THE MOON'S TOUCH

MAGNUS

I smothered a yawn as I dipped the quill in the ink pot and signed my name at the bottom of the fifth letter I'd written in a row.

It was a prudent move I'd started to do before every full moon because of two accidental incidents that had almost led to two wars. Well, one of the wars happened but stopped quickly when the other pack realized they were outmatched.

It was the night of the full moon, on August, ten years before, and a group of werewolves from other packs had run into our feraxis during their moon craze, and a clash happened, leading to slight injuries on both sides.

But the second time it happened, the clash had led to the death of three wolves, and none of them was from my pack.

It was after this that the war broke out. And ever since we settled that, I'd always made it a duty to send letters to every pack alpha within my territories, warning and urging them to keep their members in check.