Chapter 58
The Werewolf Realm
The three demons arrived at the Werewolf Realm in silence, hiding themselves exactly as Roosevelt had ordered. Minutes passed… long, tense minutes.
Then they heard it.
The familiar thunder of wings cutting through the air.
Shadow Scale.
Jyra's eyes flickered sharply.
"He's here."
The three demons nodded and stepped out from their hiding spot.
Shadow Scale descended like a king claiming his throne. The dragon's massive wings shook the trees as Roosevelt climbed down from its back. His cold gaze swept across his demons.
"How many packs do they have?" he asked.
Daksha bowed slightly.
"They have twelve packs in total, my Lord."
Roosevelt smiled—a dark, cruel smile.
"Oh, great. Then we're burning eleven."
He turned to Jyra.
"You said this pack is far from the Red Moon Pack, correct?"
"Yes, my Lord," she replied. "It is far."
Roosevelt nodded. "Good. Let's begin. You three, get on Shadow Scale's back. I can't afford to burn my three favorite demons."
Jyra chuckled lightly.
"Yes, my Lord."
They mounted the dragon.
Without waiting for orders, Shadow Scale unleashed a torrent of flames. Houses vanished in seconds. Walls melted. Cars parked neatly along the roads turned into twisted metal. Flames devoured everything—structures, memories, history. The once-thriving pack was reduced to a barren wasteland.
They moved to the second pack. Burned it to ash.
The third. Reduced to nothing.
The fourth. Gone.
The fifth.
Sixth.
Seventh.
On and on, until they reached the eleventh pack.
Daksha wiped sweat from his brow, exhausted from the heat radiating off Shadow Scale's endless fire.
"Finally… the last one."
This last pack was closest to Levi's pack, which was why Roosevelt had saved it for last.
Shadow Scale turned the land to a scorched graveyard. Every home, every building, every memory—obliterated.
Then Roosevelt gave the final message.
With Shadow Scale's fire, they seared blazing words across the ground:
"Gird your swords. The flames coming for you will be unbearable."
And with that, Roosevelt and his demons vanished into the sky.
---
Red Moon Pack
The alarm bell rang through the entire territory, echoing across buildings and streets. Every member—every race—gathered at the central grounds. Only the Goldrens were absent, already in their own stronghold.
Levi was still too exhausted to stand before everyone, so King Johnson addressed the crowd.
"I know you're wondering why everyone was called," the king began, his voice heavy. "Something terrible has happened. We received a report—Roosevelt burned eleven werewolf packs to the ground."
The reaction was immediate.
A ripple of grief and shock spread across the crowd.
For the werewolves, these packs were more than territories. They were homes. Places they had dreamed of returning to after the war. Places holding documents, heirlooms, memories.
The alphas were hit the hardest. Packs they inherited from generations before them—gone in a night. Their grief turned quickly into rage. They swore silently that Roosevelt would not escape judgment. Many were ready to trade their lives if it meant defeating him.
King Johnson continued, voice steadying the trembling atmosphere.
"I know this is painful. But we cannot give up. We must fight harder than before. I suggest we build a protected space for the children and elders—those who cannot fight. Strong warriors will guard them. Alpha heirs should stay with them as well, so they can protect both themselves and the others. Three strong warriors from each race will also be assigned to their protection."
The crowd nodded in agreement. It was a solid plan.
Johnson's silver hair fluttered in the wind as he spoke again, his blue eyes shining with determined radiance.
"Roosevelt may have a powerful dragon. He may have strong demons. But we have the Goldrens. Ten thousand of them. The Goldrens are far more powerful than Roosevelt's demons."
"We have the Goldrens. We have hope."
Every race nodded. This was no longer a simple battle—it was survival. Losing was not an option.
King Johnson raised his voice again.
"Now we must figure out how Roosevelt was placed into slumber the first time. While we work on that, the warriors must prepare. War is here."
The crowd dispersed slowly, minds heavy with thoughts. King Johnson already planned to speak privately with Levi about his bloodline.
---
The Goldrens' Abode
Erin stood before the ten thousand Goldrens, addressing them with calm authority. She explained everything they needed to know. Every Goldren listened intently, understanding the weight of their role in the coming war.
When she finished, she walked outside. Ruby, Theodore, and Mars followed behind her.
Ruby stretched her arms, face glowing with fierce excitement.
"I can't wait to spill demon blood. They really dared to burn all those packs? Roosevelt is beyond cruel."
Theo sighed.
"If you ask me, I think he's just holding onto the past. What their ancestors did to his wife—Beth—was horrible, but why target descendants? They're not the ones who killed her. He refuses to let go."
Mars spoke quietly.
"Not everyone can let go of the past easily. It isn't that simple."
Ruby looked at him teasingly.
"Why are you talking like you've been through it?"
Mars immediately straightened, clearing his throat.
"Don't mind me. I was just speaking generally."
Erin smiled softly at them.
"I was actually thinking about introducing you all to my family."
Ruby blinked.
"You mean those people you mentioned before? Kate and Kira or something?"
"Yes," Erin said. "But with the war happening, I doubt it'll be anytime soon."
"After the war," she continued, looking at them with genuine warmth, "I'll introduce you to them. So please—survive. Don't die in battle. You all mean a lot to me."
She meant it as a leader, but Mars' heart skipped as if she had spoken directly to him.
They trained together for a while—Theo and Mars sparring, then Erin joining in. Ruby sat nearby, enjoying the view and cheering them on.
When night finally settled, Erin left to finish preparations. The others went to their respective houses.
The war loomed over them like a storm.
The air felt heavy.
And everyone knew—
Nothing would ever be the same again.