Her Men Of Ruin

Reamer

seems to sense the man’s plight. “If my Alpha wanted you dead,

you would have already been the moment you stepped into our

territory. We do not deal with petty stuff like poison, ambassador.”

Zeedar

still isn’t convinced.

Reamer

rises up, walks to his side, and takes a spoon each from his food.

“See?” he says when he doesn’t die after thirty seconds.

However, Zeedar still stares at the food without interest as Reamer

returns to his seat. “Suspecting us of poison goes against your

treaty for peace, ambassador.”

“A

bowl of water,” Zeedar says to a maid, who leaves and returns with

a bowl of water. “Drink it.”

The

maid drinks the water after looking at the beta for permission. Then

Zeedar takes the bowl from her and washes his cutlery in it before

wiping them on his pants.

Now

there’s nothing stopping him from digging into the food.

Although

amazed by the man’s peculiar attitude, Reamer keeps talking. “My

pack and yours were founded by two blood brothers that were orphans

of an exterminated faraway pack. They were Alphas known for their

compassion and kindness. And they took in as many homeless and rogue

wolves as they could. For a long time, both our packs have excelled,

flourishing with equal strengths to the point they leveled with the

Alpha King. It was only because of these Alphas’ loyalty to the

Alpha King that they did not overthrow him. Even when the Alpha King

suddenly disappeared, the packs fought other packs who tried to

overthrow the Alpha King’s pack. They both remained strong

brothers.”

While

Zeedar busied himself with the food, Reamer studied the man’s

reaction to his words while telling to story.

So

far, no reaction.

He

intends to know the ambassador’s true intent for coming here, and

he must squeeze that out of him.

So

he pushes further. “However, eight years ago, the previous alpha of

my pack, his beta, and a son of Moon’s Wrath’s alpha, whom he had

adopted, suddenly died. Their killer then became the new Alpha of

Tribalan pack, known as Alpha Frail. Moon’s Wrath’s Alpha sought

revenge out of anger. He personally stormed here to kill Alpha Frail

himself. People say that was the first time he acted out of emotions.

And that became his last time on earth, as Alpha Frail killed him and

sent his head back to Moon’s Wrath pack, declaring war on the them.

Moon’s Wrath’s new alpha, Ziason Father, second son of the late

alpha, accepted the challenge. Since then, both packs have been

striking little battles that end in loss on both sides. However, even

though both packs have been affected over the years, they merely

climb down the influence rank by a step. Ambassador, do you think any

part of this story is false?”

Zeedar

shakes his head while still eating.

“Then

why have you suddenly made the decision to end the war?” Reamer

asks, completely relaxing in his chair. “According to logic, we

killed your uncle, your father, your brother, and stole the pack that

belonged to your uncle’s children, yet you still want to make peace

with us. Does it make sense?”

Zeedar

stops eating for a moment to speak. “If there’s anything both my

father and my uncle would despise with all their hearts, it’s

seeing the battle between the packs they struggled to build, or

having any one of them crumble. I just want to fulfill their wish of

making sure both packs strive.” He finishes the last of his food.

Even though the maid had served his milk, he doesn’t drink it. He

wipes his lips instead, then shifts nonchalantly in the chair to

adjust himself. “Since you’re done telling your story, can I

finally see your Alpha? I need to speak with him one on one.”

“Before

coming here, you must have known my Alpha doesn’t speak with just

anybody.”

Zeedar’s

stoic gaze lands on the beta. Sharp. Steady. Surrounded by cold air.

“Can I see him?”

“No.”

Reamer sips his wine again. “But he says I should ask if you know

what the prophesy child is.”

“What

is that?”

“Your

alpha didn’t tell you?”

Zeedar

doesn’t know what the man is talking about, but he refuses to look

lost, so he maintains his bland expression.

The

beta notices Zeedar’s effort and smiles, his thick lips stretching

as tiny wrinkles appear around his narrow, dreamy eyes.

“To

stop the war, your alpha has to give up the wide acre of land that

the previous alpha of my pack gifted your father,” he says. “I

know Ziason Father barely sees reason, but I trust you will try to

convince him. If he’s willing to let the land go, we will settle

our disputes.”

“Was

the land your major grievance for triggering an eight-year-old war?”

Zeedar mumbles.

Reamer

huffs. “Because my Alpha asks to settle with the land doesn’t

mean it was his reason for starting a war. We have our grievances,

but we’re willing to put that aside.”

“If

I may ask, what grievances do your alpha have against my pack?”

Some

moments of uncomfortable silence pass between the two before Reamer

sits up in his chair, setting his champagne glass on the table. “With

time, you will find out. For now, let us think about settling the

war.”

Zeedar

blinks once and forgets to do so for the next thirty seconds. “I

have one last question for you,” he mutters. “If I had not come

here, would you have thought of ending the war?”

Reamer

shrugs. “Probably not.”

“Then

why did you agree to the treaty so quickly?”

“You

said last question before.”

“This

one is last.”

“Well,

as you can see, the war is leading no where. We only keep losing

armies and wealth for the past eight years.” Reamer rises to his

feet and adjusts his fitting black shirt before traipsing to Zeedar,

placing his hands on the backrest of the latter’s chair. “It’s

obvious both packs are in the same level of strategical strength and

manpower. The war could stretch to three more generations and there

still would not be a conqueror.”

Zeedar

stands up too, facing the beta. “I didn’t expect the rumored

powerful Alpha Frail of Tribalan pack to give up so easily.”

“People

may not know this, but my alpha is wise. He knows when to stop.”

The

two exchange a goodbye handshake before Zeedar leaves the hall. As

Reamer returns to his seat, he hears a voice in his head.

[You

skipped the last part that says ‘he also knows when to NOT back

down’]

Reamer

reaches for his glass and gulps down allbthe wine in it, then he

replies the voice owner through a mind link. [Alpha,

why did you make me ask him about the prophecy child?]

[The

witches confirmed that his words were true. He truly doesn’t know

about the prophecy, which means Ziason didn’t tell his brothers

about it. He kept it from them for a reason. Probability one, he’s

trying to protect them. Probability two, he doesn’t trust them. I

prefer to bet on the latter.]

[What

are you planning, Alpha?]

[There

is no plan. For now, I want to see how that single information will

reform Zeedar’s mind. I want to see how much trust the brothers can

afford within themselves, and I want to see how strong their famous

powerful trinity is.]