Michael’s POV
All eyes turned to me.
I swept my gaze around the table one last time before opening the dossier Xero had prepared this afternoon.
"We’ll begin with the legislature."
Silence settled over the room.
"How many Senate seats do our people hold at present?"
A silver-haired Alpha seated three places to my left answered without hesitation. "Thirty."
I closed the file. "Not enough."
Several heads dipped in agreement.
"The Senate has one hundred seats. We should control at least half."
No one challenged the assessment.
The Senate remained one of the country’s most powerful institutions. Major appointments, treaties, and confirmations all passed through it. With only thirty seats, too much remained uncertain.
I tapped the dossier with one finger. "We have two years before the next election cycle. That gives us enough time to move deliberately, not enough time to hesitate."
My gaze moved from one face to the next. "Identify suitable candidates now. Recruit them, finance them, and make certain they win."
"We understand," someone said.
"The target is fifty."
Agreement moved around the table in a low chorus.
I turned the page. "The House of Representatives."
Another Alpha answered at once. "We hold two hundred out of four hundred and thirty-five."
I considered the figure briefly. "Better, but still insufficient. By the next congressional term, the remaining thirty-five seats must be ours."
No one questioned the order.
Unlike the Senate, the House offered more frequent opportunities. Local districts shifted quickly, and influence could be built one race at a time. Thirty-five additional seats was ambitious, but not impossible.
"We’ll begin identifying competitive districts immediately," one of the regional coordinators said.
"Do so."
Alaric leaned forward slightly. "I’d like to revisit the Senate."
I gave him a nod.
"The current Vice President remains Human," he said calmly. Every person present understood the implication. "As President of the Senate, he continues to influence legislation tied to our long-term interests."
"The President is Human as well," Alaric continued. "If the next administration keeps the same ticket, we lose another four years."
I folded my hands together. "The President still has one term left before he reaches his constitutional limit. We will not oppose his reelection."
Surprise flickered around the table.
"We support the President," Alaric said, his eyes meeting mine. "But his running mate changes."
I nodded once. "The current Vice President will not remain on the ticket."
One of the older Alphas frowned. "And if he refuses to step aside?"
"Then the President will replace him."
Another Alpha asked quietly, "And if the President refuses?"
"He won’t." Confidence, when supported by preparation, needed little explanation. "Pressure can be applied from several directions."
No further questions followed. Everyone in the room understood the meaning behind the answer. Political influence rarely depended on public speeches alone. There were quieter tools for that kind of work.
Financial leverage. Media narratives. Donor networks. Private negotiations.
Every election was decided long before the first vote was cast.
I continued. "Our objective remains unchanged. For now, the presidency stays in Human hands."
That surprised several of the newer attendees. One finally asked, "Would it not be more efficient for one of our own to seek the presidency?"
"It would," I said. "But it would also attract unnecessary attention. The Vice President, by contrast, serves as the constitutional successor to the President."
Several members nodded as the significance settled over the table.
"If unforeseen circumstances prevent the President from completing his term," I continued, "succession occurs automatically."
No one needed me to elaborate. The office carried strategic value far beyond its public perception.
With that settled, the discussion shifted to the executive branch. Another report was placed before me.
"Our representation in the Cabinet remains satisfactory," the presenter said. "Twelve of the fifteen executive departments are under direct influence. The remaining three continue to cooperate through established channels."
I gave a slight nod. "Maintain those relationships. Quiet cooperation is often more useful than open control."
No further discussion was necessary, so I turned to the next page to the Judiciary. "How many do we have on the Supreme Court?" I asked.
"Six," came the answer.
I looked up. "Six?"
The Alpha responsible for judicial affairs nodded. "Six of the nine Associate Justices."
"Good. Our immediate objective is straightforward." I closed the folder in front of me. "The next Chief Justice must be one of ours."
Every person present acknowledged the instruction. Judicial appointments shaped decades of national policy. One appointment could influence generations.
An Alpha, seated near the end of the table, spoke, "Government alone won’t be enough. We also need to strengthen our influence in the private sector. Finance, technology, healthcare, education, media—every industry matters."
I gave a slight nod. "Maintain your ground. Expand where opportunities present themselves, and don’t lose the positions you’ve already secured."
The Alpha inclined his head. "I understand."
I glanced at the time. We had already spent nearly two hours. "We’ve covered enough for today. The remaining sectors will be discussed at our next meeting."
Several members reached for their files. But before anyone could leave, the conference doors opened.
Every head in the room turned toward the entrance.
A man dressed in black formal attire stepped inside. He walked to the centre of the room before bowing respectfully.
"The Alpha King’s messenger greets the Council."
No one responded, so he straightened and held up a sealed document. "I have come on His Majesty’s orders."
The atmosphere shifted immediately.
Without wasting another second, he broke the seal and began reading. "Due to the steady decline in our population, His Majesty has issued the following decree."
No one interrupted him.
"Every Primogen is hereby ordered to secure a suitable mate within one year. If a fated mate cannot be found, a binding union shall instead be formed with a human woman from a powerful and influential family."
The room fell into stunned silence. Several Alphas exchanged puzzled looks, while others frowned.
The messenger continued, his voice steady. "Each Primogen is expected to produce an heir within two years."
He lowered the document briefly, then delivered the final command. "Failure to comply will result in the loss of title, rank, and succession rights. His Majesty will appoint new Primogens in their place."
Not a single voice broke the silence. The decree was short, direct, and impossible to misunderstand.
When the messenger lowered the scroll, his eyes settled on me.
"Alpha Lucien." He bowed, then he turned toward Alaric and bowed again. "Alpha Alaric."
This time, the reaction around the table was impossible to miss. Several Alphas looked between us in open surprise. A few seemed ready to ask questions, but none dared speak.
"My duty is complete." The messenger bowed once more. Without waiting for permission, he turned and left the conference room.
The doors closed quietly behind him.
For several moments, no one moved. Then, Alaric leaned slightly toward me. "So... the old man finally lost his patience."
I kept my eyes on the closed doors. "It would seem so."
He let out a slow breath. "Do you think he will actually strip the Primogens of their titles?"
"I do not intend to find out."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I was afraid you would say that."
I closed the folder in front of me and looked around the room. Surprise still lingered on many faces. Whether they were struggling to understand the decree or the identities that had just been revealed, I neither knew nor particularly cared.
Most of them had only heard the word Primogen. Very few had ever met one.
There were only seven Primogens in the world, each born into one of the seven ancient bloodlines that stood above every other werewolf lineage.
We were not chosen by election, nor did we inherit our positions simply because we desired them. We were born into responsibilities that had existed long before any of us came into this world.
Even among Alphas, a Primogen was not simply a title. It was a bloodline.
Every decision we made had the power to influence the future of our race. Therefore, on matters concerning our survival, the Alpha King consulted only the Primogens.
The decree was meant for all seven of us, including the five who were absent. Their absence did not lessen its force; it only made the consequences impossible to ignore.
"This meeting is over." I rose. "You have your orders."
No one objected.
I swept my gaze around the table one last time. "Now get to work."