Chapter 211: Broken Pack
Serafall remained seated behind the desk in her office, reading the latest reports from the legions positioned along the borders. The maps before her were covered with small markings, each representing patrols, observation posts, and routes that had been attacked during the past few months. Natasha occupied the chair on the other side, a closed folder resting on her legs as she waited while the general compared the numbers.
"How are things along the borders?" Serafall asked without raising her eyes.
"Werewolf activity has decreased by approximately eighty percent," Natasha replied. "Patrols have stopped encountering groups crossing the forests, attacks on trade routes have ceased, and three camps under observation were abandoned during the past week."
Serafall turned to the next page.
"Did they take anything?"
"Weapons, provisions, and documents. They burned what they could not transport. The trackers found sealed tunnels and several traps left behind to delay any pursuit."
"So they are not fleeing in disorder."
"No. The withdrawal appears planned."
Serafall closed the report and leaned back in her chair. That reduction in activity was not good news. A disorganized retreat would indicate fear, losses, or lack of leadership. What Natasha described was different. The clans were gathering resources, erasing their tracks, and reorganizing their positions before the Empire could react.
"We are on the verge of war," Serafall said. "It is natural for them to retreat after we discovered what happened in Bramford."
Natasha crossed one leg over the other.
"What I still do not understand is why we are being so passive."
Serafall raised her eyes.
"Passive?"
"So far, they are the ones who crossed our borders, attacked patrols, kidnapped vampires, and maintained a laboratory inside one of our cities. We have only defended our territory and gathered evidence." Natasha placed the folder on the desk. "Now they know they have been discovered, and they are being given time to abandon important positions."
"You believe we should have attacked earlier."
"I believe we could have prevented part of this withdrawal."
Serafall did not answer immediately. She looked at the map attached to the wall behind Natasha. There were several unidentified points, places where scouts had found recent signs of werewolf presence but no complete facility. Attacking too soon would have destroyed small camps and warned those responsible before Intelligence gathered enough information to locate the larger structure.
"We finished collecting the data yesterday," Serafall admitted.
Natasha remained silent, waiting for the rest.
"Intelligence confirmed the main routes used to transport prisoners, blood, and equipment. We also identified which clans supplied warriors to Bramford and which human families facilitated passage through neutral cities."
"How many targets?"
"Seventeen confirmed. Another nine are still under observation."
Natasha opened the folder again.
"And the facilities?"
"Four warehouses, three military posts, two clan fortresses, and at least one laboratory similar to the one in Bramford."
"Where?"
"Neutral territory, beneath a city called Orthea."
Natasha raised her eyebrows slightly.
"How did they discover it?"
"One of the records recovered by Alexa contained transport numbers that seemed random. Intelligence compared them with commercial movements and found a pattern." Serafall placed her hand over the report. "They are moving the experiments there."
"Then we still have time to intercept them."
"We do."
Natasha observed the general’s expression. There was no longer any exhaustion or doubt in it. The waiting phase was over.
"What is the next step?"
Serafall pulled another map from beneath the stack of documents and opened it across the desk. Several red lines crossed the Empire’s borders and converged on the identified points.
"Total destruction."
Natasha analyzed the plan in silence.
"All positions at the same time?"
"Yes. If we attack them one by one, they will abandon the rest. The legions will be divided into smaller groups, each accompanied by someone from Intelligence. No target will have time to warn the others."
"Prisoners?"
"The researchers and leaders should be captured whenever possible. The experiments will be destroyed if they cannot be transported safely." Serafall rested one finger over Orthea. "The main laboratory is the priority. I want the records, the stable units, and everyone responsible for the process."
Natasha nodded.
"And the clans that did not participate?"
"They will receive an opportunity to remain outside the war."
"Do you think they will accept?"
"Some will accept out of fear. Others because they hate those responsible as much as we do." Serafall closed the map. "Those who refuse will make their choice."
Natasha stood and picked up the folder.
"When do we begin?"
"Tonight."
A brief pause passed between them.
"I will prepare the Seventh Squad," Natasha said.
"Prepare everyone."
Natasha understood what that meant. This would not be an isolated operation like Bramford. The Vampire Empire was about to stop merely responding to the attacks and begin eliminating the structure supporting them.
She walked toward the door, but stopped before leaving.
"Will Victor participate?"
Serafall made an irritated expression.
"No. He is training."
"With Rakshasa?"
"With her father."
Natasha remained quiet for several seconds.
"Then he is probably suffering more than he would in the war."
"Probably."
Natasha opened the door and left, leaving Serafall alone with the maps. The general looked back toward Orthea, calculating how many soldiers would be needed to surround the city without alerting its inhabitants.
Inside the ring attached to Victor’s finger, Rowena was also thinking about werewolves.
The space where her consciousness remained was simple. There were no true walls, sky, or passage of time like in the outside world. There was only a dark expanse shaped by the artifact’s energy and the memories she carried. Rowena could create small changes there, but normally saw no reason to do so. Most of the time, she simply followed Victor, complained about his decisions, and hoped he would not remove the ring in the middle of some absurd situation.
She had already been there long enough to reach an unpleasant conclusion.
Her life had been shit.
Rowena sat on the floor with her arms resting over her knees, remembering the clans where she had grown up. Werewolves liked to speak about freedom, instinct, and natural strength, but the structure they lived under contained nothing free. The strongest gave orders. The weakest obeyed. Children inherited their parents’ debts, women were traded between families, and anyone who questioned a leader had to prove their argument through combat.
"A shitty hierarchy," she murmured.
The worst part was that everyone acted as though that system were a source of pride. They said the pack needed order, that every member had their place, and that challenging tradition weakened the bloodline. In practice, it only kept useless old men in control while the young died defending decisions they had never been allowed to discuss.
Rowena lay on her side.
"It is such an idiotic structure that it makes you not even want to be a werewolf."
Since she had begun accompanying Victor, she had encountered vampires from different families and positions. They also had hierarchies, disputes, and arrogant people. They were not saints. Even so, Rowena could only see advantages.
Vampires had cities, libraries, schools, hospitals, organized armies, and recorded techniques. They could disagree with their leaders without needing to tear out someone’s throat inside a combat circle. Powerful women commanded troops, families, and territories without anyone treating it as an insult to nature.
Even the servants in the castles seemed to live better than many clan warriors.
"I should have been born a vampire."
The words came out more quietly than she intended.
A small tear ran from the corner of her eye. Rowena wiped it away quickly, although no one was there to see. Then she pulled her legs against her chest and curled up on the dark floor.
She did not envy only the vampires’ strength or longevity. She envied the possibility of choosing. Carmilla and Scarlet could love Victor without asking permission from a council. Natasha could serve the Empire because she wanted to. Serafall was feared by everyone, but could still be a mother whenever she was with her son.
Rowena had never possessed anything like that.
Her mind returned many years into the past, to before the ring, before the sealing, and before her name disappeared from the clan records. At that time, she still lived inside a fortress built among the mountains, surrounded by werewolves who claimed to be her family.
The young Rowena knelt at the center of a cold hall, blood running from the corner of her mouth. Dozens of clan members stood around her, but none approached to help.
In front of her, the leader held a staff made from werewolf bone.
"Stand," he ordered.
Rowena placed one hand on the floor.
Her left leg was broken, and her right arm no longer responded properly. Even so, she began rising because she knew what would happen if she remained on the ground.
"I said stand."
The staff struck her back before she finished.
Rowena fell again, hearing several laughs around her.
At that time, she still believed it was part of becoming strong. She still believed enduring everything in silence would make the clan respect her one day.
She did not yet know that place would never allow her to be free.
Rowena placed her hand on the floor again and tried to rise. The broken leg could not support her weight, so she shifted her body to the right and used her healthy knee for support. The leader waited until she was almost standing before striking the staff against her shoulder.
She fell once more.
"Why are you doing this?" Rowena asked, trying to control her breathing.
The man walked around her.
"Because you disobeyed an order."
"You ordered me to kill a child."
"He was the son of a traitor."
"He had done nothing."
The staff struck her ribs. Rowena felt two bones break, but did not scream. That seemed to irritate the leader more than any answer.
"You do not decide who deserves to live. Your duty is to obey the Alpha."
Rowena looked toward the other clan members. Some turned their eyes away. Others watched with indifference, while several appeared satisfied that they were not in her place.
Her mother stood among them.
Rowena searched her face for any sign of support, but found only fear. The woman squeezed her own hands and kept her head lowered, unable to confront the leader or approach her daughter.
At that moment, Rowena understood that no one would help her.
"Stand," the Alpha repeated.
She remained on the floor.
The man raised the staff again, but Rowena caught the weapon before the strike descended. Her fingers closed around the bone despite her injured arm.
The hall fell silent.
"I will not kill someone merely because you ordered me to," she said.
The Alpha tried to pull the staff away, but Rowena did not release it.
"Then you do not deserve to be part of this pack."
Rowena looked at his face and realized those words no longer frightened her.
"Perhaps I was never part of it."
He kicked her in the chest and tore the staff from her hands. Rowena was thrown several meters and landed on her back, but this time, no laughter came. Everyone understood that something had changed.
The Alpha pointed toward the guards.
"Take her to the cells. Tomorrow she will be judged before the other clans."
Two werewolves approached and lifted her by the arms. Rowena did not resist. As they dragged her from the hall, she looked at her mother one final time.
The woman’s head remained lowered.
It was that night, inside a cold cell, that Rowena began planning her escape. She did not yet know she would end up sealed inside a ring, but she was already certain of one thing.
She would rather disappear from the world than continue living under that pack’s orders.