NOVPUBRamsey
I stood with my warriors at the edge of the forest, watching as the weapon master's trucks arrived. This moment had been months in the making. Ever since the first Feral attacks, I'd been working with our best craftsmen to develop weapons that could effectively combat these threats.
"Right on time," I said as Master Gregor approached, carrying a large metal case.
"Everything you requested, Alpha," he reported, opening the case to reveal rows of specialized ammunition. "Silver nitrate bullets for the rifles and pistols. The tips are hollow-point—they'll expand on impact for maximum damage."
Lenny whistled lowly. "These will tear through a Feral like paper."
"That's the idea," I replied grimly.
Gregor's apprentices unloaded more cases from the trucks. "We've also brought the grenades and explosives," he explained. "The grenades contain a mixture of silver powder and wolfsbane extract. They'll create a cloud that will weaken any were-creature caught in the blast radius."
"And the explosives?" I asked. 𝔫𝖔𝔳𝖕𝖚𝔟.𝔠𝔬𝖒
"Mountain ash shrapnel packed with consecrated iron," Gregor answered. "Effective against panthers and foxes alike."
I nodded, satisfied. Initially, these weapons had been developed for the war against the Dark One and his Ferals, but Nathan's betrayal had accelerated our timeline. Tonight, we would use one-third of our arsenal, hopeful that it would be enough to eliminate Nathan and his goons without depleting our reserves.
"Distribute them according to the plan," I ordered. "Rifles to the marksmen, grenades to the forward units, explosives to the perimeter teams."
As my warriors armed themselves, I checked in with the other group leaders. Lenny's eastern force was already moving through the mining tunnels. Freya's Sigma fighters had begun their silent approach through the marshlands.
"Remember," I told my unit as we boarded our vehicles, "stealth is crucial until all groups are in position. Maintain radio silence except for the coordinated attack signal."
Our vehicles had been modified for this mission—muffled engines and tires specially designed to navigate rough terrain without making noise. We moved like shadows through the forest, approaching Nathan's camp from the north.
When we reached our designated position, I signalled for the vehicles to stop. Through my binoculars, I surveyed Nathan's camp. Fires burned brightly, and the sounds of laughter and conversation drifted toward us. Nathan's forces seemed relaxed, confident—they weren't expecting an attack.
I activated my radio, keeping my voice low. "Lycan Leader to Eastern Force. Status?"
"Eastern Force in position," Lenny's voice crackled through the speaker, "Supply lines in sight. Ready to engage."
"Lycan Leader to Sigma Force. Status?"
"Sigma Force ready," Freya reported. "Western flank secured. Their guard rotation is sloppy—only four sentries for the entire perimeter."
"Confirmed," I responded. "All units prepare to attack on my mark. Three..."
I signalled my warriors to ready their weapons.
"Two..."
Around me, muscles tensed as my warriors prepared to spring.
"One..."
I drew my own weapon—a custom-made automatic loaded with silver bullets.
"Mark."
We moved silently through the trees, approaching the northern edge of the camp. The first wave of my warriors spread out, taking strategic positions around the perimeter. Snipers climbed into trees, aiming at the few visible guards. Most of them didn't have their weapons with them.
From the east and west, I heard the faint sounds of the beginning of combat—Lenny and Freya's forces were engaging Nathan's warriors. Perfect. The distraction would draw attention away from our approach.
"Move in," I ordered softly.
We entered the camp like ghosts, taking down sentries with silent efficiency. The sounds of celebration masked our movements—music blared from speakers, and the warriors shouted in drunken merriment. These weren't disciplined soldiers; they were revellers anticipating an easy victory.
Then all hell broke loose.
The first explosion from Lenny's team lit up the eastern sky, followed immediately by battle cries from Freya's Sigma fighters in the west. Chaos erupted as Nathan's warriors scrambled to respond to threats from multiple directions.
"Now!" I shouted, abandoning stealth.
My warriors moved forward with their weapons. Silver bullets cut through the night, finding their targets with deadly accuracy. Nathan's men fell in droves, caught completely unprepared for our coordinated assault.
I fought my way through the camp, searching for any sign of Nathan. Around me, the battle raged in our favour. Our surprise attack was working—Nathan's forces were disorganized, unable to mount an effective defence against our three-pronged assault.
"Alpha!" Killian called from nearby. "Eastern section secured. Lenny reports the supply lines have been destroyed."
"Western flank is ours," another warrior reported. "Freya says Nathan's reinforcements are cut off."
Victory seemed within our grasp. We had done the impossible—outmanoeuvred and overwhelmed a numerically superior force.
Then I noticed something strange. Among the fallen and fighting, I saw no panthers. No Ferals. Nathan's elite forces—his most dangerous weapons—were nowhere to be seen.
A cold feeling settled in my gut. Something was wrong.
"Has anyone seen Nathan?" I demanded over the radio.
There was silence.
"Continue the advance," I ordered my unit. "I'm going to find Nathan."
I moved deeper into the camp, toward a large tent that likely served as Nathan's command centre. The fighting had thinned here—too easily, I realized with growing unease.
Just as I approached the tent, a bone-chilling howl split the air, followed by snarls that raised the hair on my neck. I froze, recognizing the unmistakable sound of Ferals—dozens of them—and the deeper, guttural growls of panthers.
"It's a trap," I whispered, then shouted into my radio: "All units, fall back! Defensive positions! The Ferals are coming!"
Too late. From the surrounding forest, dark shapes emerged—Ferals in their most monstrous form, larger and more vicious than any I'd seen before. Their eyes shone red, a clear indication that they were still feral. Behind them came the panthers, sleek black shadows with glowing amber eyes.
Nathan had hidden his true warriors, letting us believe we were winning while his elite killers waited to ambush us.
"Grenade teams!" I ordered. "Create a perimeter! Marksmen, target the panthers first!"
My warriors responded instantly, but I could see the fear in their eyes. We were caught in the open, surrounded by enemies like the Ferals, specifically designed to tear werewolves apart. I knew they would encounter difficulties since we were Lycans, but with the Panthers…we would have a lot of dead Lycans if they prevailed.
A familiar laugh made me turn. Nathan stood at the entrance of the command tent, watching the chaos with triumph in his eyes.
"Did you really think I wouldn't anticipate your attack, Ramsey?" he called. "I know how you think. I've always known."
I raised my weapon, aiming for his heart.
"You won't get a second shot," Nathan warned. "And your people need you alive more than they need me dead."
He was right. Around us, the battle had shifted dramatically. My warriors were fighting desperately against the Ferals and panthers; their silver weapons were effective, but they were slowly being overwhelmed. Before long, Nathan's warriors would definitely have the upper hand.
"The difference between us," Nathan continued, "is that I'm willing to sacrifice pawns. You care too much about every single soul."
"That's not weakness," I growled. "It's what makes us worth fighting for."
Nathan shrugged. "A philosophical difference we'll never resolve anything, Ramsey. No wonder your people think you're weak. In a war, people die… death is a thing, so I won't mind sacrificing a few of my men if it would kill you. Where's your Moonsinger, by the way? I expected her to be at your side."
The fact that he didn't know where Lyla was gave me a small measure of satisfaction. At least that part of our plan remained secure.
"Fighting one of your other fronts," I lied smoothly.
Nathan's eyes narrowed, clearly not believing me. "No matter. I'll find her soon enough."
An explosion rocked the eastern side of the camp—Lenny deploying the heavy explosives as a desperate measure against the Ferals. It bought us precious seconds.
"All units, rally to me!" I commanded over the radio. "Retreat pattern Delta!"
Delta was our emergency extraction plan—a fighting withdrawal designed to minimize casualties while breaking contact with a superior force.
"You're not going anywhere," Nathan said calmly, gesturing to someone behind me.
I spun to find myself facing three panthers, their eyes were filled with hatred as they stared at me.
"I told you that you'd die tonight, Ramsey," Nathan said. "But first, you'll watch your world fall and me buried in the depths of your mate. Then I will kill you slowly."
I tightened my grip on my weapon as my mind raced through options. The panthers were too close for me to shoot all three before at least one reached me. My warriors were engaged elsewhere, fighting for their lives.
But I wasn't finished yet. Not by a long shot.
"You've forgotten something, Nathan," I said, slowly reaching into my pocket with my free hand.
"And what's that?" he asked, amused.
"I learned from our last encounter."
I pulled out a small, silver device—one of Gregor's special creations, designed specifically for close-quarters fighting against Were-creatures. Before Nathan could react, I thumbed the activation switch and tossed it at the feet of the approaching panthers.
The device exploded in a blinding flash of light and a high-pitched sound wave that sent the panthers reeling, disoriented and in pain.
I didn't waste the opportunity. I fired three precise shots, dropping each panther where they stood.
Nathan's amused expression vanished, replaced by cold fury. "Kill him!" he shouted to someone beyond my vision.
