"My liege, if you will give me another chance, I promise I'll change." The voice of an unknown man carries true across a big room.
The absent-minded wolf lord, checking his fingers, looked up and dubiously smiled at the man asking for a second chance. "Do you think your life is worth sparing?" His voice was cold and carried no emotions.
His eyes were endlessly dark as they were fixed solely on his subject.
The man's legs gave in as he succumbed to the ground. When he begged again, he did so desperately, with tears running down his face. "My liege, I have children, I have a wife! My liege, they won't survive without me. Pardon me, my liege," he kept muttering his plea.
The wolf lord, having had enough, descended from his throne and rushed with great inhuman speed at his subject, grabbed him by the throat, and lifted him.
His soulless eyes bored into the man's as he spoke, "You've gone wild, and we don't keep wild..." The wolf lord growled, and his voice became more deadly. His wolf teeth protruded, and his nails grew longer and sank into the man's neck.
The man whimpered and begged as his blood slowly flowed from his pierced neck.
"In a month, you killed and massacred 30 innocent humans; you have no justification for that. Death is your punishment," he sank his claws deeper into the man's neck, and more blood came pouring out.
The man tried to fight for his life by transforming into his wolf form, but the wolf lord had other plans, as he snapped his neck mid-transformation. He threw the man's lifeless body and walked out of the room with no remorse.
His strides were long, but his hands shook. Nobody can see me weak, he thought to himself. He clenched his hands by his side and kept walking.
"What are my other plans for the day, George?" he speaks to—
A small-sized man with a bald head came rushing to his side from nowhere. "You have to meet with your ranks to discuss the upcoming war," he replied in a respectful tone.
The wolf lord grunted.
As they kept walking, George noticed his Lord's hands as they shook. "My liege, your hands are ..." he was unable to finish his statement as he struck the wall that was his master's body.
The wolf lord turned to face George, who was panicking already. "You will not talk about this to anyone." His voice was laced with anger and a promise to dismember.
George gulped and swallowed. "I will not, my liege..." he took a step backward and bowed, then muttered under his breath.
The wolf lord snickered and continued his stride forward. "Don't you worry, George. I'll get me a mate who will calm my wicked side. For now... I'm going to my quarters. Let no one disturb me," he ordered and parted ways with George.
George looked on with worry and concern as his master made his way to his quarters. "He is becoming too volatile; he does need a mate soon."
*****
The war room is a chamber designed to house the rank leaders who often work together to coordinate and develop strategies, battle plans, and handle threats. It is located in the heart of the werewolves' realm (Maderial), hidden away from prying eyes and accessible to only the wolf lord, rank leaders, and trusted allies.
It is spacious enough to hold 100 werewolves in their full form. The walls are decorated with tapestries that depict ancient werewolf battles and legends. This serves as a reminder of their ancestry and valor. The walls also had different strategic maps that show the territory of the packs, neighboring regions, and potential threats or targets.
At the center of the room, a large rectangular table occupied the space. Surrounding the table are sturdy chairs built to take on the strength and size of a werewolf. The room was packed with 12 Alpha Wolves, their Betas, and Gammas. They all wore their pack's sigil on their chest. Some Omegas can be seen attending to the other wolves present.
Among themselves, they discussed and shared ideas they would like to move forward when their liege arrives. The fireplace crackles with an ever-burning fire, casting dancing shadows throughout the room.
"The Liege of the thirteen pack, Torrent Bane," an omega suddenly announced the presence of the wolf lord.
A hushed silence fell upon the room as Torrent stepped into the room, his presence commanding attention from every corner, and they all bowed.
Tall and dark, he exuded confidence and authority. Every trace of what he spent his morning doing disappeared.
Every movement was deliberate, every step measured, as if the weight of his influence ensured an ethereal grace to his stride.
When he was seated at the head chair, he waved his hands for his subjects to cease bowing. Rising as one, they all greeted, "My liege."
A subtle smile graced his handsome face. "Seat, my subjects." He watched on as they all took their seats before he spoke again.
"My father ruled the 13 packs for 30 years, and his reign was glorious and good," he tapped the table with his fingers till they became claws.
"I have ruled for 19 years, and it seems some people are not happy with my reign." His voice lost its warmth as his eyes moved from one alpha to another.
"There has been a high rate of insurgences, wolves going to the human realm and killing humans." He shook his head and ceased tapping the table, intertwined his fingers, set his elbows on the table, and leaned forward with his chin on his hands. "Gammas, share your ideas on what should be done."
What seemed like forever passed before a Gamma rose to speak, "My liege …" he bowed, cleared his throat, and continued, "There is only one possible solution: to weed out the rebels and seal the bridge to the human world." Murmurs went around the table.
"Does anyone have anything to add?" Everybody was quiet again.
Torrent watched them and wondered why nobody was saying anything. He was certain that he had heard them discussing before he came in; they were even sharing their ideas during the meeting.
Now, he was present, and they couldn't voice out their options; rather, they sat like they were dumb and could lose their tongue if they spoke.
This has been the case for the past 9 years, and he has actively led without mentorship.
They were still scared of me? Why can't they just forget that incident?
He looked at them with contempt, buttoned his suit, and walked out of the room in cold anger.
As he left the room, the men felt their breath come back into their lungs.