Basileia City.
Far away from Blackwood Pack stood Basileia, the most powerful and oldest city in the werewolf world.
It was not just a city.
It was the heart of the entire werewolf and lycanthrope race.
Millions of werewolves and lycanthropes lived under different packs or territories, but when something affected the entire race, Basileia was where the strongest leaders gathered.
The city was filled with huge buildings, ancient castles, powerful companies, training grounds, and enormous meeting halls.
Alphas from different parts of the world came here for important meetings, especially when the matter concerned the safety of their race.
At the centre of Basileia stood the largest building in the city…
Called Basileia Castle.
The Alpha King’s Headquarters.
Inside was the Grand Council Hall.
Twenty of the most powerful Alphas sat around a long, beautiful table made from dark crystal.
Ten sat on each side, facing one another.
At the head of the hall stood a large empty throne.
It was made of black and silver crystal, decorated with silver wolf symbols.
A golden crown was placed on top of it.
Nobody dared to touch it or even come near it…
That throne belonged to the Alpha King.
The Werewolf King himself.
The ruler of every werewolf and lycanthrope under his authority.
An ordinary Alpha could rule one pack.
But the Alpha King was different.
He was the highest authority among the werewolves.
Even the strongest Alphas had to bow before him.
Yet for almost two hundred years, that throne had remained empty.
Alpha Michael was the first to speak.
He was the youngest of them all, only sixty years old, with sharp eyes and a quick temper.
“It is almost another century since we have held this meeting without the Werewolf King,” he said.
His voice echoed in the quiet hall.
The other Alphas turned their heads toward him.
Alpha Gabriel sighed and leaned back in his chair.
“So… what are you trying to say, Michael?”
Michael’s face darkened with anger.
He looked around at the others.
“Are we just going to keep quiet about the fact that werewolves have no leader to represent us in the Immortals Headquarters Council? We sit here year after year while other races speak for themselves. We have no voice!” He clenched his fists on the arm of his chair.
Gabriel raised one brow.
“They already know about the Supreme Werewolf King’s situation. What do you expect us to do?”
“Are you telling me we will do nothing?” Michael cut in.
Several Alphas shifted in their seats.
Curiosity and unease mixed in their eyes.
Silas, the oldest Alpha present, turned his calm gaze toward the man who sat near the empty throne.
That man was Ethan—Supreme Beta of the entire werewolf race, second-in-command to the missing King.
Ethan’s face stayed peaceful, almost bored.
He never reacted fast to anything.
Michael hated that about him.
“What do you think we should do about it?” Silas asked Ethan in a quiet voice.
Michael glanced at Ethan.
This was what he hated about the Supreme Beta.
Whether he was angry or pleased, his face always remained calm.
It made him difficult to read.
And that made him dangerous.
Michael took a deep breath.
“Let’s nominate another Werewolf King.”
Ethan’s eyes flashed golden for half a second.
Then they returned to normal.
“Rejected,” he said calmly.
He turned toward the others.
“Another prophecy has already been revealed concerning His Majesty.”
Michael’s face tightened.
“Excuse me, Supreme Beta, but you can’t just brush my idea aside like that.”
Ethan slowly raised an eyebrow.
“Or what?”
Michael’s mouth opened, but no words came out.
Gabriel stared at him in disbelief.
“You want us to remove His Majesty from the throne?”
The other Alphas looked at Michael as if he had just suggested something forbidden.
Michael scoffed.
“It has been two hundred years since the incident with the witches. Back then the world had no cars, no skyscrapers, no big companies. Yet even now, there are many huge companies under His Majesty’s name still run all around the werewolf headquarters and even outside it. How is that possible? I agree he is our greatest legend…. Well, let’s focus on the fact that he’s not here for us; it is becoming embarrassing for our race. We have no one to stand for us. I was not even born when the first prophecy about him appeared.”
Silas rubbed his forehead and sighed.
“That is because you are the youngest, Michael. You cannot understand how deep this goes.”
Michael opened his mouth to argue, then glanced at the red-haired Alpha sitting beside Gabriel.
Alpha Jeremiah looked away quickly.
Ethan spoke again, his voice still soft but now edged with steel.
“Wherever you got that idea from… do not speak it again. The next time you suggest removing His Majesty, I will take it as a direct challenge to the throne. And I will answer it.”
The quiet warning hung in the air.
No one even doubted; they knew he meant every word.
Jeremiah lifted his chin.
“Then how are we supposed to handle the demons who keep capturing our people as slaves? They grow bolder every month.”
Ethan let out a slow breath.
“I will go to the Immortals Council myself.”
“You cannot make any final decision without…”
“I did not say I would,” Ethan cut in.
His golden eyes locked on Jeremiah for a moment, then moved to Gabriel.
Then he smirked “His Majesty will rise again. That is what the new prophecy says.”