The 'Druid's Tower' gloomed in darkness, save for the flickering torches that barely lit it. And housed at the center of a rotunda in the Druid's Tower, was a very large wooden grey table known as 'The Council' (with the alphas of the different packs in Michigan seated about it). 
For generations, serious matters had been brought and settled before The Council. But was it the case of this present matter? 
A mischievous werewolf had killed not one, not two but three alpha werewolves, leaving the council wondering what he might decide to do with the amount of power he has gained.

Werewolves Of Bloomfield Hills

After being unconscious for hours, Cecilia woke up to the numbing pain of something traveling through her veins. She winced in agony, taking a few deep breaths as she tried to ease her discomfort. Blinking her eyes a few times to accommodate the images flooding her, the first thing she noticed was that she was chained. Her memories were still hazy but she could still make out why she was here, chained to a chair. A sigh of relief escaped her mouth when she looked around and recognized that at least, she was still in her house. Now all she had to do was figure out a way to escape. While contemplating this, her eyes traveled to her hand again before she noticed she was on IV. She was puzzled, finding it difficult to understand why the werewolves were taking such an effort to take care of her when they would kill her eventually, and then, she noticed how odd the shiny grey IV was. Maybe their intentions weren’t genuine after all. 


Chapter 33