Chapter 8. Expectations

Julian’s POV

The morning sun barely pierced the heavy curtains of the council chamber, but its weak rays still cast enough light to reveal the furrowed brows and somber faces of the elders. I sat at the head of the long oak table, keeping my expression neutral as their voices rose in urgency.

“Alpha Julian, this is not the time for hesitation,” Elder Marcus said, his tone sharp. “The Bloodmoon Pack is in disarray, and this is an opportunity we cannot squander. Dylan’s supporters are scattered. If we strike now, the Midnight Pack can claim dominance over their territory.”

My fingers tapped softly against the polished wood, a rhythm that betrayed my growing irritation. I looked around the room, meeting the eyes of each elder in turn. They were seasoned wolves, each with decades of experience, but their singular focus on power made them blind to everything else.

“Our Pack is strong,” I began, my voice calm but firm. “We thrive because we’ve maintained sta