October 9th, xxxx
CAMUEL IS BITCHING AGAIN but Alpha North listens with half an ear, most of his attention on the pile of work in front of him, expelling the ambassador's stern lecture out of him, concentrating instead on the topic of the bitching.
Like Nuka, there are five Blue Sun omegas that have called this place their home but unlike Nuka are kept confined in the south with their not so welcoming counterparts, supervised by two soldiers-in-training when they go to perform their given tasks.
With some strong opposition from Camuel and (glowing) recommendations from Anduan and Kamil, he decided to test their loyalty by assigning them to patrol duty.
He knows Camuel wouldn't be happy but he'd hoped his brother would appreciate the extra hands—and eyes—as they are spread thin as it is. Most of their guards secure the western area protecting their livestock, their livelihood that the Pack have to rely on alarms, security cameras and traps for the other areas.
Unfortunately, their land is so vast there isn't enough patrols. Having only two guard towers—one in the south, the other near the central—they have to be extra alert.
He hates how vulnerable their security is but that's no excuse to have a lax security—nor would he reject extra help. Why not turn crisis into opportunity.
Camuel sits halfway on his desk gesticulating as expressive as he can, he reminds Precious of a windmill that a rapt attentive Nuka off to the side have had to dodge twice hugging a folder to his chest.
Glances at Kamil leaning on the wall where the brown leather sofa rests, arms loosely folded, an amused smile on his face but his attention has that kind of face that storied he's listening only because there's nothing else to do.
Between the two of them, Camuel takes his soldier life very seriously, declaring his dedication by always decking snug fitted camos—trousers, jacket and cap—the ensemble complete with military boots taken off at the doorstep while Kamil in contrast wears any loose fitting clothes he can shrug on.
"All through last night, I scouted their new watch tower," unexpectedly Camuel announced and Precious jerks his head up at the news.
"You did what? You know better than to tresspass—"
"It's okay, I wasn't spotted," he waves a hand and the flippancy annoyed him.
"What did you think would've happened if you'd been seen? How many times do I have to tell you that we don't aggravate them or their mad Alpha. We're already threading a thin line as it is—"
"Do you want to know what I found out or do you want to keep lecturing me?" he interrupts in a clipped tone.
He stops, eyeing him down. In gritted teeth, gestures for him to continue.
"It's empty. There's no one guarding it, it just sits there gathering dust. Once, in the wee hours of the morning someone climbs up, paces for about ten minutes and leaves.
"I think it was just erected to intimidate us. They can't see anything beyond the Winter Forest, trust me. I went up there and checked myself."
"Wow, this revelation keeps getting better. Are you mad, Cam? Seriously. High up, anyone could've seen you."
His brother stands and turns around, face hardened like stone. "But nobody did. No one patrols that area. It's dead silent. They don't even have the equipment to magnify their vision. Like I said, it's there for intimidation, nothing else."
"The intimidation works. It's working," Kamil speaks up for the first time.
"We're surrounded on all sides by their watch towers. East, south, west and now north. Empty or not, they've closed us in. The Winter Forest is our weakest spot. A liability."
YOU ARE READING
Making The Alpha Submit (BL)
Werewolf"I can't do that," he says softly, staring absentmindedly in the whiskey glass, "I'm the Alpha." "So?" "So, I'm not supposed to be this.... submissive," he spits, eyebrow creasing as if the whiskey glass is a rotten tomato. "Come here." Kamil instru...
