182
Peter
Dragons. The very thought of them sent a shiver down my spine. After the encounter with the dragon shifters, it became painfully clear that we needed a stronger weapon to stand a chance against them. My fingers tapped impatiently on the desk, and I glanced at the sketches of different weapons spread out before me. I needed something that could penetrate the dragons’ tough scales and effectively neutralize their threat.
They were really the only shifter capable of defeating werewolves without much of a fight. Resistant to a werewolf’s bite, resistant to magic and silver. The last iteration of the canon had barely scratched one of them, but it was more progress than before. I looked at the giant scale the last canon had managed to tear off a dragon shifter and started to pace around my office, my mind racing with plans.
I couldn’t afford another failure. The anxiety, the fear of the upcoming war, was breathing down my neck. I had to make sure we were protected. I had to make sure that we would win. Things were different now that Blue Moon was so diminished and White Moon had fallen.
“Sir?”
“What’s the status?” I asked.
“We managed to recover most of it.”
I nodded and turned to follow my assistant. “Good work. Show me. Are the technicians done with the scans yet?”
“Not yet, sir.”
I followed her down to the ground floor, where the recovered pieces of the previous canon were laid out on the table. I clenched my jaw, looked at the wreckage, and picked up the report from the attack. I had read it so many times I knew most of it by heart.
“You’re here.”
I looked up as she sauntered into the room. My lead magical engineer was a refugee from the war, from a smaller pack that had been ravaged by Blue Moon.
She probably hated them more than anyone else in my employ.
“Of course. What can you tell me?”
“It didn’t just break because it was smashed,” she smirked. “It was already cracking from the inside from the first shot.”
I smirked. “You mean if we could find something stronger to house it, it might work.”
“It’s possible.”
“Reach out to our contacts with the witches. Look through the old texts, dissect a dragon if you have to.”
She smiled. “I don’t think that will be necessary, but if it is, I’ll let you know.”
My phone chimed, and I headed back to my office with copies of the final analysis. I looked back at the designs, and as I sat behind my desk, my thoughts began to drift to Michelle. Her vibrant laughter, her captivating smile, and the way she could effortlessly make my heart race were a stark contrast to the darkness that consumed my mind.
My lips curled into a half-smile as I remembered the way we’d first met in that bookstore as she tried to decide between MBA textbooks though she had so little knowledge of business. She’d been sweet, unknowing of who I was, and utterly honest. The chemistry between us was undeniable, and over time, our connection had deepened into something I hadn’t anticipated.
But my musings about Michelle were abruptly interrupted as a technician cleared their throat, bringing me back to the present.
I looked up at the man at the door. “Some reports about the material tests.”
“Thank you.”
I took them and started to flip through them, frustrated at the lack of viable materials. The metals melted too easily, or they were too brittle for the force. I considered stone, of course, or something else. Perhaps we would have to figure out how to move away from projectiles.
As I contemplated the designs we’d tried and moved on from, my mind wandered again. I heard Michelle’s laughter at the back of my mind before my mind was yanked. Lucy filled my mind. Her hairpin was at home. I hadn’t even thought about it until just now.
What was it about her? Was it just the fact that she was the Moon Goddess? The Moon Goddess’ power had not saved the White Moon Pack, it had not saved werewolves from being broken up and scattered either, and she was too young to wield any power with any control.
My phone rang again. I glanced at the screen, recognizing the contact as one of my informants within the Council. Curiosity piqued, I opened the message and read through the brief update.
A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I read the information. The White Moon Pack, once fallen, had been reformed, led by Lucian Whitetower.
I had met Lucian before. He didn’t strike me as the type to crave being an alpha, but I could see him taking up the role for the sake of his family. Did he know that Lucy was the new Moon Goddess? I’d had no idea that Lucian was even a member of the White Moon pack. Based on his age, he would have been old enough to remember most of what happened.
As Alpha of the Black Moon Pack, I couldn’t help but see the potential in this development. The prospect of aligning our pack with the newly reformed White Moon Pack carried possibilities. The strength in numbers and the unity of two powerful packs could create a force that would undoubtedly be noticed within the supernatural community, especially against the Blue Moon Pack.
I would have to tread cautiously. Lucian wasn’t a war-maker. His mind would be focused on keeping his family safe at all costs. Perhaps he didn’t even believe that there would be a war coming our way, but I knew better.
The Crescent Festival came to mind again. It wasn’t just a simple celebration; it was a chance for alliances to be formed, for packs to interact, and for destinies to be intertwined. The festival’s timing seemed almost too perfect, offering an opportunity for connections that could shape the supernatural landscape for years to come. I would have to make sure that Lucian got an invitation if he hadn’t already. Knowing the Council, he possibly hadn’t unless he’d made friends among the Council I didn’t know about. My musings were momentarily interrupted as a voice called out from the doorway.
“Alpha Peter, we have some updates on the dragon resistance project.”
I nodded, signaling the technician to continue. As I listened to their report, my mind continued to churn with thoughts of the Crescent Festival and the potential alliance between the Black Moon and White Moon Packs. He dropped the report on my table after giving me a summary.
Then, another message notification drew my attention back to my phone. This time, it was about the Blue Moon Pack. Not only was Oren back, but he had attempted and failed to use the Bond of the Moon. A chuckle escaped my lips as I read about their failed attempt to cross the borders of Hecate. It seemed that it wasn’t just me concerned about the brewing tensions in the supernatural world if Hecate had erected a barrier around its main city. It appeared that Oren’s influence was facing resistance from within the Council.
Good.
I typed a quick response to my informant, acknowledging the information they had provided. Then, I turned my attention back to the reports on my desk. But even as I delved into the technical details, my mind continued to circle back to the idea of alliances, unity, and the prospect of a reformed White Moon Pack.
Leaning back in my chair, my thoughts wandered back to the upcoming Crescent Festival. My mind drifted to Michelle again. The prospect of attending the Crescent Festival with her appealed to me. She was human, so there might be a challenge there, but I could imagine us walking together. The scent of her so close to me, the warmth of her skin against mine. I pondered what she might wear, the way her smile might light up the evening, and the graceful confidence that would radiate from her on my arm.
However, amid my musings of Michelle, a persistent undercurrent tugged at my thoughts. A nagging presence that wasn’t quite definable but had been lingering since the message about the White Moon Pack’s reform. Every time my mind turned to Michelle, there was an odd sensation, almost as if a phantom thread was redirecting my thoughts back to Lucy.
The image in my mind shifted and changed as I thought about it. It was as if I couldn’t get my mind to settle. It felt ridiculous, yet I couldn’t ignore it.
Something was pulling at my thoughts. I was a man of logic and strategy, not one to be swayed by fleeting emotions or intangible impulses.
Yet, my hand reached for my phone as if someone else was doing it, and I sent a simple message:
Lucy Graves is the new Moon Goddess. Spread the word.
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