Chapter 31

Stormie

If I had the time I'd take that whole bottle of whiskey and drown myself in it. Maybe after all this was done. I let the two drinks I had help numb enough of my feelings in order to focus on what needed to be done. Z, my uncle, was here to help. He wanted to save his people, our people. I looked down at the map looking at the points we'd set up. "How many fighters do you have?" I asked.

It took him a minute to reply, but I knew he'd heard me. They all did and were watching me, waiting to see what I would do next. "I have 50," he replied softly.

My brain had latched on to the things that I could that weren't attached to my emotions and I let myself focus on those and only those right now.

"Can you get word to the pack members that still have loyalty to you? Have them secure their homes early and stay there until morning? We do not want more casualties than necessary. Your fighters, they know this land well?" I asked, the wheels in my head turning. I felt my brothe