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

Harry watched the sky through his side mirror with keen interest, observing as the sun sunk slowly to the west, and then he glanced at his watch, hissing in frustration. “What the heck is taking them so long?” He vented his frustration on the horn multiple times, observing his side mirror again, before two men emerged a few moments later, from the house he’d been idling in front of. 


 “C’mon guys we’re losing daylight!” He yelled as the men approached him while working on the ignition to start the car. 


 “Sorry, I had to get something” one of them, a young handsome stud with brown eyes and black hair on wheatish skin replied when they entered the car, in a bid to soothe him, but he waved it off with a sigh, satisfied that they were here now. 


Chapter 42