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

There was a brief moment of silence, as Buck staggered backward, staring in horror at what he’d done. This was so unlike him, he seethed against himself for letting his emotions get the best of him. However, this wasn’t the time to point fingers. He had fucked up, and he had to own up to his shit like a real man. But first of all, he had to wait for the kid to recover from shock, and as if Topher could read his thoughts, he opened his eyes. 


Topher gasped in disbelief, staring in awe as he saw his chains instead of his body, shattered into splinters, and with a heavy heart, he shifted his gaze to meet Buck’s. Crying like a baby now because he didn’t know how to appreciate him for sparing his life. 


“I’ll forever be indebted to you. Thank you so much!” he sobbed, but Buck was in no mood for pleasantries. 


“Yea, I get it. It’s not much of a big deal. Now get up! I’m getting you out of here” he replied, half dragging Topher off his seat. 


Chapter 39