Taming the Wild Beast of Alamina

Arion shot Hendrik a warning look.

He might have been the youngest person in the command structure, but that had never prevented him from making considerably older officers regret encouraging Dean.

”No. He will not be doing any of that.”

”I have autonomy,” Dean said, unimpressed.

Three years together had taught him exactly how far he could push Arion before concern turned into outright obstruction, and Arion knew it.

”You have a warning now.” Arion turned his attention back to the maps spread across the conference table. ”I agree with Father about expanding the drone surveillance, but we keep it safe for the moment. No personnel beyond the established perimeter until we understand what changed.”

The disappearance of the beasts had affected every military plan they had made since August.

Normally, by the end of summer, the infected populations would already have begun moving toward inhabited territories. Dominant alphas from allied kingdoms would rotate through Alamina, border settlements would be partially evacuated, and military units would spend weeks pushing the beasts back into the regions where ordinary people could not survive.

This year, there had been nothing.

Reconnaissance teams had found old tracks, abandoned nesting areas, and the remains of animals killed months earlier, but no fresh concentrations. Even the regions that had once been impossible to approach were silent.

That silence had prevented anyone from relaxing.

If anything, troop readiness had increased.

”We can send six long-range drones without touching the units assigned to border surveillance,” Hendrik said. He marked several points on the terrain map. ”Two north, two northeast, and two held in reserve. The northern pair can follow the old migration corridor. The northeastern route takes us toward the largest nesting region recorded during the last three seasons.”

”Thermal imaging?” Otto asked.

”Thermal, motion detection, and atmospheric sampling. We can also carry acoustic sensors. If the beasts have moved underground or deeper into the forest, we may not see them directly.”

Dean studied the map. ”And if you find empty nests all the way through?”

”Then we extend farther.”

Arion shook his head. ”Gradually. I do not want us interpreting the absence of an attack as proof the terrain has become safe.”

Hendrik nodded.

Nobody at the table needed the reminder. Alamina had lost enough soldiers over the years to people assuming a quiet region was an empty one.

The possibility that Andrea had somehow been influencing the beasts remained uncomfortable precisely because they had so little evidence.

They knew Claudia’s organization had altered his pheromones.

They knew the resulting ability had affected infected animals.

They did not know whether Andrea had merely manipulated beasts already approaching Alamina or whether his presence had influenced their movement over much greater distances.

Dean’s suggestion of testing dominant blood was not entirely absurd. That was what made Arion dislike it more.

”We can test preserved samples later,” Otto said. ”Under controlled conditions and without involving a living donor anywhere near the restricted territory.”

Arion looked directly at Dean.

Dean ignored him.

Hendrik continued, ”First we establish whether there are beasts available to respond at all. If the drones find concentrations, then Seven can design the biological testing.”

”That is the correct order,” Arion said.

Dean accepted it with a small nod.

The second problem was Draxil.

Arion shifted another file onto the map.

”We also need access to Draxil without turning this into an international incident.”

A dangerous glint appeared in Dean’s eyes.

Arion noticed immediately.

”No illegal entry.”

Dean’s expression remained perfectly neutral.

”I said nothing.”

”You were considering it.”

Dean looked at the intelligence file instead. ”Their government is barely functioning.”

”That does not erase their borders.”

More importantly, Draxil was already looking for reasons to accuse foreign kingdoms of interfering in its succession. The two principal claimants controlled different portions of the military and government, while both continued issuing orders under the authority of a king who was alive only because neither son wanted the other to inherit first.

Saha had become increasingly hostile after repeated accusations against Nero.

Rohan was already politically entangled through Heather’s marriage to Eryx.

If Alamina were caught operating inside Draxil without permission, every faction could use it.

”We have three separate objectives,” Arion said. ”Claudia’s Palace, Amaru, and the records surrounding his exile. We do not combine them unless necessary.”

Otto nodded. ”Good.”

”Claudia’s Palace remains a diplomatic negotiation. We continue approaching both claimants without committing support to either.”

”They will want an answer eventually,” Dean said.

”They will receive one when we know what they can offer and whether Amaru is viable.”

That was the part none of them could evaluate from Alamina.

Amaru had been gone for eight years.

If King Ashar had ordered his scent gland removed, his physical condition could range from almost normal with careful medical treatment to permanently debilitated. If the gland remained intact, prolonged isolation and confinement could still have changed him mentally.

They were not searching for a prince merely to rescue him.

They were searching for a possible ruler.

”We need to know whether he can govern,” Dean said. ”Not whether he can stand upright for an audience.”

”Exactly,” Arion replied. ”Physical stability, cognitive function, emotional regulation, judgment, and memory. Then we determine whether he still understands Draxil well enough to take control of it.”

”And whether people will follow him without his dominance,” Otto added.

If Amaru’s gland had been removed, whatever instinctive authority his pheromones once gave him might be gone.

That did not necessarily make him useless.

It would tell them whether the loyalty surrounding him before exile had belonged to the man or merely to his secondary gender.

”For Amaru, we begin outside Draxil,” Arion continued. ”Ports, neutral-island registries, medical-supply records, and shipping routes from the year of his exile. No dominant teams. No royal representatives.”

”Civilian intelligence?” Hendrik asked.

”And people with legitimate reasons to move between the islands. Shipping inspectors, medical researchers, and legal representatives where necessary.”

Dean glanced at the list Eryx had sent.

”Twelve possible islands.”

”Probably fewer,” Arion said. ”Ashar needed somewhere secure enough to keep Amaru isolated, medically equipped if he intended the gland removal, and politically neutral enough that Draxil could deny responsibility.”

”That should eliminate several,” Otto said.

”Especially if we identify which clinics supplied physicians to the royal household that year.”

Hendrik made a note.

Dean looked between the maps: Alamina’s silent beast territory on one side, Draxil and its scattered neutral islands on the other.

”So for now, drones here. Records there.”

”Yes,” Arion said. ”And no one does anything clever merely because the obvious methods are slow.”

Dean raised an eyebrow.

Arion added, ”That was specifically for you.”

”I understood.”

Arion did not entirely believe him.