The royal packhouse stood as a fortress of power, its marble halls gleaming under the midday sun as Jackson prepared for the council meeting, his heart still alight from the fiery morning with Lilith. She, meanwhile, was in their quarters, packing for their week-long retreat to the cabin—a private haven to seal their mate bond after the meeting. The bond pulsed with her excitement, a steady hum that grounded him as he donned a tailored black suit, his alpha aura radiating resolve. The Crescent Ball’s ambush had set the kingdom on edge, and today’s council would rally the twelve packs against the vampire threat.
The council chamber was a vast, circular hall, its domed ceiling painted with lunar cycles, a massive oak table at its center ringed by twelve alpha thrones. Each alpha sat poised,
