– COUNCIL-
The grand doors to the council chamber swung open, revealing a circular room with high ceilings adorned with tapestries depicting the history of shifters. The King sat at the head of the room, his regal presence commanding respect without a word. Around him, the council members sat in curved rows, their faces a mixture of curiosity, respect, and awe as the team entered.
Freya, Tobias, Daemon and the others walked in, their steps measured but purposeful. The King’s piercing eyes landed on Freya and Daemon, flickering briefly with an emotion none could read.
“Welcome,” the King said, his deep voice resonating in the chamber. “Please, sit. You’ve had a long journey.”
The council members murmured amongst themselves, but none interrupted. As the team settled, one of the older councilmen leaned forward. “Are you hungry? Refreshments can be brought in while we talk if that’s agreeable.”
Daemon nodded, his voice calm but firm. “We would appreciate that. Thank you.”
Another councilman frowned, glancing at the six teenagers. “The six youngsters there” He pointed at the youngest boys, “They’re young and should perhaps retire to quarters. They can be briefed later.”
“They are part of our team. They stay.” Daemon said, his tone leaving no room for argument. His brown eyes, flashing black, met the King’s, a challenge unspoken.
The King inclined his head, silencing any further objections. “They stay.”
The youngsters sat straighter, their expressions a mixture of pride and nervousness. Sean, sitting beside Finn, gave a subtle grin as Finn nudged him.
A councilwoman, her eyes sharp and calculating, leaned forward. “We’ve heard there are two white wolves among you. If it’s not too much to ask… may we see them? In their wolf forms?”
The room fell into hushed anticipation. Freya exchanged a look with Daemon, who gave a small nod. Standing, the two moved to the centre of the room. Tobias and Helena instinctively flanked them, shielding them as they began removing their clothes. The council murmured quietly, but none objected.
The air shimmered with power as Freya and Daemon shifted. Their wolves emerged, glowing with an almost ethereal light. Freya’s white wolf, her lavender eyes gleaming with intelligence and power, stood proudly beside Daemon’s equally majestic form. The room was silent, the council staring in awe at the rare sight before them.
One of the councilmen whispered, “Magnificent…”
Freya and Daemon shifted back, the air heavy with reverence. Tobias and Helena shielded them as they dressed, then moved aside as the two returned to their seats.
“Enough,” Tobias said gruffly, breaking the stunned silence. “Let’s discuss how to stop this madness.”
The King’s gaze lingered on Daemon and Freya, a flicker of recognition crossing his face. “Yes,” he said quietly. “Let us begin.”
A councilman cleared his throat, addressing the room. “Magnus and Rowen have joined forces. Together, they have the strength to challenge both the council and the King. Their alliance is one of opportunity, not trust, but it is dangerous nonetheless.”
Liam’s brow furrowed as he watched one of the councilmen—a younger one, seated near the edge. Something about his body language seemed… off. Liam’s gift stirred, a tingling certainty in his gut. He leaned forward, his voice cutting through the discussion. “Are you loyal to the King?”
The councilman flinched, his eyes darting toward Liam. “Of course I am,” he stammered.
Liam’s voice was quiet but firm. “Liar.”
Gasps rippled through the chamber as the accused councilman stood, his face pale. “How dare you—”
“Enough,” Freya said, standing abruptly. Her hazel eyes swept the room. “Liam has a gift. He knows when someone is lying. If he says you’re lying, you are.”
The King, without hesitation, motioned to the guards at the door. “Take him.”
The councilman protested, his voice rising in panic, but the guards seized him and escorted him out. The tension in the room was palpable, the council now eyeing each other with suspicion.
Freya sat down slowly, her composure unshaken. “Let’s continue.”
Omegas entered, bringing trays of food and drink. The group ate quietly as plans were laid out. The council explained the need to rally loyal packs, strengthen defenses, and prepare for the inevitable confrontation. Freya listened intently, her mind racing with the implications.
As the meeting continued, the King’s gaze kept drifting back to Freya and Daemon. He looked to be in deep thought.
– ALARIC-
In the quiet sanctuary of Alaric’s quarters, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to the tension that filled the council chamber. The room was modest yet elegant, befitting his rank on the council. A large stone fireplace crackled softly in the corner, its glow casting warm light across the polished wooden floors and simple furnishings. The faint scent of pine lingered in the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the fire.
Mira stood by the window, her gaze fixed on the sprawling gardens below. The moonlight painted her face in silvery hues, accentuating her thoughtful expression. She had always been sharp and observant, but today there was a softness in her that Alaric couldn’t ignore.
“You’re quiet,” he said gently, stepping closer. His voice was calm, but his piercing blue eyes betrayed his curiosity. “I’ve already learned that’s unusual for you.”
Mira turned to face him, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I’m just… trying to take it all in,” she admitted. “This place, the council, the King. It’s all so different from what I imagined.”
Alaric crossed the room in a few strides, his presence both steadying and electrifying. “You belong here,” he said firmly. “You’re more than ready for this.”
Her gaze softened as she looked up at him. “You sound so sure.”
“I am,” Alaric replied, his tone unwavering. “You’ve proven yourself a hundred times over even in the short time I’ve known you. And now, more than ever, we need people like you.”
Mira’s heart swelled at his words, but there was still a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “It’s not just the council or the King,” she said quietly. “It’s us.”
Alaric’s expression shifted, a rare vulnerability crossing his face. “Us,” he echoed, stepping closer until only inches separated them. His hand lifted hesitantly, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “Mira, I’ve waited a long time for something, someone, like this. Like you.”
Her breath caught as his words sank in, her wolf stirring within her. She had always been fiercely independent, reluctant to let anyone in. But Alaric’s presence, his unwavering support, had already begun to chip away at the walls she had built around herself.
“Alaric,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.
He didn’t wait for her to say more. Slowly, as though giving her time to pull away, he leaned down, his lips brushing against hers. The kiss was tentative at first, a gentle exploration, but it deepened as Mira’s hands found their way to his shoulders. The connection between them flared, undeniable and powerful.
When they finally broke apart, both were breathless. Alaric rested his forehead against hers, his hands cradling her face. “You’re mine,” he said softly, his voice filled with reverence. “And I’m yours.”
Mira smiled, her doubts melting away. “Then let’s not waste another second,” she said, her tone resolute.
Alaric pulled her into his arms, holding her as though she were the only thing keeping him grounded. In that moment, the weight of the prophecy, the war, and the challenges ahead seemed to fade into the background. All that mattered was the bond they had found and the strength it would give them for whatever lay ahead.
– ALEX-
The grand hallways of the palace stretched endlessly, the faint sound of footsteps echoing as the royal steward led the group to their assigned quarters. The intricate tapestries on the walls, depicting centuries of wolfkind’s history, went unnoticed by Alex as he trailed behind the others, his thoughts weighed down by the meeting and everything they had left behind.
When they arrived at the quarters, the steward bowed slightly and departed, leaving the team in a spacious common area with separate doors leading to private rooms. Alex hesitated at the edge of the group, his unease growing as the others began discussing the next day’s plans.
Liam noticed Alex lingering by the door and excused himself from the conversation. He approached the young wolf, his steps quiet but purposeful. “Alex,” he called gently, stopping a few feet away. “Everything okay?”
Alex startled slightly but quickly nodded. “Yeah, just… tired,” he said, avoiding Liam’s gaze.
Liam’s brow furrowed, and his gift stirred—a subtle but unmistakable sense that Alex wasn’t being truthful. “Alex,” he said firmly but kindly. “What’s really going on?”
Alex’s shoulders tensed, and for a moment, he looked like he might bolt. But when Liam crossed his arms and waited patiently, the young wolf sighed and sank into one of the plush chairs by the wall. “I’m just… worried,” Alex admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “About my family back home. What if the Alpha finds out I left? What if he takes it out on them?”
Liam nodded slowly, pulling a chair closer and sitting down. “That’s a fair concern,” he said. “But do you really think staying would have made things better for them? You’d be under the Alpha’s thumb, unable to protect them at all.”
Alex hesitated, his throat tightening. “Maybe. But at least I’d know what was happening to them.”
“Or you’d be trapped, powerless to do anything,” a deep voice said from behind them. Both wolves turned to see Daemon leaning casually against the wall, his dark eyes sharp but not unkind. He crossed the room in a few strides, pulling up a chair beside them.
“Listen,” Daemon said, his tone low and firm. “I get it. You’re scared for your family. That’s not weakness—it’s loyalty. But you’re here now. You’re part of this team, and that means something. If we succeed, you’ll be able to protect them in ways you never could before.”
Alex looked down at his hands, his voice trembling. “But what if I mess up? What if I let everyone down?”
“You won’t,” Liam said, his tone steady. “Because you’re not alone in this. We’re all in it together.”
Daemon leaned forward, his gaze intense. “Freya chose you. Tobias trusts you. If you weren’t strong enough, you wouldn’t be here. But you are. So stop doubting yourself and focus on what’s ahead.”
Alex’s chest tightened, but the fear gripping him began to loosen. He looked between Liam and Daemon, their confidence in him steady and unwavering. “I just… don’t want to fail,” he said quietly.
“You won’t,” Daemon said, clapping a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Because we’ve got your back. And when the time comes, you’ll be ready.”
Alex managed a small smile, a flicker of determination returning to his eyes. “Thanks,” he said, his voice stronger now. “I’ll do my best.”
“Good,” Liam said with a nod. “Because we’re counting on you.”
The three stood, the tension easing as they rejoined the group. Freya glanced over, her gaze softening as she noticed Alex looking more relaxed. Tobias, standing nearby, gave Alex an approving nod, his wolf quietly assessing the younger wolf’s resolve.
The palace quarters felt a little less overwhelming now, and as the team settled in for the night, Alex felt the weight on his shoulders lift slightly. He still worried for his family, but he knew he wasn’t alone—and that made all the difference.
– KING-
The King’s quarters were a stark contrast to the grandeur of the palace. Simple yet elegant, the room was lit by the warm glow of a single lantern on the carved mahogany desk. Outside the tall arched windows, the moon hung heavy in the sky, its silvery light casting long shadows across the polished stone floor.
Seated in a high-backed chair, the King stared at the tapestry hanging on the wall before him. It was an ancient depiction of a battle long past, wolves of every colour fighting beneath the watchful eye of a massive white wolf flanked by a dark wolf. It was a piece he had commissioned years ago, though he never spoke of why.
His hand moved absently to the silver ring on his finger, his thumb tracing its intricate design. It bore a crescent moon and a set of twin wolves etched delicately into the metal. He had worn it every day since he had taken the throne, though few knew its significance.
Freya and Daemon. The names echoed in his mind, stirring something deep within him. He had seen their eyes—Freya’s striking lavender wolf gaze, and Daemon’s piercing black. There was no mistaking it. They carried the bloodline.
The bloodline of his sister.
A faint smile touched his lips, though it was tinged with sorrow. “Selena,” he murmured under his breath, the name heavy with memory. He hadn’t spoken it aloud in decades, and the sound of it in the quiet room felt both foreign and familiar.
The prophecy weighed heavily on him now. Two white wolves. A dark wolf. Renewal or ruin. He closed his eyes, the whispers of the past mingling with the warnings of the present. It had always seemed so distant, a tale passed down through generations. But now, it was unfolding before his eyes.
Freya’s presence unnerved him. She was powerful—he could feel it, even beyond her wolf form. She carried something ancient, something that could either save or destroy them all. Daemon, too, bore that same energy, though it was wilder, less tempered. Together, they were the future… if they could survive what was coming.
The King’s hand tightened around the armrest of his chair. He had seen the signs, felt the shift in the winds. Rowen Shadowclaw, Magnus, the fractured loyalties among the packs—it was all building toward something. And at the centre of it all stood Freya and Daemon.
He rose slowly, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the room. He moved to the window, his golden eyes reflecting the moonlight as he gazed out at the darkened palace grounds. “They don’t know,” he said softly, his voice carrying a weight of responsibility. “Not yet.”
He turned away, his gaze falling on the tapestry once more. The wolves of old seemed to watch him, their embroidered eyes unblinking. The King exhaled deeply, his shoulders straightening. “But they will. When the time is right.”
For now, he would let them lead, as their instincts guided them. But soon, the truth would come to light, and with it, the choices that would shape the future of all shifters. The King’s gaze lingered on the tapestry a moment longer before he extinguished the lantern, leaving the room bathed in moonlight.
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