Beta Theon's shoulders, though squared with defiance, couldn't fully mask the tension coiling beneath his skin. He was outnumbered, outranked—and worst of all, he had dared to summon this meeting.
He glanced at the two conspicuously empty thrones sitting next to each other at the far end of the circle—Luna Reana's throne, carved from obsidian and etched with the Black Moon sigil – a blackened moon eclipsed by a clawed paw, three jagged scars slashing through its center.
Beside it sat Alpha Snow's throne, forged from red iron and bone, with a red wolf sigil.
The last empty throne, sitting in between two Alphas, belonged to Alpha Killian of the West Wood Pack, but since he was no longer an Alpha, his seat was vacant until the next Alpha was picked. Today.
However, no one cared about Beta Theon and Malric right now. All eyes were focused on Luna Reana's throne.
