Chapter 41. Council War Drums

The Council Fortress was no longer a place of marble and quiet deliberation; it was a humming, pressurized war room. The empty spaces that had symbolized the Council’s decay were now filled with the frantic energy of strategists and grim-faced soldiers. High Alpha Kalen sat on the Throne of Judgment, but the hollow crown felt heavy, and the power he had seized was already slipping through his fingers.

His gaze was fixed on the tactical map spread across the chamber floor—a large, magically animated relief of the Lycan territories. Before, Neriah’s influence had been a faint smudge on the fringe; now, it was a rapidly metastasizing blight.

“Report!” Kalen snapped, his voice tight.

Thalia, dressed in a new uniform of dark steel and black leather, stood before the map, her composure the only still point in the chaos. She pointed to a section of the Western territories.

“The Bloodmoon Pack is officially compromised, Alpha. Beta Kael failed to secure the Traitor o