As Sky crossed the natural borders of Stormveil, the air itself seemed to shift.
The scent of the land changed—crisp mountain air laced with pine, damp earth, and the lingering musk of wolves who lived by the law of the wild. The terrain was unforgiving, shaped by storms and time, untouched by human influence. There were no artificial roads, no signs of civilization beyond what the pack had built with their own hands.
This was not a kingdom of wealth. Not a society entangled in human affairs.
This was a kingdom of warriors.
A place where strength dictated order. Where instinct ruled over politics.
The moment he crossed the threshold, the wolves responded.
From the shadows of the trees, figures emerged—silent but ever-watchful. Scouts, their sharp eyes gleaming in the dim light, melting out of the undergrowth like wraiths. Their ears twitched at his approach, their noses lifting to scent the air. Then, one by one, they lowered their heads in acknowledgment.
Submission. Respect. Recognition.
He didn't need to announce his presence. His scent—his very presence—was enough.
By the time he reached Stonehall, the heart of Stormveil's command center, his highest-ranking wolves were already waiting.
The ancient stone walls loomed, torches flickering against the carved archways. The hall was vast, built not for comfort but for command, every inch of it a reflection of the pack's strength. No unnecessary luxuries, no grand thrones—only what was needed to rule and defend.
Inside, warriors stood in formation.
Not a single one faltered.
Each wolf held their ground, backs straight, eyes sharp—silent, awaiting orders. These were not soldiers trained through politics. They were raised in battle, sharpened by hardship, bound by the laws of their pack and nothing else.
And at the head of them—
Fort, his Beta.
---
The Beta
Sky took his seat at the massive stone table, carved with the insignia of the Stormveil Pack—a wolf standing before an oncoming storm.
His wolves remained standing.
Each one represented a pillar of Stormveil's strength.
Fort – The Beta (The Stabilizer, Sky's Second-in-Command)
A mountain of a man, Fort was the voice of authority when Sky was absent.
He wasn't the biggest fighter, but he didn't need to be.
He was the one who kept order.
His presence alone was enough to silence disputes before they even began.
And right now—his jaw was tight with tension.
"Blackridge's movements have been confirmed," Fort said, his voice deep and even. "They're encroaching into Midnight Sapphire's old hunting grounds."
Sky's fingers drummed against the stone table.
Midnight Sapphire was one of the smaller packs that had once submitted under Stormveil's rule.
If Blackridge was taking their territory, it meant they were picking off the weakest first.
A classic strategy of war.
Sky's expression didn't change.
"Is there resistance?"
Fort exhaled. "Minimal. Their Alpha is still negotiating terms. They don't want war."
Sky's wolf snarled in distaste.
They won't have a choice.
But he didn't say it aloud.
Instead, he turned to the next voice in the room—
---
The Guardian
If Fort was the stabilizer, then Thorne was the executioner.
Dark-haired, scarred, and radiating pure lethal energy, Thorne wasn't born for diplomacy.
He was born to eliminate threats.
And right now, his golden eyes gleamed with something dangerous.
"If they won't fight," Thorne said coldly, "they'll be slaughtered."
No hesitation.
No concern.
Just a simple, undeniable fact.
Sky said nothing.
He didn't need to.
Because Thorne was right.
---
The Scout
From the far side of the table, a low scoff.
"Let's not declare them dead just yet."
Lyra—lean, fast, and sharp-eyed—was the leader of Stormveil's scouts.
Where Thorne saw problems to be eliminated, Lyra saw angles to be exploited.
"We don't know Blackridge's full strategy yet," she continued, arms crossed. "For all we know, they're testing boundaries, waiting for us to make the first move."
Thorne snorted. "You think they're that smart?"
Lyra's smirk was razor-sharp. "No. But whoever's controlling them is."
A flicker of tension ran through the room.
The unspoken truth that no one wanted to say.
Blackridge had never been intelligent.
But now?
They were moving like an army.
Sky exhaled.
Then, finally, he turned to the last two voices in the room.
---
The Shadow
Bright sat perched on the edge of the stone table, completely at ease.
Unlike the others, he wasn't tense.
In fact—he looked amused.
Which meant he already knew something.
Sky narrowed his gaze.
Bright only grinned.
"You're all missing the real question here," Bright murmured. "Why now?"
The room fell silent.
Bright leaned forward, voice soft but sharp.
"Blackridge has always been violent. Always been desperate. But they've never been this organized. And if someone is backing them… why are they making their move now?"
Sky felt his wolf shift.
Bright was right.
Something had triggered this.
And he had a suspicion.
But before he could dwell on it—
---
The Secretary
Phuwin flipped through a stack of reports, his expression unreadable.
Then—he placed them down carefully.
"The answer might be in the human world."
All eyes turned to him.
Phuwin didn't falter.
"We've always stayed out of human affairs," he continued, adjusting his glasses. "But the Blackridge pack isn't following normal werewolf patterns. Their expansion is too… calculated. Almost like a corporation acquiring new assets."
Sky exhaled slowly.
A corporation.
A systematic takeover.
This wasn't just a pack war.
This was something much bigger.
And if Phuwin was right—this wasn't just a werewolf problem anymore.
Sky leaned back.
His mind moved fast, pulling the threads together.
Then, finally—he made his decision.
---
The Alpha
His voice was calm.
Final.
Absolute.
"Fort. Send a message to Midnight Sapphire. Tell them they can negotiate, but the moment they lose land, we take control."
Fort nodded. "Understood."
"Thorne. Prepare our best fighters. If a war starts, we finish it."
Thorne smirked. "Gladly."
"Lyra. Double patrols. If you catch even a whiff of a foreign wolf, I want to know."
Lyra placed a hand over her chest. "Consider it done."
Then—Sky turned to his two most unpredictable allies.
"Bright. Phuwin."
Both of them lifted an eyebrow.
"Find out who's funding Blackridge," Sky ordered. "Whether it's wolves, humans, or something worse—I want names."
Bright grinned. "Now we're talking."
Phuwin sighed but nodded. "I'll start with the human corporations."
Sky stood.
The meeting was over.
And yet—as his wolves left the room, one thought refused to leave his mind.
That Omega.
That defiant gaze.
That unshakable presence.
He clenched his jaw.
This is not the time.
But even as he told himself that—
his wolf disagreed.
-----
The Four Fang Alliance
The Grand Chamber of the Four Fang Alliance was a place where empires were built and destroyed.
Tonight, it was a war room.
Because for the first time in decades, the Alliance was under real threat.
---
Warut Hirunkit set down a thick dossier. His expression was unreadable, but the weight in his voice was unmistakable.
"Blackridge has started moving into our trade routes."
Silence.
Prayuth Naravit's fingers tapped against the table. "Encroaching on our supply lines?"
Warut nodded. "And not just that. They've been making aggressive moves on our financial backers. Certain business partners are… re-evaluating their loyalty."
Sarut Jirawat scoffed. "Cowards."
Waranon Metawin exhaled. "Not cowards. Pragmatists. We built our empire on stability. But if we can't guarantee their safety…"
Warut finished the sentence. "…they'll take their money elsewhere."
The Four Fang Alliance was powerful, but power required funding. If they lost control over their wealth and influence, Blackridge would have already won—without shedding a drop of blood.
---
Sarut leaned forward, his voice calm but heavy with authority.
"It's not just the werewolf world watching us."
Prayuth raised an eyebrow. "The humans?"
Sarut shook his head. "Worse. The other supernatural factions."
Woranan frowned. "Vampires?"
Sarut didn't answer immediately, which was an answer enough.
The vampire syndicates had always respected the Four Fang Alliance, but respect was a fragile thing. If the vampires sensed weakness, they would take advantage of it.
The moment the Alliance lost control, their enemies would descend like scavengers.
Sarut Jirawat's voice was steady. "We don't have the numbers for a war."
Prayuth frowned. "We control the largest force outside of Stormveil."
Woranan nodded. "Yes. But we're trained for strategic operations, not sustained warfare. Our warriors are elite, but Blackridge fights to the death."
There was no retreat in Blackridge's forces. No strategy beyond destruction.
They didn't fight for territory or influence.
They fought because war was all they knew.
And against an army like that, numbers didn't matter.
Prayuth Naravit exhaled sharply. "Even if we crush them, we have another problem."
Sarut raised an eyebrow. "Which is?"
Prayuth's expression darkened.
"What happens after?"
If they wiped Blackridge out, it wouldn't end the war.
It would create a power vacuum.
And something worse could rise in its place.
A new enemy. A new war.
Unless they handled this with absolute precision, they could end up breaking the werewolf world beyond repair.
Warut finally broke the heavy silence.
"There is one way out of this."
Every Alpha turned to him.
He hesitated, then said the name.
"The Stormveil Pack."
The reaction was immediate.
Waranon Metawin's jaw tightened.
Sarut Jirawat let out a sharp breath.
Prayuth Naravit went completely still.
Because they all knew what that meant.
Stormveil wasn't an ally.
It wasn't even a pack in the traditional sense.
It was a force of nature.
And its leader?
Sky Wongravee.
A name that commanded respect and fear in equal measure.
---
Sarut's voice was low. "You want to involve them?"
Woranan exhaled. "They don't play by our rules."
Prayuth's tone was sharper. "They don't play by anyone's rules."
Warut remained firm. "And yet, they're the only pack capable of standing against Blackridge."
Stormveil didn't follow the old laws.
They didn't care for politics or diplomacy.
They answered to one Alpha only.
And that Alpha had never lost a battle.
Sarut's fingers curled into a fist. "And if they demand something in return?"
Prayuth's voice was cold. "They will."
Stormveil didn't owe favors.
They didn't fight for free.
If they agreed to help the Four Fang Alliance, they would ask for something in return.
Something impossible to refuse.
And once that favor was given…
Stormveil would own them.
---
No one spoke for a long time.
Because deep down, they all knew.
This wasn't just about Blackridge.
This was about whether or not F4 was willing to surrender their control.
Because once they let Stormveil in…
They would never be able to push them out.
---
Warut's voice was calm but absolute.
"We don't have a choice."
The other Alphas exchanged one final glance.
And in that moment, they understood.
They weren't just preparing for a war.
They were preparing for a shift in power.
And Sky Wongravee was about to change everything.
-----
As the meeting concluded, the air inside the Grand Chamber remained thick with unspoken tension. The decision had been made, but it didn't bring relief—only a sense of impending change.
The elders stood from their seats, their movements slow and deliberate. There was no victory here. Only necessity.
Warut Hirunkit lingered for a moment longer, his gaze fixed on the darkened windows. Outside, the city gleamed—a testament to the empire they built.
And the storm that threatened to tear it apart.
Prayuth Naravit's voice was low. "Are you certain about this?"
Warut didn't answer immediately. His hands rested on the table, fingers tightening slightly. The weight of leadership was a silent burden.
Finally, he exhaled. "This is bigger than we thought. And it's only the beginning."
A quiet pause.
Then, his voice dropped into something even colder.
"We are no longer the ones in control."
The words hung in the air like a death sentence.
And deep down, they all knew—this wasn't just about survival anymore.
It was about who would own the future.
And whether the Four Fang Alliance would still have a place in it.