The boardroom was quiet, lit by the soft afternoon glow filtering through the tall glass windows that lined one side of the room. The city skyline framed the background in still motion. Justine stood by the windows, one hand in his pocket, the other loosely holding a glass of water he hadn’t touched.He heard the door open behind him.“Commander,” he said without turning.“Yes, sir,” came Harris’s voice, steady but laced with fatigue.Justine turned to face him. His expression wasn’t angry. It was more measured, and sounded even a little tired. “You’re back.”“I am,” Harris nodded.Justine looked him over, then quietly asked, “How many of your men made it back with you?”There was a pause.“Seven,” Harris replied. “Seven, out of eleven.”Justine’s gaze lingered on him. “I heard.”Harris gave a small nod, saying nothing.“What happened to the others?”“They… fell behind,” Harris said. He ran a hand across his brow. “Didn't run fast enough. Things got messy. If we’d stayed or waited for
The warm, amber glow of crystal lanterns hung from the high arched ceiling of the Great Hall, casting soft light over the polished timber walls and intricately patterned stone floor. The space was grand yet refined, a testament to Lunarville's blend of tradition and progress. The long council table, carved from a single ancient tree, stretched the length of the hall, surrounded by high-backed chairs marked with the sigils of each clan.Seven Alphas sat in their respective seats, their faces drawn with the gravity of the moment. Though the Great Hall buzzed faintly with the low hum of energy panels lining the edges—hidden cleverly behind natural textures—the air was heavy with silence. Tension rippled beneath the surface.At the head sat Alpha Thane, his expression as resolute as the blade of a warrior who has seen too many battles. His eyes swept the room before settling briefly on the youngest Alpha among them.“I want to acknowledge Alpha Cormac of Ravenhurst,” he began, his voice e
A heavy silence cloaked the Great Hall after Thane's words. For a brief moment, it seemed the weight of truth might bind them.Then Alpha Hijar of Villapaw leaned back, one brow raised, voice laced with pointed skepticism. “You speak of unity as though it’s a simple thing, Thane,” he said. “But the clans are autonomous for a reason. Always have been. Your... noble motive notwithstanding,”—he tilted his head with a wry smirk—“suggesting that we all come together might sound heroic, but it’s just like telling us Alphas to give up our autonomy, and that's not the way of our kind.”Thane’s eyes flared, his patience strained. “This isn’t about anyone giving up his autonomy, Hijar! It’s about survival. About werewolves standing as one realm against a common enemy. Humans don’t care which banner we raise or which clan they attack first, they want us all gone.”Alpha Renosh raised a calming hand, his voice the most level among them. “I understand you, Thane. I truly do. But I also understand
Lylah’s morning began with silence, save for the occasional sound of the kitchen clock ticking rhythmically in the background. She stood by the stove, preparing a breakfast as if it were any other day, as though her world hadn’t gotten even worse over the last few weeks. The aroma of crispy bacon, sizzling eggs, and freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen, offering a fleeting comfort in an otherwise bleak atmosphere. But the food wasn’t for her; it was for Kael.She carefully arranged the tray—scrambled eggs, some bacon, a slice of buttered toast, and a cup of coffee—and, once everything was set, carried it from the kitchen with quiet determination. As she passed through the hallway, a security guard, who had been standing outside the door like a silent sentinel, followed her closely. Lylah didn’t mind the guard, though; she had grown used to the twenty-four hour surveillance. What she couldn't get used to was the coldness in Kael’s eyes every time he looked at her, as if she were n
Kael closed the door to his room behind him, leaning against it as a long, shaky breath escaped his lungs. The silence was deafening. He pressed his palms into his eyes, trying—and failing—to shut out the memory of Lylah’s anguished cries, the pain in Angela’s eyes, the sound of the tray crashing to the ground.Why did everything feel so wrong?He paced the room, restless, agitated. Losing sight of the fact that he had been preparing to go out earlier, he pick up a book from his nightstand and pried it open, but the words blurred uselessly before him. He turned on his computer, then shut it off almost immediately. His chest felt tight, his mind a whirlwind of guilt, anger, confusion. He couldn't focus, couldn't be himself.Without even consciously deciding, his feet carried him down the hallway. His pulse hammered in his ears. His heart twisted with a feeling he didn't want to name. Before he could second-guess himself, he reached Angela’s door and, without knocking, slid it open.Ang
The research lab on the second floor buzzed with quiet urgency. Blueprints were spread across metal tables, glowing monitors tracked chemical reactions, and at the center of the room sat the Kyrexin-X—a matte black, angular device. Its surface was fitted with slim vents and illuminated digital panels that pulsed with soft blue light, casting a faint glow onto the surrounding equipment.A group of white-coated scientists moved with precision around the device, performing final checks and calibrations.In the far corner, Justine stood beside Dr. Ganner, observing the work going on before them. Right behind them, Kael stood in front of a desk, watching them with apprehension.“I believe we should move in a week,” Justine said, his voice calm but resolute. “They’re tightening their patrols. Harris’ intel confirms it. If we wait too long, we lose the element of surprise.”Dr. Ganner stroked his grey-speckled beard thoughtfully. “And I believe a fortnight is more prudent,” he said with gent
The sterile air in the lab still shimmered faintly with the heat of success. The scientists’ footsteps had barely faded from the corridor, and the applause they had given still rang in Justine's ear. The moment had felt victorious, but Dr. Ganner's last words were now threatening to throw him off balance. He had remained where he stood, his hands behind his back, eyes fixed on the matte-black weapon at the center of the table. Beside him, Dr. Ganner was no longer smiling.“Well?” Justine asked, his voice low. “What kind of problems?”Dr. Ganner didn’t answer immediately. He moved to a nearby screen, fingers tapping with habitual precision until streams of data and gene sequences rolled into view. His expression was taut.“I’ve encountered challenges with developing the antidote,” he said. “Serious challenges.”Justine’s brow furrowed as he turned toward his friend. “Peter, you’ve had weeks. You've had Kael’s blood for ages, full lab access, state of the art equipment, financial suppo
LUNARVILLE The hearth crackled quietly in Lunarville's strategy chamber, its warmth casting shifting amber light across the stone walls. Afternoon sunlight filtered through high windows, illuminating the maps and war tokens spread across the long table.Alpha Thane sat at the head, jaw tight, eyes on the flames rather than the two Alphas seated with him. The silence between them was heavy—not hostile, but thoughtful.It was Alpha Billam who broke it.“I know it felt like last week's convention was a failure,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “But don’t let that deter you. All isn't lost yet.”Thane didn’t respond at once, but his eyes flicked briefly toward Billam.Billam continued, “For what it’s worth, I stand with you. And you know I mean that fully. Unity is the only way forward, and though the others can’t—or won’t—see that yet, some of us do.” He glanced at the other man across the table. “Cochram agrees.”Alpha Cochram gave a short nod. “I do. After I slept on it, I couldn’t
The days that followed the quiet meeting in the strategy chamber were anything but quiet.Thane, together with Alpha Billam and Alpha Cochram, wasted no time. With the alliance now formed—small as it was—they began fortifying Lunarville and their own clans. Patrols were doubled. Old signal towers were repaired and rekindled. Hidden caches of silver-resistant armor were dug up from storage, and training resumed with renewed intensity.Archers were drilled from dawn till dusk, their arrows tipped with sharpened obsidian and infused with wolfsbane extracts in case of ambush. Gauntlets—thick, rune-etched iron bracers designed to deflect both blades and bullets—were redistributed to front-line fighters. Trap-masters, a nearly forgotten order from the First Hunt Era, were summoned back into service to lay intricate trigger snares through the outer paths of the Heartwood.Fire pits laced with scented herbs to mask scent trails were dug near every village boundary. Night sentinels were traine
LUNARVILLE The hearth crackled quietly in Lunarville's strategy chamber, its warmth casting shifting amber light across the stone walls. Afternoon sunlight filtered through high windows, illuminating the maps and war tokens spread across the long table.Alpha Thane sat at the head, jaw tight, eyes on the flames rather than the two Alphas seated with him. The silence between them was heavy—not hostile, but thoughtful.It was Alpha Billam who broke it.“I know it felt like last week's convention was a failure,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “But don’t let that deter you. All isn't lost yet.”Thane didn’t respond at once, but his eyes flicked briefly toward Billam.Billam continued, “For what it’s worth, I stand with you. And you know I mean that fully. Unity is the only way forward, and though the others can’t—or won’t—see that yet, some of us do.” He glanced at the other man across the table. “Cochram agrees.”Alpha Cochram gave a short nod. “I do. After I slept on it, I couldn’t
The sterile air in the lab still shimmered faintly with the heat of success. The scientists’ footsteps had barely faded from the corridor, and the applause they had given still rang in Justine's ear. The moment had felt victorious, but Dr. Ganner's last words were now threatening to throw him off balance. He had remained where he stood, his hands behind his back, eyes fixed on the matte-black weapon at the center of the table. Beside him, Dr. Ganner was no longer smiling.“Well?” Justine asked, his voice low. “What kind of problems?”Dr. Ganner didn’t answer immediately. He moved to a nearby screen, fingers tapping with habitual precision until streams of data and gene sequences rolled into view. His expression was taut.“I’ve encountered challenges with developing the antidote,” he said. “Serious challenges.”Justine’s brow furrowed as he turned toward his friend. “Peter, you’ve had weeks. You've had Kael’s blood for ages, full lab access, state of the art equipment, financial suppo
The research lab on the second floor buzzed with quiet urgency. Blueprints were spread across metal tables, glowing monitors tracked chemical reactions, and at the center of the room sat the Kyrexin-X—a matte black, angular device. Its surface was fitted with slim vents and illuminated digital panels that pulsed with soft blue light, casting a faint glow onto the surrounding equipment.A group of white-coated scientists moved with precision around the device, performing final checks and calibrations.In the far corner, Justine stood beside Dr. Ganner, observing the work going on before them. Right behind them, Kael stood in front of a desk, watching them with apprehension.“I believe we should move in a week,” Justine said, his voice calm but resolute. “They’re tightening their patrols. Harris’ intel confirms it. If we wait too long, we lose the element of surprise.”Dr. Ganner stroked his grey-speckled beard thoughtfully. “And I believe a fortnight is more prudent,” he said with gent
Kael closed the door to his room behind him, leaning against it as a long, shaky breath escaped his lungs. The silence was deafening. He pressed his palms into his eyes, trying—and failing—to shut out the memory of Lylah’s anguished cries, the pain in Angela’s eyes, the sound of the tray crashing to the ground.Why did everything feel so wrong?He paced the room, restless, agitated. Losing sight of the fact that he had been preparing to go out earlier, he pick up a book from his nightstand and pried it open, but the words blurred uselessly before him. He turned on his computer, then shut it off almost immediately. His chest felt tight, his mind a whirlwind of guilt, anger, confusion. He couldn't focus, couldn't be himself.Without even consciously deciding, his feet carried him down the hallway. His pulse hammered in his ears. His heart twisted with a feeling he didn't want to name. Before he could second-guess himself, he reached Angela’s door and, without knocking, slid it open.Ang
Lylah’s morning began with silence, save for the occasional sound of the kitchen clock ticking rhythmically in the background. She stood by the stove, preparing a breakfast as if it were any other day, as though her world hadn’t gotten even worse over the last few weeks. The aroma of crispy bacon, sizzling eggs, and freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen, offering a fleeting comfort in an otherwise bleak atmosphere. But the food wasn’t for her; it was for Kael.She carefully arranged the tray—scrambled eggs, some bacon, a slice of buttered toast, and a cup of coffee—and, once everything was set, carried it from the kitchen with quiet determination. As she passed through the hallway, a security guard, who had been standing outside the door like a silent sentinel, followed her closely. Lylah didn’t mind the guard, though; she had grown used to the twenty-four hour surveillance. What she couldn't get used to was the coldness in Kael’s eyes every time he looked at her, as if she were n
A heavy silence cloaked the Great Hall after Thane's words. For a brief moment, it seemed the weight of truth might bind them.Then Alpha Hijar of Villapaw leaned back, one brow raised, voice laced with pointed skepticism. “You speak of unity as though it’s a simple thing, Thane,” he said. “But the clans are autonomous for a reason. Always have been. Your... noble motive notwithstanding,”—he tilted his head with a wry smirk—“suggesting that we all come together might sound heroic, but it’s just like telling us Alphas to give up our autonomy, and that's not the way of our kind.”Thane’s eyes flared, his patience strained. “This isn’t about anyone giving up his autonomy, Hijar! It’s about survival. About werewolves standing as one realm against a common enemy. Humans don’t care which banner we raise or which clan they attack first, they want us all gone.”Alpha Renosh raised a calming hand, his voice the most level among them. “I understand you, Thane. I truly do. But I also understand
The warm, amber glow of crystal lanterns hung from the high arched ceiling of the Great Hall, casting soft light over the polished timber walls and intricately patterned stone floor. The space was grand yet refined, a testament to Lunarville's blend of tradition and progress. The long council table, carved from a single ancient tree, stretched the length of the hall, surrounded by high-backed chairs marked with the sigils of each clan.Seven Alphas sat in their respective seats, their faces drawn with the gravity of the moment. Though the Great Hall buzzed faintly with the low hum of energy panels lining the edges—hidden cleverly behind natural textures—the air was heavy with silence. Tension rippled beneath the surface.At the head sat Alpha Thane, his expression as resolute as the blade of a warrior who has seen too many battles. His eyes swept the room before settling briefly on the youngest Alpha among them.“I want to acknowledge Alpha Cormac of Ravenhurst,” he began, his voice e
The boardroom was quiet, lit by the soft afternoon glow filtering through the tall glass windows that lined one side of the room. The city skyline framed the background in still motion. Justine stood by the windows, one hand in his pocket, the other loosely holding a glass of water he hadn’t touched.He heard the door open behind him.“Commander,” he said without turning.“Yes, sir,” came Harris’s voice, steady but laced with fatigue.Justine turned to face him. His expression wasn’t angry. It was more measured, and sounded even a little tired. “You’re back.”“I am,” Harris nodded.Justine looked him over, then quietly asked, “How many of your men made it back with you?”There was a pause.“Seven,” Harris replied. “Seven, out of eleven.”Justine’s gaze lingered on him. “I heard.”Harris gave a small nod, saying nothing.“What happened to the others?”“They… fell behind,” Harris said. He ran a hand across his brow. “Didn't run fast enough. Things got messy. If we’d stayed or waited for