Page 199 of Wolf Roulette

It was fucking cruel, really. The last time they’d seen Vissimo, they lost thousands of their brethren.

I slid along the ground and rolled to watch over the edge of the observation tower.

“Bats. Task complete. Over.”

The betas were secure. Part of my north team maintained their fire on the status while the vampires worked to extract unconscious Luthers and deposit them at our pontoons.

The other statuses would soon stabilise, but luckily for us, each status had a weakness. Something I’d managed to figure out.

Gammas tended toward laziness and disinterest, so the stewards there opened a path to the lake shore and waited in the tree line by frequency generators.

The gammas took the bait.

They dropped to the sand.

Omegas were easily rattled, but I wasn’t sure how their stubbornness to obey orders would come into play. One in three of my stewards were armed with strobes.

The water around the omegas flickered and flashed. The strobes would further rattle them even if they refused to give up the fight.

I squinted South to the alphas.

For apparently being the strongest status in the pack, alphas were the easiest to manage.

We’d given them three choices. The shore. A pontoon. And staying put. Most of the alphas had surfaced, and I could see them arguing from here as each vied for control over the others.

Too many chefs spoiled the broth.

Too many alphas fucked everything up.

Deltas.

Dammit,I couldn’t move.

“Pascal. What’s happening east?”

“Luthers are scattering. Most are scaling the cliffs.”

I smiled. We hadn’t been sure exactly where each status would end up, but the cliffs were perfect for the deltas. Ambition and glory were their weakness. Alphas may seek to control others before making a move, but deltas wouldn’t bother. They were a collection of one-man armies.

None of them would work together, and so they’d all get in each other’s way.

I closed my eyes, listening to Booker’s weakening orders to the pack.

This was the last thing she’d wanted to do.

But she did it for us.

For Sascha and Greyson.

“Pascal?” I murmured.

She crouched by my side.

As black closed in, I spoke my last order. “Whatever time is left. Administer antidotes to fallen stewards. Give the order.”

Pascal smoothed my hair back. “Roger that, Head Steward.”

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