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

Canaan watched unsympathetically as Cecilia called her Second and broke the tragic news to her. He stood there without saying a word and watched patiently as they moved the chat from accepting defeat to actually making plans of where to go when they leave Michigan. He never gave this much thought, but he admired her a lot — not in a romantic way anyway. He admired her because he saw himself in her. They both had a lot in common. They loved gore and were both tough. Watching her as she made this tough call, he could tell she was sad and broken but she refused to break character in front of him — something he’d never do too. Perhaps this was because they were void of emotion. 


Chapter 34