The council chamber of the Southern pack was heavy with silence, though the air was filled with the scent of polished oak and burning incense. Long tables stretched across the room, and on them were scattered scrolls, records of trade, and petitions from pack members. The fire in the hearth crackled, throwing long shadows across the stone walls, where portraits of past Alphas stared down with stern, unyielding eyes.
The men of the council, broad-shouldered elders with silver streaking their hair and younger ambitious wolves clad in rich leather tunics sat in a semicircle, their voices hushed as they waited for the door to open.
Alpha Yakim had summoned them earlier in the week. But now, whispers circled like restless spirits.
"Why is he delayed?" one muttered, tapping his claws against the table.
"He has never kept us waiting this long."
"I heard talk that he is unwell."
"Do you think it could be that disease that plagued the villages outside of the royal citadel?"
