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The Pack Council
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2025-12-25 02:16:42The packhouse war room was dim except for the soft glow of the lamps on the table. A large map stretched across the oak table, marked with pins and colored lines representing patrol routes. The air was taut with focus, the kind that came only after nights like the last—when visions turned into warnings, and warnings became the promise of a storm.
Ben stood at the head of the table, shoulders squared, eyes sharp. His leadership had always been calm but edged with steel, and tonight it burned through every word he spoke.
“She said the girl is already here.” His voice dropped low, heavy with certainty. “That means it isn’t just a question of if. It’s when.”
Gunner leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the table. The weight of his presence filled the room—the King Alpha in all but title when he was away from his queen. His expression was unreadable, but his amber eyes glowed faintly, betraying the storm brewing benea
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W.I.L.D. Epilogue
The first thing she remembered was the sound.Not voices, not chains—just the low hum of the stone around her. The dungeon walls breathed. They moved, almost imperceptibly, like the heartbeat of something ancient and cruel. Every inhale filled her lungs with damp, iron-tinted air. Every exhale sent a sharp pain through the cracked ribs pressing against her bruised heart.She’d lost track of time long ago. Days bled into nights, nights into something worse. The torches burned with a greenish flame that never went out. Her wrists had forgotten what it felt like not to ache. Her tongue was dry, lips split, throat raw from screaming into the void that answered back with laughter.They wanted her to beg.She never did.When they came, they came quietly—robes whispering, boots echoing faintly against stone. Each one reeked of old blood and smoke, their eyes glinting with something inhuman. They didn’t call her by a
W.I.L.D. A New Dawn Within
The sun was barely spilling gold across the Blood Moon packlands, and Cheyenne was already halfway through her morning argument with Gunner.“I’m telling you, I can’t just sit around!” Cheyenne snapped, hands flailing in true Cheyenne fashion. “There’s too much to do! Pack inspections, patrol schedules, training games—what if something explodes while I’m lying on some stupid cabin bed?”Gunner stood solid as a mountain, arms crossed, his jaw tight but eyes soft, the weight of quiet authority in every line of his stance. “Chey,” he said slowly, letting the name roll off his tongue like a calming anchor, “you can’t do everything. You’re human enough to need rest, wolf enough to listen, and—trust me—you’re not going to explode if you stay in one place for an hour.”Cheyenne scowled, narrowing her eyes. “I’ll explode if I don’t
W.I.L.D. The Alpha Meeting
The great hall of the human’s community building was alive with sound—laughter, deep voices, and the faint hum of dominance rippling through the air like static before a storm. Every Alpha from all the territories had gathered at Cheyenne’s invitation. The long oak table stretched nearly the length of the hall, carved with sigils of every allied pack—symbols of loyalty, strength, and the uneasy peace Cheyenne had fought so hard to keep.She stood just behind Gunner’s chair, a quiet presence amid the rowdy energy of wolf leaders who didn’t know how to be still. Her gaze swept over them—Alpha Kade of Silverpine Pack, smug as ever; Alpha Rhys of Crimson Hollow, with his trademark smirk; Alpha Darin of Frostfang, who’d already started a bet on who would get into a growl-match first. It was chaos, barely leashed. But it was her kind of chaos.Well… usually.Gunner rapped his knuckles against the table. &
W.I.L.D. Whispers of the Veil
The healer’s hut was quiet except for the soft bubbling of the herb pot on the stove. The faint scent of sage and yarrow filled the air, curling around shelves lined with jars of dried roots and glowing vials. Moonlight filtered through the open window, painting everything silver.Elara sat at her worktable, staring down at the parchment notes she’d taken from Cheyenne’s last visit. They didn’t make sense — at least, not in any way that should have been possible.She rubbed at her temple, brow furrowing as she flipped another page. The readings of energy signatures, the pulse fluctuations, the flux in spiritual resonance—every metric was off. Not dangerously so, not yet, but enough to make the hairs rise along the back of her neck.It wasn’t sickness. It wasn’t fatigue.It was… something becoming.She’d seen oddities before — wolves whose spirits bonded twice, witc
W.I.L.D. The Healer’s Suspicion
Three days had passed since the training games, but the laughter that had filled the clearing that morning had long since dulled to an ache in Gunner’s chest.Cheyenne had brushed it off, of course. “I just overdid it,” she’d said, waving away his concern as she pulled her braid tighter. “You try sparring against a dragon with a fireball addiction and see if you don’t black out.”But Gunner wasn’t buying it.He’d felt it through their bond — the quiet thrum of fatigue that pulsed beneath her heartbeat. The flickers of nausea she tried to hide. The moments when her fire dimmed, then sputtered back to life. She didn’t even realize she was fading. He did. And it scared him.Now, sitting across from her at breakfast in the packhouse kitchen, he watched her pick at her toast like it was some kind of adversary. Her hair fell in soft waves, barely catching the morning light. Her eyes were sharp bu
W.I.L.D. The Training Games
The training grounds had never been this packed. Wolves filled the stands shoulder to shoulder, their murmurs rolling like distant thunder. Witches gathered in little clusters, their robes flashing in the sunlight with sigils and charms. Vampires leaned casually against the railings, pale and unimpressed, though their crimson eyes gleamed with interest. Phoenixes and dragons stood at the edges, wings tucked but eyes sharp, curiosity radiating from them.Everyone had come to see them.The Guardians and their mates stood on the wide dirt field, facing one another like opposing armies. Only this wasn’t war—it was a game. A show of strength, skill, and unity.Ben raised his hand, his grin wolfish. “Ladies, gentlemen, immortals, and smartasses—we give you the first-ever official Training Games.”The crowd roared with approval, but Tora snorted. “You make it sound like we’re about to break into song.”
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