Chapter 13: The Diplomatic Dance

The ballroom felt like an arena where the audience was waiting for a gladiator to get torn to pieces. I wasn't just 'Elian the human' anymore; I was the guy who had spent the last twenty-four hours deep in the King’s private data, and the realization made my blood hum. I walked into the summit chamber with my head held high, ignoring the whispers that hit me like waves of static. *There he is. The human who thinks he’s a King-maker.* "Elian," Sebastian hissed, stepping into my path. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week. "You’re walking like you own the place. You realize if you mess up this presentation, Dad is going to skin you alive, right?" "Seb, relax," I said, dodging past him without breaking stride. "If Dad wanted me alive, he shouldn't have sent me to play diplomat. Besides, I’ve got a backup plan." "And what’s that? Crying?" "Data mining," I flashed him a grin that probably looked a little too sharp. "It’s basically the modern version of a silver knife. And it’s much more efficient." I found my seat—right near the front, directly in the line of sight for every major Alpha in the room. Kaelen was already there, looking like he’d been carved out of granite. He didn't acknowledge me, but the way his fingers drummed against the arm of his throne told me he was waiting for the show. The meeting started with the usual posturing. Alpha Abel and Alpha Liam were at each other's throats again, spewing threats that sounded like they’d been rehearsed for a bad action movie. It was all noise. "Your Majesty," Alpha Abel growled, gesturing toward me with a sneer. "Must we listen to the human child’s report? Surely we have more pressing matters than hearing a non-wolf's perspective on border security?" The room laughed. It was a cold, jagged sound. I stood up, my chair scraping loudly against the floor. "You’re right, Abel," I said, my voice cutting through the tension like a razor. "My perspective is irrelevant. What’s relevant is the fact that your 'border security' is currently being financed by the very people you’re threatening to invade." Total silence. I pulled up the projection on the main screen—a beautifully color-coded graph of the shell companies I’d decrypted. "I don’t know much about hunting, but I do know how to follow a paper trail. And guess what? This trail leads straight to a warehouse in neutral territory that’s currently stuffed with enough silver-laced weaponry to turn half of you into coat racks." Kaelen leaned forward, his golden eyes fixed on the screen, his expression unreadable. "This is a lie!" Abel roared, his wolf side taking over, his eyes glowing. "The boy is trying to frame us!" "Am I?" I leaned against the table, looking bored. "I’ve got the invoices, the digital signatures, and a very detailed map of who signed off on the transfer. You want to call my bluff, Abel? Because I’m pretty sure the King doesn't like being played for a fool." I looked over at Kaelen. He wasn't looking at the screen. He was looking at me, and for the first time, I didn't see the predator. I saw the *King* recognizing an asset. "Continue," Kaelen commanded, his voice a low growl that made everyone else in the room shrink. I smiled. The trap was sprung, and the wolves were finally starting to realize they weren't the ones doing the hunting.