239 Extinction Protocol
Lucian
After making the rounds with Rowan, I was impressed. No, satisfied. Mara hadn’t been bluffing when she said she’d throw money into weaponry. She’d done more than that, she’d turned our stockpile into a small-scale war machine.
Silver-laced grenades, hollow-point bullets dipped in silver, and gas canisters designed to choke the life out of any wolf that breathed them in, we had enough firepower to bring Rockville to its knees. With just fifteen of us, we could leave it
smoldering.
I didn’t want surrender. I didn’t want prisoners. Chase’s followers had chosen their side. I was going to wipe that choice
off the map, and leave the rest of his allies wondering who was next. Mara had been right: there was no way they could be
this well-armed. We had the advantage. And I intended to use it.
“Send a fully armed unit to Driftwake,” I told Rowan. “I don’t want any surprises. Chase promised Mistwood’s Alpha a
share of Bitumen. We both know where he plans to take it from.”
Rowan nodded, already calculating.
“I want eyes and guns in the city too. If they strike here, I want them choking on silver before they take a step.”
“What about the territories still under us?” Denis asked.
I shook my head. “They’re loyal until they’re not. The only ones I trust right now are in Mooncrest. I don’t want our weapons falling into Chase’s hands if someone decides to switch sides. No more charity. If those territories need help,
we’ll show up, but we’re not handing out arms. Not until the threat is gone.”
Everyone nodded. The logic was brutal, but it was clear. They understood.
“Now,” I said, raising my voice, “who are the twenty coming with me to Rockville?”
Hands shot up. A lot of them. Too many. I could feel the hesitation thick in the air like humidity before a storm. Some
volunteered out of pride. Others out of fear of looking weak. But not all of them wanted this fight.
I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t want numbers,” I said. “I want warriors. People who want this. Who will give everything without flinching. I don’t plan to die out there. So I need fighters who plan to win.”
The hands stayed up.
And then something strange happened, something I didn’t expect. My mark began to burn. Not painfully, but with a deep pulse, like it was syncing with the energy in the room. I felt them. Not just their names or faces. Their resolve. Like a
heartbeat echoing through each of them.
Some pulses were strong, clear, focused, unwavering.
Others were dimmer, flickering like candlelight in wind. Not traitorous. Just not all in.
And then, nothing.
I turned slightly and locked eyes with Denis. I couldn’t feel him. At all.
And I didn’t need a mark to know why.
He was here in body, but his heart was elsewhere. And that made him a liability.
“I hope you won’t run for the hills when we get there,” I said to Denis, keeping my tone cool.
He blinked, caught off guard. “No, Alpha. I won’t.”
1/3
Before I could say more, Darian walked up and rolled up his sleeve, revealing his upper right arm. His Alpha mark was glowing with intensity, pulsing like fire under the skin. The pride in his eyes was unmistakable. I chuckled.
Then I turned to Rowan.
I didn’t need the mark to tell me. His resolve was radiating from him like heat off stone. Focused. Unshakable. He had always been strong, but now… he was ready.
“Rowan,” I said, locking eyes with him. “From now on, you’re Gamma. Denis is Delta.”
The announcement hit like a hammer. Denis stiffened. His mouth opened slightly, but no protest came. He knew. Everyone did. This wasn’t punishment, it was alignment. He’d gotten what he wanted: to stay behind, close to his wife, far
from the fight.
“Stay in Mooncrest,” I told him. “Your duty now is to assist Mara. Follow her lead and defend the city if anything happens.”
There was a flicker of shame in his eyes. But he accepted it. He couldn’t abandon the front line and keep a title built on sacrifice. That wasn’t how this worked. Gamma was earned in fire, not comfort. And Denis had stepped out of the flame.
He had once been a Delta, and now he returned to the role. It fit better now.
I moved on.
I picked twenty wolves, each one loyal, each one tested by my mark. We armed ourselves in silence, checking weapons, gear, communication nodes. Then we boarded the Chinook, its blades thundering over Mooncrest, carrying us into the
sky.
The plan had been to hit Rockville in the afternoon.
I changed my mind.
They’d feel the weight of us the moment we landed. There would be no warning. No mercy. Just chaos raining from above, bombs, bullets, gas thick with silver, and then we’d drop in and finish what we started.
Inside the chopper, with the blades roaring around us, I rose to address my soldiers.
“They disrespected us. They threatened our lives,” I began, my voice rising over the din. “They’ve stolen from us, bled our island dry, driven fear into the hearts of our people. Our streets are empty. Our businesses closed. Families sit in silence,
afraid to speak too loud, afraid to move.”
I paused, letting their rage simmer with mine.
“No more.”
“They wanted war. We’ll give them extinction.”
“Tonight, Rockville disappears.”
The cabin erupted in a unified roar of approval. Fists pounded armor. Eyes burned with anticipation. Rowan was nearly vibrating with purpose. Darian looked like he’d been waiting for this moment his entire life.
I scanned their faces, and for the first time in days, my chest eased.
They were ready. Loyal. Hungry for justice.
And the moment we took to the air, my mark went still, quiet. No longer warning. No longer burning.
It was at peace.
Just like Rockville would be when we were done, with nothing left to stand.
We sat in the chopper for two long hours before we reached Kentville.
2/3
* Per>
Rockville came into view beneath us, a hidden settlement tucked deep in the woods. Isolated. Quiet. It looked harmless from above, like a cluster of cabins lost in the trees.
But I knew better.
The moment we arrived, we dropped the first wave of bombs. The Chinook circled overhead like a silent judge, and we rained death on them without hesitation. I didn’t need to guess, they didn’t have anti-aircraft. We barely had it ourselves. We were safe up here.
Screams pierced the smoke. Some were high-pitched, trying to sound like women and children, but I knew better. The cries sounded like panic in its rawest form. But I was past the point of mercy. They banked on my mercy, but I’ve learned I needed to be unpredictable to put an end to Chase.
The people weren’t innocent. This was a settlement of rogues. I could see it. I could feel their disloyalty, their rebellion.
They’d chosen to live under Chase, to be led by him. That meant they’d chosen everything he stood for. If they had a problem with what was happening, they should have taken it up with their alpha. Or at least tried.
If they lived long enough to get the chance.
“This looks like a civilian zone,” one of the soldiers said, his voice uncertain.
“Spray them all,” Darian snapped. “They showed no mercy at Driftwake. This isn’t a town. It’s an illegal rogue outpost. The
goal is simple, make it cease to exist.”
No one questioned him after that.
We kept shooting. Kept bombing. Kept silencing every cry.
