The Villain Alpha's Cursed Mate-Chapter 134: Cry Of War

"Are you being serious?" Esme blinked in stupefaction. "Can you look for ways to tease me when we’re past this. This is certainly not the time for that."

"Do I look like I’m joking?" Donovan folded his arms, his expression unyielding, despite the seriousness in her voice. "You want me to help Lennox of all people. What makes you so certain I won’t kill him instead? If that king of yours wakes up and sees me, the first thing he’ll do is try to kill me again, meanwhile I’m the one trying to save his life. At least give your mate some motivation."

"There’s no time for that," Esme replied, her voice faltering as she struggled to stay firm, but Donovan wasn’t buying it.

"Then you’d better hurry," he retorted instead, leaving Esme with no choice but to reluctantly concede to his absurd demands.

"Fine, that makes us even," she exhaled sharply, her frustration mounting. "Save Lennox, and in return, I’ll do whatever you want." Esme knew her mind was too clouded to offer anything clever enough to satisfy Donovan, so she opted for the easiest concession.

At last, she saw a flicker of reaction from him.

"Anything, huh?" Donovan’s tone shifted, his words laced with a subtle bitterness. "You want to save him that desperately?" His expression darkened slightly, and for a moment, his unexpected jealousy stunned Esme, whilst she groaned internally.

"You... just do it! We can discuss this later!" she snapped gently, exasperation clear in her voice.

Before Donovan could say anything else, Lothar appeared at his side, whispering something urgent into his ear. Without another word, Donovan turned his attention one last time toward Esme before the two men turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, torn between her own relief and a mounting dread.

Esme’s gaze drifted to the walls of the fortress, where the warriors were laboring in position the enormous ballistae along the battlements. The warriors, alongside the battle-hardened Northerners who had changed their outfits into armor, moved in perfect synchronization.

They pulled the thick ropes taut, tightening the gears with precision, and they tested the tension of their siege weapon with practiced hands.

The sharp metallic clicks of mechanisms and the heavy thud of wood echoed steadily in the cold air.

Amid the commotion, Esme spotted the trio’s lingering at the fortress’s entrance, fastening their grappling hooks to their gear. Already aware of what those boys were planning to do, she strode toward them, alarmed.

"What do you think you’re doing?" Her reprimanding voice cut through the noise, her tone commanding and filled with concern. "You three should be making your way to the shelter. There’s no way I’m letting you risk your lives by joining the other warriors."

Her gaze swept the three of them, taking in their disapproving looks, but she remained unyielding. "You’ve done enough already. Go with the non-combatants and keep an eye on them instead. You’re far too young and unprepared to face the demons in such numbers."

Simon didn’t hesitate to back Esme up, "She’s right. We should leave the battle to those who are trained for it. We should just follow everyone else to see the shelter."

Luca and Finnian still resisted, but they couldn’t deny the stern logic in Esme’s words.

"Hiding in a shelter is boring, and I don’t wanna mix with those undiscovered people." Uttered Luca, his dissatisfaction evident.

"You mean the Northerners?" Esme corrected, raising an eyebrow, but Luca shrugged indifferently. "I don’t know, they’re still undiscovered to me."

"Undiscovered or not, you three will be joining them in the shelter, and it’s for your own safety. No buts –" Esme silenced Finnian before he could protest, her voice taking on a firm, almost maternal tone, and it brooked no arguments.

Luca and Finnian exchanged glances before sighing in reluctant acceptance. Though disappointed, they still kept their grappling hooks before trudging off to join the non-combatants.

"Fifteen minutes!" Kangee’s caw rang out sharply in the darkening sky, a clear reminder that time was slipping away.

Everyone was doing the best they could, and Lothar was overseeing the deployment of warriors, his eyes scanning the defensive lines as he relayed critical positions to Donovan.

His voice rang out with authority as he shouted his orders. "Set the ballistae at the main gate along the eastern rampart! We need a clear line of fire when the demons are in range."

The clamor of preparation continued as he added, "Archers, take your position! Focus your fire on the front lines – we’ll stagger the shots for maximum impact!"

Groups of Archers all hailing from the North, rushed towards their assigned towers, taking up their positions with quiet urgency. Donovan had carefully devised the strategy, accounting to the limited number of Northerners who were skilled in archery or capable of operating the massive ballistae.

With far more warriors at his disposal, Donovan had made the calculated decision to station the Northerners within the safety of the fortress walls, tasking them with defending the gates from a distance. Meanwhile, the majority of his skilled warriors would go outside the fortress and engage the demons head-on.

Any demon that managed to break through their ranks would be left for the Northerners to eliminate from the towers above.

Esme had overheard Donovan discussing the plan with Lothar and Revana, and her heart was heavy with concern for the lives of his warriors. She knew this was a grim strategy, and even if Donovan had approached it differently, the odds of victory would be slimmer still. There was no perfect solution for cases like this one, only choices that would determine the fate of everyone tonight.

"Are you worried about us, Miss?" Esme turned to find the two warriors who had been by her side standing behind her, their faces a mixture of concern and confidence.

"You don’t need to worry about us," One of them, whose name was Orion, reassured her with a steady smile. "We trust our Alpha. More than that, we’re actually looking forward to this battle, right Atticus?" he clapped his companion on the shoulder, his voice full of enthusiasm.

Atticus shifted slightly, resting a hand on his hip and shaking his head with a faint sigh. "It’s not the battle that concerns me," he admitted, gripping the hilt of his sheathed sword. "To be honest, I’m more uneasy about the Northerners than the wolves. I trust our Alpha, truly, but isn’t he putting a little too much faith in them to cover our flank? What if they turn on us from the tower? I can’t say I trust them... to be honest, I don’t, but what choice do we have since the Alpha has made his decision."

Esme sensed the weight of his unease. She understood the hesitation many of Donovan’s warriors felt. His reliance on the Northerners seemed risky, as if he was prioritizing their safety over his own people. But Esme knew Donovan’s strategy was far more complex than it appeared, and she didn’t doubt his way of doing things.

"Everything will turn out fine. You need to have faith in your Alpha, and I believe he’s making hard decisions for the good of everyone, even if things aren’t exactly in our favor right now."

Orion suddenly pushed Atticus with a scowl. "I’m the one who should be getting comforted, not him. He’s a completely different person in battle, and I swear he’s just putting on a front right now."

Atticus rolled his eyes, shoving Orion in retaliation. "How is my caution toward the North an act? Ugh, just shut up!" He gave Orion a swift kick in his rear. "The Alpha is calling us, excuse us, Miss."

Esme couldn’t help but chuckle as she watched Atticus drag Orion with him, the light-heartedness easing the tension that had been weighing her heart.

Their banter brought a brief moment of calm, and she found herself wanting to believe that no lives would be lost. Even Althea, usually full of energy, was standing next to her sister at the peak of the walls, her expression one of clear determination.

Meanwhile, the archers descended to the upper levels, taking their positions behind the battlements. Their eyes were trained on the horizon, waiting for the slightest sign of movement.

They knew that timing was everything — one mistimed volley, and the enemy could be at their gates within moments.

Below, the Northern warriors who were more familiar with their traps diligently set them up, their movements hurried but precise. Esme flinched when a hand lightly touched her shoulder. Turning, she found Donovan standing behind her, his presence reassuring.

"You should head to the shelter," he said, his voice calm but firm. "I kept Leonardo in charge of Lennox for the meantime, so he’s handling the situation. The demons are close, you should get going."

"Stay safe," Esme replied, her words a mixture of worry and command, and he gave a brief nod in response.

However, as Esme cast a glance towards the keep, where a certain courtesan was beckoning her over, she hesitated.

Something stirred within her, and she turned back to Donovan, her voice softer this time. "I mean it. Be safe."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and before she could react, he cupped her face and leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on the crown of her head.

"I will." he promised.

Kangee’s voice pierced the air as it announced, "Five minutes!" The warning echoed through the night, and with a final look at Donovan’s retreating figure, Esme broke into a run, joining the courtesan who led her into the keep, and the iron doors were closed shut.

Donovan and his warriors stood poised atop the gate, eyes fixed on the horizon as they braced themselves for the inevitable. Within moments, the ground began to tremble, the tremor faint at first, but it grew stronger with each passing second.

The Northern warriors exchanged tense glances, swallowing their nerves, but they remained steadfast at their posts, adrenaline coursing through their veins.

In the distance, the demon wolves came into view, charging relentlessly on the snow-covered layne toward the gate. Donovan waited for the tremors to intensify as he felt the vibrations of the approaching horde. Only when the beasts were close enough did he raise his voice with command.

"NOW!"

At his signal, the ballistae unleashed a volley of massive projectiles, streaking through the air towards the oncoming wolf beasts. As the siege weapons were fired, Donovan and his warriors vaulted from the gate’s battlements, their cloaks whipping violently in the wind as they descended into the fray, only to lift themselves into the air using their grappling hooks, attaching it to nearby poles.

The warriors charged headlong with a cry of war, many of them shifting mid-leap into formidable wolf forms.

Behind them, the archers let loose a steady rain of arrows, and each one was coated with the potent Lycobane serum. As the rain of arrows struck their targets below, the demon wolves were forced back to the natural demon form, and Donovan seized the opportunity, along with his warriors.

Cursed blades flashed in the dim light as they came down on the monstrous wolves.