Fatal Justice

† Chapter Forty-Three †

The cost of war is blood. 

He stood with his brothers, and the brave souls of Aloysius, in the early morning light. He tilted his head back a smidge, gazing into the cloudless sky that allowed golden rays of sunlight to bathe over the land. For what they faced, the weather was stunningly beautiful. Clear, as if it knew the fate that today would bring. He hoped it was a good fate, one met with justice. 

They knew the fate they faced, and they were not afraid. They didn't shy away from the sword, for every good sword was bathed in the blood of their enemies, and swung with the skill of a great warrior. Not even the flashbacks of his loss could deter him now. 

Silence cloaked them with serenity, they knew they were going to war for the better good of the entire werewolf community. They knew that by the lives they lost today, they would build a new era for werewolves, one in which peace and justice would thrive. He had always been a sucker for justice, and what better than to go to war in the very definition of it. 

They took a breath together, two hundred wolves as one, and they exhaled into the brisk air. 

They were calmly waiting for their enemy, hearts thrumming with preparation for battle, souls lightweight in the hope that the blood spilled would be enough to change a cruel world. That people would stand up and fight for what they believed in, fight for justice, and vanquish the evil that plagued the land. He was not a coward, unlike the other packs who refused to join them out of fear, and he was ready. 

Everyone was a prisoner to fear, it was just a question of what they feared. Change was indefinitely something everyone feared, he knew that, and it was the reason why others would cower beneath a wicked Alpha versus gaining a few battle scars and tasting blood in their mouth because they refused to cower. He had spent enough of his life running, cowering, and hiding. 

History was waiting to be made, and destiny was waiting to happen. 

A greater cause, a greater purpose. 

He knew when his brother arrived, it was as if the air was stained with the stench of a black soul, crawling its way from the depths of hell and living in the world because of the advantage of fear. One by one, the wolves of Conquistador appeared at the treeline, creating two sides. Their enemy instantly snarled, gnashing teeth, and attempting to intimidate them, but he wasn't afraid. He never would be. 

He had feared enough demons in his lifetime. Now, he would face them. 

They were outnumbered, as nearly three hundred Conquistador wolves continued to file into the clearing with feral behavior, but he stood in his spot. Just as Reeve, who stood a few spots to his right. She didn't even flinch when Russell made his appearance. Russell stalked through the sea of wolves, kicking some of them out of the way, a sick and twisted expression spread through his grinning face. Simon proudly followed behind Russell. 

He clenched his fists, willing his claws to remain hidden for a moment longer. How badly he wished to hear the tearing of their flesh, feel the last beat of their black hearts, and watch as they lost the privilege to live in this world. His wolf bushed the boundaries of their connection, begging to be free with their feral instinct, for justice to be had by blood. 

"Well, I'll be damned," Russell snarled, those dark eyes focused on Reeve with a twisted fascination, "In the flesh and blood, its our bitch, men! I don't think we've all properly seen her human body. Isn't she stunning?" The Conquistador wolves howled with excitement and the attention settled on Reeve. His own gut twisted at the thought of what she had endured as a captive to her brother, the horrors she had faced, but she still survived, and that was impressive enough to him. 

Reeve still didn't flinch nor glance away from Russell, but stood regally against the cause of every broken piece in her life, and for that he deeply admired her. She had been broken, but she had healed, and unlike him, she was stronger than ever before.  

Alpha Leroy stepped forward, "Alpha Russell, you are responsible for the death of hundreds of innocent lives. You are charged with the highest crime by the council--" 

Russell interrupted Leroy, cackling like a psychopath, "So what's your point boy? The Council can't do shit to me," He knew why, Braxton had paid them off and apparently Russell received that goodwill, "I own this country. How the hell did you get out of that rogue prison anyway?" 

"You own nothing," Alpha Leroy snarled, "You are not worthy to be an Alpha. You might have scared the rest of the country but you don't scare us. We will fight for our freedom." 

And for peace, he added silently. 

"You don't scare us," Russell mocked, and then his eyes flashed black as he sneered, "Do you honestly think you stand a chance against me? Look around you, dumbass, we outnumber you by two to one. You know first hand what I am capable of, do you really want to kill your entire family again just for a little rebellion? Give up your shit and I might let you live." 

Alpha Leroy didn't even flinch, "My family will proudly die fighting. Your reign of blood and terror ends today, no longer will you ravage the land in your greed. Surrender to us." 

Russell rolled his eyes, "You aren't as smart as I thought," He tapped his chin, "I tell you what, I'm willing to make an offer that I believe interests both of us. If you hand over the she-wolf right now, I'll forget your scum, and nobody has to die." 

He scoffed, he knew it was a lie. Russell was manipulative and nothing but a liar, he'd take Reeve and kill everyone anyway, just for fun. But, he had faith in Alpha Leroy, knowing the man was brave enough to make his own choices against a pitiful bribe, so he said nothing and waited. 

"I refuse," Alpha Leroy said, strong and sure. 

"God, you are dumb," Russell snickered, "So be it then, death for you and an empire for me," Russell turned to retreat behind his wolves like a true coward, "Oh, and by the way, I brought some friends, think of it as a goodbye from me to you." 

As if on cue, movement caught the corner of his eye to the right of the clearing, and he watched as a large group of humans appeared while Russell disappeared among his pack members. Cloaked in black, wielding silver weapons, he had no concern for the Hunters. They were human after all and had no place in a werewolf's war. They would flee, he was sure of it. 

He glanced at Fox. His brother gave him a nod. Then, he glanced at General and Amigo, who readied to sprint at his side into the depths of war. Their black fur was raised in deadly hackles down their spines, and he glanced at the rest of his brothers. They were all proud to fight for justice, and so was he. 

And then the war began. 

 ※      ※     ※

So it begins.

God, this is like reliving trauma, as this chapter is overlapping with chapter twenty-one of Her Redeemed Destiny, and I can't even. I have to rewrite everyone's death... help me. Do I have a soul left? No, especially not after what's coming next. 

We're all going to be crying for days.