Moonfall | Book Two

CHAPTER 12

As expected, the Throne Room was filled when Michael entered. With Lukas following close behind, Michael crossed the sea of pack members towards the dais. Once he reached the base of the steps, he climbed them to the top and immediately took his place to his father's right, his mother already on the left.

He could not be a fly on the wall during this particular meeting. In front of visitors—whether strangers, allies or enemies—it was of utmost importance to look like a united front.

He peered down at Lukas, who remained at the bottom facing the crowd. Damien stood a few feet to his left.Chatter filled the air, an uncommon occurrence whilst in the presence of the Alpha. But the fact his father had not silenced them meant he was allowing the pack their right to be on guard as the Witches' visit was undoubtedly unexpected for them all.

And just like them, Michael, too, wanted to know why they had come.

The Witches, in question, were not in the room, and he suspected his father had been awaiting his arrivalbefore granting them an audience. His suspicion was proven correct when his father commanded Damien to bring them in.

Silence befell the room as Damien quickly exited. Minutes later, the doors re-opened, and in the betawalked with the witches, dressed in floor-length black cloaks, trailing behind him as he led them to the centre of the room.

Michael had only seen Aria a handful of times, the last few being a year prior—before and after Gabriel's death. But it was hard to forget the High Priestess—her long auburn hair, white as snow skin, and large black-as-sin eyes—or the effect of being within her presence—like every last bit of warmth in the room had been sucked out of it.

As for the three witches by her side, he remembered their faces as clearly as he remembered Gabriel's agonizing screams from the torture they inflicted upon him in this very room a year ago.

"Aria, to what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

It was safe to say his father was not happy to see her.

"It cannot possibly be wolf blood, can it?"

The century-old treaty between the Wolves and the Witches included supplying them with wolf blood. It enabled them to perform dark magic, which had been needed to keep the Fae confined to the Woodlands. But since the Fae no longer roamed this world, the Wolves no longer felt compelled to supply the Witches with blood—one of the reasons the two races had been at odds for nearly a year.

"If so, then your trip was wasted, and we have nothing to discuss as you already know where we stand on that topic."

"Let her speak first, Aaron."

Michael glanced over at his mother just as she stepped forward and gestured for Aria to speak. He then looked at his father, who clenched his jaw but made the same gesture, granting Aria permission to speak. He returned his gaze back to Aria.

"Thank you, Reina," Aria said, then turned her attention towards the Alpha. "You know why we have come, Aaron, and I assure you, it is not for blood. Out of respect for your loss, we left you alone and let your people mourn for nearly a year. I apologize for the sudden visit, but we have come to you today because we can no longer wait. Our request is simple. We ask you to give us what is owed and promised."

"I promised you no such thing."

Michael turned his head to look at his father. As Aria had not come out and said it, he was confused about what she wanted, but it seemed his father knew exactly what she was talking about.

"It was promised to us a century ago during the First War."

When his father walked to the edge of the top step, Michael knew he was debating whether or not to enforce his dominance. He had attended enough pack meetings to learn whenever the Alpha had grown bored, lost interest in a conversation or simply wanted to put it to an end, he would take a seat on his throne. The fact he had not already done so meant Aria had his undivided attention.