Chapter 10:The iron mandate
1185 Words
The air in the High Council Chamber of the Frost Fortress was so cold it seemed to crystallize the very breath of the men gathered around the great obsidian table. On one side sat the Blood Wolf elders, led by Alpha Silas, looking weary and travel-worn but still radiating a sharp, desperate aggression. On the other sat the Snow Pack lords, their furs trimmed in silver, their expressions as unyielding as the permafrost outside.
The doors groaned open.
Luna entered, not in a gown, but in her reinforced training leathers, her dual short-blades strapped to her thighs. Harland walked a half-step behind her—a subtle but powerful signal to every man in the room that he was her support, not her master.
A heavy silence fell. Silas’s eyes narrowed, his gaze darting from the weapons on his daughter’s hips to the defiant set of her jaw.
"Luna," Silas said, his voice echoing with the authority of an Alpha. "This is a closed session for commanders and lords. Go back to your quarters. We are discussing the fate of the North."
Luna didn't move. She stepped up to the table, leaning her palms against the cold stone. "Then I am exactly where I belong, Father. Because I am the only person in this room who has stood on the Western front in the last six months. I know the Red Moon’s rhythm. I know how they move when the sun is low and how they use the alchemist’s fire you’re so afraid of."
One of the Snow Pack elders scoffed. "We have high-ranking scouts for that, Princess."
"Your scouts haven't bled for that dirt," Luna countered, her voice dropping to a dangerous register. "I have. And while you’ve been arguing over who leads the vanguard, the Red Moon has likely already realized their spy is dead. They aren't waiting for an invitation. They’re coming for the Glacial Pass."
Harland stepped forward, placing a hand on the table next to hers. "She speaks with my authority," he announced, his icy blue eyes sweeping the room. "And she speaks with the truth. My father’s dungeons are empty because the spy gave us everything—and the Red Moon knows it. We don't have days. We have hours."
Silas stood, his chair scraping harshly against the floor. "You would let a girl dictate the strategy of two ancient packs?"
"I would let a warrior save us from a slaughter," Harland corrected.
Luna looked directly at her father, seeing the flicker of the man who used to praise her for her speed when she was a child, buried deep beneath the cold mask of a desperate Alpha. "The West is burning, Dad. If you don't let me show these lords how to trap Varick in the ice, there won't be a Blood Wolf pack left for me to inherit."
The room held its breath. Silas looked at the map, then at the daughter he had tried to sell away, and finally at the Prince who had given her the voice he had tried to take.
The obsidian table was cluttered with defensive markers, but Luna looked at them as if they were pebbles in a child’s game.
"This won't work," she said. Her voice didn't just break the silence; it shattered it. She stepped forward, her boots echoing like hammer strikes, and swept the defensive tokens off the map with a single, dismissive motion.
"Luna!" Silas growled, his Alpha aura flaring until the shadows in the corners of the room seemed to writhe. "We are discussing the fortification of the Glacial Pass. This is the only way to protect the fortress."
"You are discussing how to die behind a wall," Luna countered, leaning over the table until she was nose-to-nose with her father. Her eyes, usually a calm amber, were now burning with a predatory light. "Varick isn't coming to siege you. He’s coming to burn you. You want to bottle our men up in a gorge? You’re just pre-heating the oven for his alchemist’s fire."
The Snow Pack lords shifted uncomfortably, their silver-lined furs rustling. Silas opened his mouth to retort, but Luna drove her thumb into the map at a location deep behind the Red Moon lines: The Iron Ridge.
"This is where the war ends," she declared. "The Iron Ridge is their primary armory. It’s where they store the wagons of fire and the heavy steel they looted from our Western forges. They think we’re cowering here, waiting for the blow to fall. They are unaware that we have the strength to strike backChapter 9: The Iron Mandate
The obsidian table was cluttered with defensive markers, but Luna looked at them as if they were pebbles in a child’s game.
"This won't work," she said. Her voice didn't just break the silence; it shattered it. She stepped forward, her boots echoing like hammer strikes, and swept the defensive tokens off the map with a single, dismissive motion.
"Luna!" Silas growled, his Alpha aura flaring until the shadows in the corners of the room seemed to writhe. "We are discussing the fortification of the Glacial Pass. This is the only way to protect the fortress."
"You are discussing how to die behind a wall," Luna countered, leaning over the table until she was nose-to-nose with her father. Her eyes, usually a calm amber, were now burning with a predatory light. "Varick isn't coming to siege you. He’s coming to burn you. You want to bottle our men up in a gorge? You’re just pre-heating the oven for his alchemist’s fire."
The Snow Pack lords shifted uncomfortably, their silver-lined furs rustling. Silas opened his mouth to retort, but Luna drove her thumb into the map at a location deep behind the Red Moon lines: The Iron Ridge.
"This is where the war ends," she declared. "The Iron Ridge is their primary armory. It’s where they store the wagons of fire and the heavy steel they looted from our Western forges. They think we’re cowering here, waiting for the blow to fall. They are unaware that we have the strength to strike back."
She looked at the Snow Pack commanders, Kaelen and Vane. "We don't wait. We go around the pass tonight. We take the Iron Ridge while their vanguard is still miles away. We burn their supplies. Without those weapons, the Red Moon is just a pack of starving dogs."
"A ghost raid?" Commander Vane whispered, his eyes widening with realization. "Two targets in one night? The Ridge first, then the Capital?"
"Exactly," Luna said.
Silas let out a harsh, jagged laugh. "With what weapons, Luna? The Snow Pack’s blades are shattering against the Red Moon's reinforced plate. Our own forges in the West are ash. We don't have the gear for a deep-strike mission of this scale."
Luna straightened her spine, turning her gaze fully on her father. This was the moment she had been waiting for.
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