Romans & histoires Summit War

“And if they don’t push legally?” Rowan smiled. “Then they meet us.” I looked at each of them in turn - four men who had once protected me because they had to, and now did it because they chose to. “This summit will change things.” I said. “If it succeeds, Blackridge loses its ability to operate in the open. If it fails-” “We’ll already be at war.” Cameron finished. The words didn’t scare me. They grounded me. I picked up my coffee, finally took a sip. Coffee was cold. Forgotten.

And he would do it willingly—all for the chance to crawl back into my good graces. With my decision made, I dismissed him. The rest of us moved out, heading toward the summit. The weight of what lay ahead settled in my chest like a stone. If I said I wasn’t nervous, I would be lying. Because the summit wasn’t just a meeting. It was a battlefield of words, alliances, and silent wars fought behind closed doors. And I had no intention of walking away without a victory.

Dust rained down, choking the air. Guerrilla warfare, I thought. It clicked into place in my brain as I ducked beneath a beam. This wasn’t random. This wasn’t a tantrum from some scattered rogue faction. This was a planned assault. Timed. Coordinated. Targeted. The Summit was the most strategic gathering of power we’d had in decades. Every major Alpha, every heir, every second-in-command. This was the perfect place to strike if you wanted to destabilize the whole damn region.

The Republic of Telvinia’s airship hovered just beyond the clouds, soon to descend with ceremonial flare. The Summit was shaping into more than a gathering. It was becoming a declaration to the world—that despite scars, differences, histories of pain and war, unity could triumph. And for once, the smaller nations felt that they too were part of that triumph.

This task is yours alone to bear the burden. You must listen, so history does not repeat. Do you accept? Another wave of heat rolled over Nova's body, followed by an intense rush of nausea. Her knees nearly gave out. She took a breath, forcing the words in her mind. I accept. The voices grew louder, overlapping, distorted. Dozens of tones, all speaking as one. The clock ticks. In one day's time, an emergency summit of the High Council will be held. A war will destroy the North, the South, and the East.

However, a month ago, they suddenly got together to plan something, and Triton was one of them. However, Triton ranked in the middle of those warriors at the peak, so he did not have much power. The Toman Battlefield was not the only plan being set in motion, there were several others as well. As for what the plans were, Yeagen and others at his level did not know much about it. There were a total of three warriors at the peak of the Toman Battlefield. Other than Triton, there were Seymour and Desmond. Those two were ranked quite high among the warriors at the peak and were stronger than Triton. They were the leaders of this operation.

Harlow hovered near the door, her tablet screen dark, untouched. Roman broke the silence. “Concord almost killed us,” he said flatly, voice like steel under pressure. “You have any idea how close that was?” Riven’s head snapped up. He stood, soaked through, jacket dripping on the floor. “I was in it. What were you doing—hiding behind a screen?” Ari blinked awake, lifting his head. “Hey, I jammed the motion sensors—” “Not all of them,” Riven shot back.

The summit was an opportunity for packs to come together, discuss matters of vital importance, and forge alliances that ensured the continued existence of their kind. The history of the summit dated back centuries, harkening to a time when territorial disputes and conflicts threatened to tear apart the werewolf community. The visionary leaders of that era sought a way to maintain peace and cooperation, leading to the inception of the summit. It became a sacred event, held annually or biennially, where packs from far and wide would converge to discuss matters of territories, boundaries, and the overall welfare of werewolves.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. Nicole’s shoulders sagged beside me. Across from me, Katherine’s shoulders loosened as well. Serena finally turned away from me, addressing the other Alphas. “This war could potentially affect the economy if nothing is done about it,” she continued. I completely zoned out after that, basking in the relief flooding my chest. She wasn’t waging war against us. That was all that mattered. The summit continued without any more tension. I caught fragments of the conversation—something about intervening in the war, alliances, resources.

He shrugged and that seemed sincere enough, so I decided to respond. “Have you ever thought that maybe finding some sort of middle ground would be a better compromise? Ever heard of a peace treaty? When we were younger, we were taught about the great war that nearly tore all the packs apart about a century ago. The leading Alphas back then saw how much death and destruction the war was causing, and decided to hold a summit. For days they gathered and deliberated on the best way to compromise so every pack would get something, and war would end. It took a while, but eventually, they achieved what they set out for. Peace.”