Elara blinked, her mind struggling to catch up. The room suddenly felt too quiet, too still. She looked from Ragnar to Lucien, then to the others standing nearby .... searching for a hint of laughter, a sign that this was some elaborate joke. None came. Her pulse began to race. "You… you are a werewolf?" she asked, her voice trembling despite her effort to steady it. "Like… an Alpha?" She had heard the terms before. Alpha. Beta. Omega. They belonged to stories, fantasy novels, myths whispered for entertainment .... not reality. Not this. Not here. Elara felt the ground tilt beneath her. "Everyone present here," Ragnar continued evenly, "apart from you, are werewolves. Some are Alphas, some Betas, some Omegas… and one true-blooded Alpha" his gaze shifted briefly to Lucien "....my son." The room spun. Elara took an unconscious step back, then another. Her breathing became shallow, uneven. "You aren't… making things up, right?" she said quickly, panic slipping into he
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