Matthew's Pov

　　"If we go over the hill, we can gain the high ground for the attack. The ambush will be set a few kilometers down, near the beach," Liam, my beta, informs seriously, his voice firm. His posture is erect and his eyes are fixed on the map in front of him. He points to the indicated locations on the map, moving the tokens that represent our troops and those of the Moonshadow Pack with military precision. "With this, we can corner them here," Liam points to the cliff on the map, the intensity of his eyes reflecting the urgency of the situation. I scratch my beard automatically while absorbing every detail of the plan, analyzing all the potential weaknesses.

　　The walls around us seem to want to close in, the environment is almost claustrophobic due to the density of people and the concentration of energy. There are overlapping voices, even though they are low, like elevated murmurs, each offering suggestions, creating a constant hum that begins to test my patience.

　　"This way, Moonshadow will be defenseless, Alpha Matthew. We can end this conflict and still gain their territory," Liam concludes, his voice loaded with a confidence that almost borders on the certainty of success with the plan.

　　The meeting room is large and imposing, it is full. The air is thick with expectations and fatigue, a combination that reflects the intensity of the discussions and the collective effort. The solid wooden table in the center of the room is covered with detailed maps, tokens representing troops, and a multitude of hastily scribbled notes.

　　The chairs around the table are occupied by serious and focused figures. I feel a bit suffocated with so many people around the table analyzing and talking about strategies. I rub my tired eyes before I can say anything.

　　"Please, ask Steven to bring a round of energy drinks and also some snacks. We will be here longer than I planned," I comment with a sigh, feeling the weight of the accumulated hours on my back.

　　I walk around the table, looking intently at the map. We already had casualties on the first day of confrontation with the Moonshadow Pack, they took a long time to retreat with their men, and we almost lost territory. The memory of that day invades my mind. The smell of blood and wet earth still seems present in my nostrils, a memory that refuses to fade away.

　　"And the Direwolf Pack? When will they enter the battle?" I ask seriously, my voice coming out dragged and hoarse, the fatigue evident in every word.

　　I still want to kill Daniel Garcia for the audacity he had to declare himself to Emma, my mate. But I need the investments his father, Peter Garcia, has been providing. The alliance between my pack, the Night Howlers Pack, and the Direwolf Pack is fragile but very necessary. After all, the enemy of my enemy is my friend, right? The grudge between the Direwolf Pack and the Moonshadow Pack is bigger than the new one I have with Daniel. The Moonshadow Pack has wanted for years to eliminate the Direwolf Pack because of the marriage between Helena and Peter, which was a dishonor in the eyes of Alpha Tim Davis of the Moonshadow Pack. Losing his fiancée in that way wounded the alpha's ego.

　　Just as it has wounded his son Michael's fragile ego, knowing that Emma preferred to stay by my side with my pack rather than go back to that excuse of a man. Even before we became mates.

　　I have not yet faced Michael personally. We are both not stupid, when there is a confrontation, there are also warriors protecting us so that we are not hit. Michael has been leading his father's troops. There are few reports that Alpha Tim Davis was actually on the battlefield fighting alongside his werewolves.

　　My beta Liam looks at me, his expression matching mine, exhausted but determined.

　　"Alpha Peter Garcia has provided some men to go with us, including his son, Daniel Garcia," Liam responds and places a new token on the map representing the Direwolf Pack. The mention of Daniel's name makes Fenrir roar inside me, remembering the affront that night at the hotel.

　　"How many men is he sending? His pack is large, almost enough to surpass ours in numbers," I say thoughtfully, my tone firm. My steps are heavy and firm on the floor of the meeting room, echoing throughout the room.

　　Most of the members in this room are seated, analyzing the strategies with me. The elders are present, as well as the commanders of my troops.

　　Liam fiddles with the tablet on the long and wide wooden table, his fingers making noise against the device's screen, searching for the necessary information.

　　"Around a hundred and fifty warriors, Alpha Matthew," Liam responds, his voice more tired, and I notice my beta's eyes becoming a bit more sleepy and heavy. We have been in this meeting for many hours, and the early morning has long caught up with us. "Besides the arsenal that Alpha Peter Garcia provided us. More than three hundred thousand dollars were invested in enchanted weapons that the Direwolf Pack invested in."

　　I tap my fingers on the edge of the table, the sound of my fingers drumming on the edge of the table echoing my thoughts, each taps a calculation of the costs and challenges encountered in negotiating with the sorcerers. The value was not the problem, it was a great amount that Alpha Peter Garcia provided. The reluctance of the sorcerers to offer a fair price for the quantity of necessary weapons was the real complication.

　　I look at the elders and commanders around the table, each showing signs of fatigue, but also a fierce desire to win this war. Our decisions in the coming hours can define the future of the pack and I know I cannot afford mistakes.

　　The door to the meeting room opens and Steven, the head chef of our pack, appears with a food cart. He bows in my direction and I allow him to enter. The smell of food permeates the environment, dissipating the air of fatigue for a few minutes.

　　"I took the liberty of bringing pizzas, Alpha Matthew. I believe everyone here needs something tasty to go with the energy drinks," Steven announces as he parks the cart in a corner of the room.

　　"Good choice, Steven. Thank you, you may start serving, please," I order quickly and firmly.