me, weaken me, so that they can take my crown and throne."
The spark struggled, gasping for air, eyes widening as the decay spread through him, going limp as the rest of his body withered into nothing. He leaned forward one last time, whispering the last words the spark would ever hear, "Long live the King."
Jameson's eyes clouded over, the last breath leaving his body as Donovan let him drop to the floor. He stood and glanced at the dark spark waiting for her next order, "Send that to Whitehaven. If it's a war that brat wants, then a war she shall have."
He left the room without another word, making his way around the palace until he reached the war room, striding in and startling the generals that sat around the map. "We need to move quickly, take Tacoma, and start surrounding Whitehaven to suffocate them. How soon will we be ready?"
One decorated general cleared his throat and stood, glancing around the room before bowing his head to the King, "One month, sire."
Red eyes widened, claws extended into the table, cracking under his force, "One month? Do you realize how much destruction can be done in one month?! Do you realize you might not make out of this room in minutes much less than a month?"
"My King, war's are not won in a day, they take time to strategize thoroughly. Our soldiers are exhausted, and even if we use the remaining soldiers and prisoners to add men to our battalions...we still need at least two weeks to break them and train them. We will have Tacoma by the end of the day, but to move through and begin the assault on Whitehaven...it would be suicide my King." The scarred elder that spoke kept his eyes low, but his voice held firm under the blazing gaze of the Alpha.
"That child does not know how to lead an army, even one as strong as Whitehaven's. With Tacoma's and Rantock's men, we can take them easily by the end of the week. The askars that I have will make up for brute force, just give them a target and they will not stop until they are dead." The King rumbled, glaring at his head general.
A young tiger stood, his racing pulse echoing in Donovan's ears, "Sir, we just learned that the Icecap Kingdom and Itzmac have sided with Whitehaven, and there are whispers that highborns from other kingdoms are funneling their askars to her...That alone should make you pause."
His hand curled into a fist, blood began to drip from between his knuckles, "Do we have confirmation of these whispers?"
The elder spoke, this time lifting his gaze to the King, "Donovan, we are not asking you to not go to war. We all understand that she is a threat to your crown, and we have vowed to protect you and defend the crown until our last breath. We are asking for more time. As you said she is a child, she knows nothing other than being a soldier for all her life. Domhall was once a great general, but his balls have long since been held by Cilona who is no doubt against this war. Give us the time to prepare, and maybe, just maybe, Cilona may turn her over to you. After we take Tacoma, we can send a squadron to sit at the border and keep an eye on the roads for any movement. The castle itself is hidden in the mountains, and the winter snows are especially harsh, if you want to lose, we will move forward and attempt to storm the castle. If you want to win and have that child's head on your table...give us a month."
Donovan's eyes flicked down to his hand, his fist uncurled to reveal the large gash from his claws. Blood flowed profusely from the cut, which he held over the map of the kingdoms etched onto the table, allowing his blood to drip down onto Whitehaven. "One month. Any longer than that, and your heads will be used as the flags as we take Whitehaven. Do I make myself clear?"
The tension in the room eased, each general and captain releasing a breath, cherishing the air they were allowed to breathe. "Thank you for your generosity, your Majesty," the young tiger bowed low.
Donovan arched a brow, lazily lifting his eyes from the dripping blood to the undecorated lieutenant. "My generosity? Is that how you see it? What is your name, child."
He swallowed past the knot in his throat, "Baek, sir. I'm Lieutenant Baek Yun of the Ranger team."
He looked back at his hand, the blood no longer flowing, "Yun, you come from a powerful clan of shifters, purebred tigers. Your great grandmother was my grandfather's head general during the second shifter war, both of your grandparents sat at this table with my father, and your father sat with my brother, defended him until his last breath against the Roanoke." He kept his voice low and steady, the timber of his growl marking his every word, "It would be a shame if you were the last one to serve the Royal family, wouldn't it?"
The tiger's eyes widened, "I, sir, I apologize if I offended you-"
"A word of advice, young cub. Do not speak of the mercy your King shows you, and never confuse it for generosity. The reason you stand here is because I allow it. I am King, I am your Alpha, I am the reason you still have breath in your lungs. Generosity isn't the term I would use for what I just did. That goes for the rest of you, you wanted a month, I gave it to you. Stop wasting your precious time by just sitting here like useless pups. Go!" He snarled, watching as each elder gritted their teeth at the command. They all rose and bowed as one, their brilliant eyes conveying the fear each held for the mad king.
Donovan kept his steely gaze locked on them until the last one shut the door, his hands curled into fists again, shaking as he restrained his wolf from springing forward. He let out a shaky breath, sweat dripping from his brow, his vision flitting from the red tint of his wolf to the regular dull colors of his day to day life.
You're weak. Pathetic. Your brother would never have let his wolf claim the better of him. The mirage of his father stood before him, blood stained lips curled into a sneer.
Donovan shut his eyes, digging his claws into his palms and focusing on the pain radiating from them. You don't exist. You died years ago.
You would know. You were the one that killed me. A coward son that killed his own father in the quiet of the night with poison. You couldn't even over throw me like a true usurper. His father's voice rang in his ears.
"Go away." Donovan whispered, hunching over the table and smacking his forehead against the wood.
I heard you even covered up your brother's death. Claimed that he was ambushed and killed by feral shifters. And now you have his daughter after your head. What are you going to do, coward? Are you going to run from this fight too? Are you going to continue to slaughter your family under the shadow of envy. Or are you finally going to speak your mind and show the world who you really are: a sorry excuse of an heir.
"Go away!" Donovan roared, snapping the edge of the table off with his hands. His eyes flew open, rounding on the presence he felt standing behind him, grabbing and twisting the first limb he could find. Fear's heavy scent cut through his haze, bringing him back to his reality.
His wife stood before him, a tear rolled down her cheek as she tried to choke back her whimpers and whines. "Please let go." She whispered, clearly terrified to set off the alpha again.
Donovan loosened his hand, his print was left marked on her skin, pin pricks of where his claws had curled in dripped slowly. "Elinora..."
She rubbed her arm, the bruise slowly fading, "It's getting worse...isn't it...controlling him?"
He straightened his shoulders, fixated his gaze on hers, "Nothing I can't handle. Do not mention that in public again, we are at war, and people need to rely on their King. Not think that he can't even handle his own shift."
She barked a laugh, "The people are afraid of you, Donovan. You murdered everyone in that arena, you shut our borders, you're holding people hostage, King's Law is in effect...what is this all for, what are you playing at?"
He faced the war table again, studying the markers that were left on the map, "Power. Unity. My brother always wanted to unite the Kingdoms under one crown...he was just too weak to do it, he married, and had a child. He lost his way."
"Then why do you need me?" Her voice cracked, forcing him to tear his eyes away from the map and study her.
He took in her full appearance, noticing how much she had changed since the start of this whole ordeal. The sleepless nights they shared appeared under her eyes, exhaustion marred her once attractive features. Features that were now rounder, fuller, softer due to the pup she carried in her womb. Her heart had softened with her features, making her quieter, pliant, and more obedient than she had ever been. The swell of her belly was hidden under the looser fitting clothing she now wore, as apposed to the form fitting dresses she favored. Her scent had changed; the sharp spice of cinnamon was dulled to a comforting warmth, mixed with the ever forming scent of their child. He cupped her cheek, leaning close to her, breathing in the intoxicating air around her, "Because of my son that you carry."
She closed her eyes, trying to stop the tears from escaping, "Did you ever care for me?"
He took another breath of her scent and pulled her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her, "I cared enough to make you my Queen and allow you to carry my heir. You are the first wife in ten years to give me what I have always wanted. You are the first one whom I care the most for, my darling Elinora." He pressed a kiss to her temple and leaned close to her ear, "But do not take my generosity for granted, should you forget your place or attempt to harm my son in any way...I will tear you limb from limb once my son is breathing."
He tightened his arms around her, concentrating on hearing the fluttering echo beneath Elinora's heart. He rumbled at the sound and dropped down to his knees, resting his forehead against her belly. "You will have the entire continent under your rule, my son. You will be the apex predator, and no one will stop us."
He looked up at his wife, locking his red eyes on her amber ones as he rose to his feet. He cupped her chin, tilting it to the side and scented her neck, skimming his nose against her skin. Taking one last deep breath, he pulled away from her and turned back to the map. "Go, you need to eat and rest so that he can grow stronger."
"Will you join me, my King?" Her voice barely above a whisper.
He looked over his shoulder, "I have much more planning to do. She wants a war, and my generals are useless. Go, I'll join you in bed tonight." He turned his attention back to the task at hand, scribbling on the notepad he pulled from one of the drawers.
He heard her footsteps approach, felt her arms wrap around his waist, and was overwhelmed by the pheromones enveloping his every cell. A growl vibrated his chest, "You dare to tempt your King?"
Elinora took a step back, ducking her head down, "If it's the only way I can capture your attention, then yes."
He chuckled, his wolf side jumping at the chance to claim their mate once more. "I can think of other ways you can capture my attention, my dear Elinora." His chest vibrated with a growl as he scooped her into his arms, being careful to not put pressure on her belly. "Your Alpha will show you, satisfy you, and tame his hunger so that he may plan this war with a clear mind."
Siberia
She sat in the war room with the generals from Whitehaven and the Icecaps, going over training plans they would be implementing and attack strategies that would secure their victory. Askars and shifters arrived each hour for the past three days since she declared her claim and threatened Donovan. Each one willing and ready to help her reclaim her throne and end the tyranny of the mad king. Rhazo stood next to her, brow furrowed as he studied the map the last scout had brought marking where Donovan's forces were. She leaned forward, just as puzzled by what the map showed; the teams of scouts he had placed by the border of what used to be Tacoma were gone.
"What is he playing at?" She whispered, glancing up to the frustrated prince.
He sighed, "My guess is he's not the one calling them back. His generals must have convinced him to give them time to regroup and rest. Taking Tacoma must not have been easy. His forces were depleted when the Knights attacked to extract us, and even more so when he purged the council and the royal hostages, even with Greenland's army...I imagine this must have taken a heavy toll on them."
Screams rang through the room, startling every shifter to their feet. Every soldier ran out the door, weapons drawn, ready to face the source of the screams. Siberia stood, attempting to follow the others out the door before she was stopped by Rhazo, the look in his eyes pleading for her to stay behind.
She pushed past him, her two shadows following hot on her heels with Rhazo quickly catching up. A crowd had gathered down the hall near the main entrance of the palace. Her two shadows moved forward and parted the crowd for the royal couple.
General Dorin glanced back at them, his face somber, "Donovan answered your threat, Your Majesty."
He moved aside, gesturing to the bodies laying at the entrance. The first body was clothed in the colors of Whitehaven; Rhazo's doppleganger. What she assumed was his head was wrapped in a bloodied burlap sack and rested on the shifter's chest. Next to him was a decayed and withered body that reeked of dark magic, a familiar crest etched the chest of the suit he wore. A shroud with the colors of Malmore, hiding the identity, covered the third body. She kneeled down onto the ground, reaching for the note pinned onto the clothing of the mummified corpse.
My darling niece, if it's my crown you want, you must do more than just lightly threaten me behind the walls of that ice palace. Fight me like a grown wolf, coward.
She handed the note to Rhazo, who was crouched beside her, "He's mocking me."
Rhazo read the note and crumpled it in his hand, "He's trying to scare us, bait us into attacking early when we aren't prepared to end us without having a full scale war which he isn't prepared for either. These bodies are just a red herring."
"Out of my way! Move!" August's voice travelled through the crowd as he shoved himself to the front, finally appearing across from her. His anger dropped when his eyes found the withered body of his cousin.
She reached forward and pulled the shroud off the last body, the crowd around her gasping. It was an older woman, eyes closed, hands clasped over her chest and dressed in a burial gown meant for Royals. Her brow furrowed, the woman before her looking vaguely familiar but unable to place a name to the face.
Hysterical laughter came from August, forcing Siberia to tear her eyes away from the dead royal over to the spark. "The Queen Mother is dead. He finally killed his mother."
She rose to her feet, "Have the Sisters move them to warrior ward, they deserve to be buried with dignity. We need to hold a conference with the King, immediately." She directed her attention to August, "You clearly know more of him than I do, I need to know everything August, I can't walk into this blind."
The crowd suddenly began to part, revealing a furious red eyed Cilona, storming her way towards the center. She glanced down at the bodies before continuing her path, stopping only when she stood toe to toe with Siberia. A loud crack echoed through the hall, Siberia's cheek stung where the queen left a red print from the force of her slap.
A snarl ripped through Rhazo, immediately stepping forward and placing himself between the two females. "Are you insane? You are completely out of line!" His chest continued to rumble with growls, his own eyes taking on a red hue as he glared down at his mother.
She flicked her eyes up to him, "Out of line? I'm merely reminding this one of her place. She isn't a princess, and she most certainly isn't a queen. So who is she to be planning and making demands of my kingdom when we have already offered her salvation? And this?" She pointed to the bodies, "Riling up Donovan to the point where he is now officially on my doorstep? I knew doing this was going to be risky, but now I have to draw the line. This is too much. Whitehaven will no longer be supporting her claim."
Siberia's eyes blazed, placing a hand on Rhazo's shoulder, she moved around him to face the queen, "Cilona, you were the one to push that contract, you were the one that offered to assist me with my claim in the first place. Now you tuck your tail like a coward because of one tiny message from Donovan?"
Cilona's lip curled into a snarl, her extended canines catching in the light of the sun, "You dare call me a coward?" She drew her hand back to strike again, her hand being easily caught by the askar princess.
"Do not attempt to insinuate that I am the coward in this situation, Cilona. I have not once seen you in that war room, I have not once heard from you regarding the Tacoma refugees, and I have not once asked for your help. I will regain my throne with or without Whitehaven's help." She released the queen's arm, letting it slide from her fingers.
Cilona rubbed at the bruise Siberia left behind, anger searing through her eyes. "Then do it without my kingdom's assistance, and without my son's hand. I expect you to be gone from my lands by sunrise, or I will hand you over to Donovan myself."
Siberia leaned forward, keeping her gaze steady on the woman in front of her, "Gladly." She could see the rage build in Cilona's eyes when she didn't do what the Queen expected her to do; drop down to her knees and beg for her protection. Siberia was raised a fighter, and it was being made very clear that the people around her had forgotten who she really was.
Her jaw tightened, "Fine. Rhazo, come. We'll find you a better suitor, one who is an actual queen, and obedient at that."
Rhazo barked out a laugh, "No. Where she goes, I go. I gave her my word and I am not going back on it."
Cilona's eyes flared a bright red, "If you leave, you will be abdicating your crown. You will no longer be Crown Prince and you will turn your back on your clan."
He pulled his circlet off, bouncing it in his palm as he stepped next to Siberia, towering over the angered Queen. "I was born of Coniall blood, I am part of the Coniall clan, where we honor our oaths. I have never, nor will I ever be, part of the Faolin clan." His eyes flicked up to his mother's as he chucked the circlet to her feet, "Take it then. A crown means nothing when you don't have the support of the people behind it. Who will they really follow, Cilona? A son of Coniall, or an outsider of Faolin."
"They will follow whoever I make them follow. You are nothing without this crown, Rhazo. I own this crown, I own this Kingdom, I own your father, they all know who the true ruler is in this castle. And I can guarantee that they will swear their loyalties to a crown that can offer more than what you and that little askar can muster up." Cilona's words acted like daggers that she threw on a whim, hoping that one would land a critical hit.
"Cilona Faolin! Enough is enough!" A roar vibrated the hallway, the command behind it sending everyone down to kneel before the King.
The three royals remained standing, watching as Domhall the Strong marched down the hallway with a fury in his eyes that made Cilona's look like a simple tantrum. He growled at the two cubs to move, before grabbing his wife by the throat and slamming her against the wall. "I have let you go on for far too long. How dare you step out of line and declare things in the name of the Kingdom without consulting your King first."
Cilona laughed, digging her claws into his forearm, "I own you, Domhall. What I say goes."
He snarled, tightening his grip on her jaw, "You own nothing, Cilona. Not even the clothes on your back. You claim that your money has been funding the Crown, when in actuality, your money ran dry years ago. This Crown has been sustained by funds left behind in Marcus' name, funds that were to be used to protect his daughter. The rest has been funded from our Kingdom in the name of Prince Rhazo, the next King of Whitehaven. I let you continue with your little delusion because it was easier than listen to your whining and complaining for the rest of my reign."
Cilona's eyes widened, fear emitting from her very soul. "You lie."
Domhall laughed, releasing her from his hold, "Do I?"
The Queen crumpled before their eyes, sliding down the wall as she starred at her husband in shock.
Domhall turned to the crowd, "I am here by passing on my reign to Prince Rhazo. My time as King has long since been nearing its end, what better time than now as he and his intended lead us to victory with this war. Effective immediately, Prince Rhazo shall hold all duties and responsibilities as King, including all rights to his siblings pairings. The Queen Regent shall no longer have any authority, unless noted by Prince Rhazo or his intended Princess Siberia. The coronation and mating shall happen tonight. In this critical time, we must move quickly. Anyone against this, speak now or forever hold your peace."
The crown remained silent, the tension in the air lifted as he nodded, "Those in agreement?"
Each general that was present stood and sliced their palm, lifting their bleeding hand to the King as a sign of agreement.
Domhall placed a hand on Rhazo's shoulder, "Long live King Rhazo."