Chapter 163
Aragon POV.
I sat in Ryker’s living room, my phone pressed to my ear as I waited for the head of the council to answer. The plush velvet of the armchair beneath me felt oddly comforting, a stark contrast to the turmoil churning within me. I had decided to reach out to him, to tell him about what had happened and to ask for his help.
The council was a group of powerful shifters who governed our community. They were responsible for making laws, keeping the peace, and ensuring the safety of our kind. They were the gatekeepers of our world, the ones who stood between us and the dangers that lurked in the shadows. And I knew that they were the only ones who could help us now.
The council chamber, with its towering oak doors and stained–glass windows depicting ancient legends of our people, had always held a sense of awe and reverence for me. But now, as I waited for the chairman to answer, the image of that imposing space felt almost mocking, a stark reminder of the helplessness I felt.
As I waited, I couldn’t help but think about everything that had happened. The attacks, the fighting, the constant looking over our shoulders, the fear that gnawed at the edges of our lives. It was exhausting, both physically and mentally. We were all on edge, our senses heightened, our instincts screaming at us to be vigilant, to be ready for the next strike.
But I knew that we couldn’t give up. We had to keep fighting, no matter what. Our lives, our families, our very existence depended on it. We were a proud people, strong and resilient, and we wouldn’t be cowed by fear.
“Hello?” a deep voice said, answering the phone. The voice was familiar, a gravelly baritone that resonated with authority and wisdom.
“Chairman Thompson,” I said. “I need to speak with you. It’s urgent.”
“Aragon, what’s going on?” the chairman asked. The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken worries. I knew he sensed the gravity of the situation, even before I spoke a word.
“Victor and his men have been attacking us,” I said, getting straight to the point. “They’re trying to take over our territory, and we’re fighting back. But we need help. We can’t do this alone.”
The weight of my words hung in the air, heavy with the urgency of our plight. The silence that followed felt like an eternity, as I waited for Chairman Thompson to process the gravity of the situation.
“I see,” the chairman said. “How many men do you have?”
“We have a small group,” I replied, my heart racing as I laid out the stark truth. “About half a dozen of us. But we’re outnumbered. Victor has dozens of men at his disposal, and they’re all well–trained and well–armed. We’re doing everything we can to hold them off, but it’s getting harder by the
day.”
As I spoke, I could almost see the faces of my comrades flash before my eyes–tired but determined, each one of them willing to fight for our home, for our lives. The thought of losing them to Victor’s ruthless ambition was unbearable.
“I understand,” the chairman said. I could sense the tension beneath his calm exterior. “But you know that the council can’t just intervene without following protocol. We have to go through the proper channels.”
Frustration bubbled up within me, but I fought to keep my voice steady. “I understand that,” I said, trying to keep my frustration in check. “But please, Chairman Thompson, you have to understand the urgency of the situation. We’re not just talking about a few skirmishes here and there. We’re talking about a full–scale war. Victor is not going to stop until he’s taken over our territory, and we’re all dead.”
I could hear the rustling of papers on the other end of the line, a reminder of the bureaucracy that often felt like shackles binding us. “I need to consider the implications of this,” he replied, his tone softer now, but still firm. “If we act without due process, it could set a dangerous precedent.” “With all due respect,” I pressed on, “we don’t have the luxury of time. Every day Victor grows bolder, every night we brace ourselves for an attack. We can’t wait for meetings and discussions while our people are being hunted down. We need action.”
There was a pause, and I could almost hear the wheels turning in his mind. “What do you propose?” he finally asked.
“Gather a few council members–those who understand the stakes,” I suggested, my heart pounding with hope. “We need a show of strength, a united front. If we can demonstrate that the council stands with us, it might deter Victor from pushing further. If we wait, I fear what will happen
next.”
“Very well,” Chairman Thompson replied. “I will convene an emergency meeting. But you must prepare your men for the worst. This won’t be
easy.”
“Thank you,” I breathed, relief washing over me. “We’ll be ready. We have to be.”
I had to switch the call to video so he could see the urgency in what I was saying.
“I see,” the chairman said, his voice thoughtful as he leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled before him. The flickering candlelight cast shadows across his weathered face, highlighting the deep lines etched by years of responsibility.
And you’re asking for the council’s help in defeating Victor and his men?” he asked again like he needed to be sure of what I was asking him for.
“Yes,” I said. “We need more warriors, more men who can help us fight back against Victor. We can’t do it alone.” The weight of my words hung in the air, a palpable tension that seemed to thrum between us.
“I understand,” the chairman said, his brow furrowing slightly as he considered my request. “But I have to warn you, Aragon, the council is not always
