Chapter 52
Werewolf Realm
Red Moon Pack
Levi's POV
By the time we returned to Red Moon Pack, King Johnson's warning still echoed in my head—Roosevelt won't sit quietly after this.
So the moment we stepped inside the pack walls, I sent messages to all eleven remaining alphas. I was the twelfth, but the responsibility of summoning them fell on me. And if even half of what happened at Silver Crest was true… then nobody had time to waste.
The next morning, all twelve of us gathered inside the council hall. The room was tense. Some alphas looked exhausted. Some looked worried. Some tried to look confident but their tightened jaws betrayed them.
The truth was simple:
Everyone was waiting for answers.
King Johnson entered with Alpha of Silver Crest walking behind him, bruised, pale, and moving like every step hurt. Yet his eyes were sharp.
King Johnson began immediately.
"I won't waste time. You all know why you're here."
No one spoke.
"The Silver Crest pack was attacked yesterday."
Gasps. Shocked faces. Several alphas jolted upright.
That information had not left the pack. For King Johnson to reveal it meant the situation was worse than any of them expected.
One alpha finally raised a trembling hand.
"How… how did they manage? Their alpha is here looking okay?"
Before he could finish, Silver Crest's Alpha barked a scoff.
"Look okay? Really? Do I look okay to you? I fought with everything I had. We all did. Don't let my posture fool you. Yesterday wasn't a battle—it was chaos. And though we survived… I fear that victory brought something far worse."
A ripple of uneasiness spread through the room.
Another alpha shot up, voice cracking.
"What do you mean you defeated them? You defeated demons?"
Almost instantly, the other alphas began shouting questions over one another:
"Was Roosevelt there?"
"How many demons came?"
"Does this mean the war is ending?"
"Are they finally dead?"
"What exactly happened?"
"Explain yourself!"
None of them gave Silver Crest's alpha a chance to answer.
The noise rose, unbearable.
Until I slammed my fist on the table so hard the wood cracked.
"Silence," I growled.
The room fell quiet immediately.
"You're all acting like impatient pups. Let him speak."
King Johnson nodded in approval and stepped forward again.
"Yes, I know you're shocked. But listen carefully. They did not defeat the demons alone."
He paused.
"They fought together—the wolves, elves, and vampires. Three races combined their strength and held the line."
One alpha let out a low whistle.
"That must have been a sight."
King Johnson's expression darkened.
"But it came at a cost. During the battle, two demons created a dark forge. A cursed construct that paralyzed warriors in wolf form. And the moment it touched them… their wolves died."
The entire room erupted.
"What?!"
"That's impossible!"
"A forge that kills the wolf spirit?"
"How can they lose their wolves just like that?"
King Johnson lifted a hand to silence them.
"Yes. They lost their wolves. And before you think you're safe—any pack could be next. Any one of you could wake tomorrow and find your strongest warriors wolfless."
Silence fell like a hammer.
"Roosevelt might attack with his dragon next." He looked around the table. "And none of us can survive dragon fire."
A cold chill ran down my spine. The others looked just as terrified.
King Johnson turned to Silver Crest's alpha with a frown.
"And worse… two of Roosevelt's strongest demons were killed."
Every alpha froze.
One finally whispered, "Two of his… strongest?"
"Yes," King Johnson answered. "Centuries ago, when Roosevelt fell—back when he was defeated and left with only his queen—five demons stayed loyal to him. Five he raised with his own power, trusted with his life."
He paused.
"Silver Crest's alpha with a vampire and an elf killed two."
A sharp inhale echoed from nearly everyone.
Another alpha asked, voice shaking,
"Does that mean Roosevelt will attack now? Out of rage?"
"It's very possible," King Johnson replied. "And if he uses the dragon… it will not be a tale with survivors."
Silence settled heavily.
Then King Johnson pulled out a small box and placed it on the table.
"About the plan to fake defeat—I am giving each of you these."
He opened the box, revealing dozens of small dark vials.
"If the battlefield becomes too much, collapse and drink it. It will slow your heart and mimic death for a short time. The demon fighting you will move on to another enemy… who will also fake death."
I exhaled slowly. It was risky… but better than truly dying.
He continued, "Had Silver Crest used this tactic, Roosevelt might not have been angered so quickly."
" Although this is partly my fault,if I had given him this dark vital before his pack was Attacked maybe things would have been different"
Silver Crest's Alpha looked down, jaw tightening.
"About Roosevelt's elite five," King Johnson went on, "they were with him for centuries. Now two are dead. That alone is enough reason for him to burn entire realms."
He scanned the table, meeting each alpha's eyes.
"If you see three demons together—run. Don't try to fight. If they catch you, fight with everything you have, because you will likely die."
Every alpha nodded grimly. Even the proudest did not argue.
Finally, King Johnson straightened.
"Prepare. More than ever before. Roosevelt will come in full force."
The meeting ended shortly after.
Each alpha left with dread heavy in their steps. Orders were sent. Warriors trained nonstop. Every pack strengthened barriers, prepared shelters, sharpened weapons.
Days passed.
Then weeks.
Then nearly a month.
No attack.
No demons.
No sign of Roosevelt.
Hope began creeping in—dangerous hope.
Perhaps he wouldn't attack.
Perhaps the delay meant he was reconsidering.
Perhaps the death of his demons weakened him.
And then…
On one cold night—
When the moon was a thin, pale sliver in the sky—
When the winds were unnaturally cold—
When the forest fell silent—
A sound echoed across the realm.
A howl.
Not from wolves.
Not from beasts.
Not from any living thing.
A howl of something ancient.
Something furious.
Something approaching.
The night shifted.
And every wolf instinct inside me whispered the same thing:
Roosevelt had finally come.