VINCENT
The council chamber feels like a tomb as I push through the heavy oak doors. Carved stone wolves line the walls, their eyes seeming to follow my every step as I make my way toward the center of the room. The scent of old leather and power hangs thick in the air—generations of Alpha decisions made within these walls.
Five elders sit in their traditional semicircle, each one a former Alpha or high-ranking Beta from packs across the western territories. Their faces are stern, weathered by decades of leadership and rigid adherence to our laws. At the center sits Elder Owen, his gray hair pulled back severely, dark eyes sharp as flint.
"Vincent." His voice echoes off the stone walls. "You called this emergency session. Speak."
I straighten my shoulders, drawing on every ounce of Alp
