Riley's POV
Hours drag by as we hammer out the details of our desperate plan. Two plans, actually. One to extract the children from danger, and another to bring down my father once and for all. My eyelids feel like lead weights, threatening to close every few minutes, but I force myself to stay alert. Every time Caleb notices me swaying or blinking slowly, he shoots me that concerned look and suggests I get some rest. But I refuse to back down. This isn't the time to be half-conscious when lives hang in the balance.
The children finally succumbed to exhaustion hours ago, leaving Marcus and Elena downstairs with our war council. The tension in the room is thick enough to cut with a knife.
"I don't like any part of this plan," Marcus states firmly, his jaw set as he stares down Caleb. "My place is here with the pack when everything goes to hell."
