THE WEREWOLF REALMThe werewolf realm had changed.Since the Alpha Convention that brought the harrowing awareness of human threat, a fresh wind of urgency had swept across the seven clans. The air itself felt tenser, the ground more alert beneath padded feet. Patrols had doubled overnight. Sentries perched like shadows on rocky outcrops, along borderlines and forest trails, ears twitching at every rustle. Scouts ventured deeper into the woods, tracking unfamiliar scents and looking out for tire treads.Each clan had responded differently—yet all responded.In Andalonne, Alpha Billam had issued nightly drills. Warriors sparred with silver-colored wooden rods to prepare their reflexes for unnatural pain. Mothers trained their pups to recognize foreign smells—engine oil, exhaust, and metal. Children repeated warning chants before bedtime, reciting the color and shape of human vehicles drawn on scrolls and nailed to their doors.In Galenstar Alpha Renosh had overseen the erection of high
Beneath the towering spires of the Alphahold, where sweeping stone halls met the cold logic of strategy and rule, Lunarville's dungeon was a place of silence and discipline. It was a precision-forged vault of steel-paneled walls, reinforced containment rooms, and a faint metallic tang that lingered in the air like a warning.The two humans were bound with iron handcuffs that protruded from chains on the walls inside a sterile interrogation cell. Stark lighting from overhead strips revealed their injuries with brutal clarity. The room smelled faintly of rot, dirt and dampness.They had been held overnight with silence as their only company, and the knowledge that death was closer with every breath. Occasionally, they muttered to themselves or screamed out, but no one approached them; and although they'd rather die than admit it, hunger and thirst clawed at their insides.Towards noon the door clanged open and Thane walked in, looking quite calm in spite of himself. He wore a dark coat
Wayne's shoulders sagged. His voice cracked. “We came here with Commander Harris. We’re part of the JANEERAD Foundation.”Thane shot him a fierce look.“It stands for Jane and Eradication of Werewolves,” he added hastily under Thane's steady gaze.“And who runs this... foundation?” Thane asked, raising a brow.“Justine,” Wayne said. His lips were quivering now. “Justine Anderson.”“Is he some sort of military man?” Roan interjected suddenly, making Wayne jump in fright.“No, no...” he said, gesturing frantically. “He's not military—he’s private sector. But he’s funded by influential people in New York and beyond. He’s been planning this for years.”At the name JANEERAD, Thane’s eyes had narrowed slightly. But now as Wayne mentioned New York, something cold unfurled at the back of his mind. He’d seen that name before—but where?Then it hit him. During those moments of his desperate, solitary search for Lylah, he’d stumbled across a brochure with the name JANEERAD. It had been something
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
RAVENHURST CLANLylah gazed intently at the two figures standing in the centre of the pack as they exchanged their marriage vows. Akira and Zarek looked so happy and so much in love. Soon she would be required to say the vows as well and bond forever with Cormac, but the thought of that made her sad rather than happy.“Why so glum, Lylah?” Kaida asked, rousing her from her thoughts.Lylah turned to her friend, seated beside her on the low bench. Kaida’s eyes were twinkling under the full moon, and the colour of her flushed cheeks almost matched the redness of her hair.“She’s imagining how her own wedding day will be.” Odessa chimed in from Lylah’s other side.Lylah's voice turned pensive. "You tend to assume too much, Odessa. It would interest you to know that unlike you, I don't engage myself in petty imaginations all day." Odessa didn't appear ruffled by Lylah's remarks, instead, she pressed on. “Well, whether you're actually imagining it or not, one thing is certain: your own wed
The cheers from the ceremony continued behind Lylah, fading into the distance as she strode angrily towards Cormac. His silhouette stood tall and authoritative under the giant tree, his hands in his pocket. Lylah hated that view. She didn’t ask for this. She didn’t ask to be promised as bride to the Alpha’s son, her heart was already with someone else, someone very far away, who probably thought of her every day, just as she did of him. But her parents had already made the arrangements, and she had no choice but to go along obediently with it.Cormac began speaking as soon as she reached him, without looking at her.“I’m going for a run tonight, I want you to join me.”“This night?” Lylah asked, bewildered.“You heard me.”She contemplated for a moment before speaking again.“But you know this night is reserved for the new moonbound mates. Other wolves aren’t supposed to be running on this designated night of the full moon vow.”“It won’t matter.” Cormac said, his long brown hair dang
The sun was almost high in the sky when Lylah got home. She went straight to her room and locked the door behind her, not bothering to wash off the mud stains on her arms and feet or speak to anyone.She took off her clothes and regarded herself in the mirror. The beauty that she was stared back at her. Her rich, black hair fell in curls around her shoulder, framing her face warmly.She picked out a few leaf particles from her hair and stared at them, memories of her run with Cormac flooding through her mind. The experience had defied her expectations; Cormac’s demeanour had been surprisingly gentle, stopping to let her catch her breath and inquiring about her well-being. His actions contradicted the cold, harsh attitude he’d displayed during the wedding.Lylah’s conviction grew – Cormac must have been deceiving her earlier. Before their parents arranged the match, four other suitors had openly declared their intentions. She knew many men desired her, so Cormac’s behaviour seemed susp
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
Wayne's shoulders sagged. His voice cracked. “We came here with Commander Harris. We’re part of the JANEERAD Foundation.”Thane shot him a fierce look.“It stands for Jane and Eradication of Werewolves,” he added hastily under Thane's steady gaze.“And who runs this... foundation?” Thane asked, raising a brow.“Justine,” Wayne said. His lips were quivering now. “Justine Anderson.”“Is he some sort of military man?” Roan interjected suddenly, making Wayne jump in fright.“No, no...” he said, gesturing frantically. “He's not military—he’s private sector. But he’s funded by influential people in New York and beyond. He’s been planning this for years.”At the name JANEERAD, Thane’s eyes had narrowed slightly. But now as Wayne mentioned New York, something cold unfurled at the back of his mind. He’d seen that name before—but where?Then it hit him. During those moments of his desperate, solitary search for Lylah, he’d stumbled across a brochure with the name JANEERAD. It had been something
Beneath the towering spires of the Alphahold, where sweeping stone halls met the cold logic of strategy and rule, Lunarville's dungeon was a place of silence and discipline. It was a precision-forged vault of steel-paneled walls, reinforced containment rooms, and a faint metallic tang that lingered in the air like a warning.The two humans were bound with iron handcuffs that protruded from chains on the walls inside a sterile interrogation cell. Stark lighting from overhead strips revealed their injuries with brutal clarity. The room smelled faintly of rot, dirt and dampness.They had been held overnight with silence as their only company, and the knowledge that death was closer with every breath. Occasionally, they muttered to themselves or screamed out, but no one approached them; and although they'd rather die than admit it, hunger and thirst clawed at their insides.Towards noon the door clanged open and Thane walked in, looking quite calm in spite of himself. He wore a dark coat
THE WEREWOLF REALMThe werewolf realm had changed.Since the Alpha Convention that brought the harrowing awareness of human threat, a fresh wind of urgency had swept across the seven clans. The air itself felt tenser, the ground more alert beneath padded feet. Patrols had doubled overnight. Sentries perched like shadows on rocky outcrops, along borderlines and forest trails, ears twitching at every rustle. Scouts ventured deeper into the woods, tracking unfamiliar scents and looking out for tire treads.Each clan had responded differently—yet all responded.In Andalonne, Alpha Billam had issued nightly drills. Warriors sparred with silver-colored wooden rods to prepare their reflexes for unnatural pain. Mothers trained their pups to recognize foreign smells—engine oil, exhaust, and metal. Children repeated warning chants before bedtime, reciting the color and shape of human vehicles drawn on scrolls and nailed to their doors.In Galenstar Alpha Renosh had overseen the erection of high
Justine’s office was quiet and still as Lylah slid the door sideways and entered without knocking—her presence a shadow cast against the doorframe.Justine didn't look up as the door slid open. “I told my secretary I didn't want to be disturbed,” he said, an unmistakable annoyance in his voice. “Well...” Lylah started. “I let myself in, she isn't there. She left to use the restroom.”Justine looked up at her, his brows twitching with irritation. “Lylah, I’m not in the mood for one of your performances today.”She stepped forward. “This isn’t a performance. I came to ask you—beg you, if I must—to call off the mission, please.”Justine stood, his movements sharp and swift. “Well I won't, Lylah. And even if I wanted to, it's already too late. Commander Harris already led them out for the first phase yesterday morning.”Lylah froze. “Yesterday?”He moved past her and strode briskly out of his office toward the stairwell. She followed, nearly stumbling after him. “You sent them out alrea
Two days had passed since the rupture in Kael's room, and Angela still felt the sting of his cold retreat. His words - curt, defensive, and final - had left a hollow ache that even sleep couldn’t soothe. She’d replayed the moment too many times to count, wishing she’d said more, a little bit more to try and being him round to see things from a different perspective.The morning atmosphere outside was hushed, the sky a soft gray, heavy with unfallen rain. Angela moved quietly through the residence wing of the mansion, her echoing softly off the gleaming tiles. Angela reached Lylah’s door and knocked gently. No answer. She gripped the handle and gave it a gentle tug. Surprisingly, it turned and the door opened. She held it a bit open, and slowly and peeked in.The room was dim, the curtains drawn, letting in slivers of pale light. Lylah lay curled on her side atop the large canopy bed, the sheets tangled around her legs. She looked smaller somehow, not in size, but in spirit—like somet
The corridor was quiet, the late evening hush settling over the facility like a soft veil. Overhead, the fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, casting a gentle glow on the polished floor. Angela stood outside Kael's door, her knuckles poised to knock again. She had already tapped twice, each time with growing hesitation.She wore a light olive-green sweater, the sleeves pushed up to her elbows, and a pair of black jeans that hugged her frame. Her red hair, vibrant and unruly as always, was pulled into a loose ponytail that cascaded down one shoulder. A small backpack hung off one shoulder, her thumb hooked into its strap. Her expression was pensive, almost shy — the kind of look that hinted at unspoken words.Still no answer. Her hand dropped. She turned to leave.Then — footsteps.Angela paused and turned just in time to see Kael striding down the hallway toward her. His face broke into a smile the moment he saw her, the stormy weariness in his eyes giving way to something lighter, warm
Kael trailed behind Justine, his eyes fixed on the broad shoulders and the tense posture that seemed to radiate an aura of irritation. They walked down the hallway, the soft hum of conversation from the other offices fading into the background as they approached Justine's office. The door swung open, and Justine strode in, his movements economical and controlled. Kael followed, his heart sinking as he anticipated the confrontation that was to come.Justine settled behind his desk, his face a mask of displeasure. "Close the door behind you," he said, his voice low and even, but with an undercurrent of annoyance.Kael pushed the door shut, the soft click of the latch echoing through the room. He took a seat in one of the chairs facing Justine's desk, his eyes on the desk, avoiding Justine's.Justine looked at him calculatively for a while, then asked, "What was that about?" His voice was tight, controlled, but the anger simmering beneath the surface was palpable. Kael shifted uncomfort