Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Michael POV

I sat on my couch, a half-empty bag of stale chips resting on my lap, and stared at the TV screen like it was the last flickering light of a dying world. Which, honestly, it might as well have been. The news anchor, a perky woman with a smile so bright it could probably blind a vampire, was gushing about Julian Corbin's "historic unanimous victory" as if he'd just cured cancer or invented a new kind of drink. 

"Julian Corbin, leader of the vampires, has been elected as the ruler of Northwind Reach in a landslide vote," she chirped, her voice dripping with faux enthusiasm. "This marks the first time in history that all species leaders have united behind a single candidate!" 

I snorted, nearly choking on a chip. "United? Ridiculous. Those leaders look like they were bullied, bribed, or blackmailed to do it," I muttered to no one in particular. 

The screen cut to footage of Julian standing at the podium, looking like he'd just won the lottery and was already planning how to spend the money on more hair gel or black dye. His perfectly sculpted face was the picture of smug satisfaction, and his eyes—those cold, calculating eyes—gleamed with the kind of arrogance that made me want to throw my bow at the TV. 

"Today is a great day for Northwind Reach," Julian declared, his voice smooth and dripping with self-importance. "Together, we will usher in a new era of prosperity and unity." 

"Yeah, unity is the new term for dictatorship," I said, rolling my eyes. "Because nothing says 'prosperity' like a vampire with a god complex running the show." 

I reached for my bow, which was lying on the coffee table next to a pile of unopened bills and a half-finished crossword puzzle. Cleaning it was my version of therapy—cheaper than a psychologist and less likely to judge me for eating chips for dinner. As I ran the cloth along the curve of the bow, I couldn't help but think about how utterly ridiculous this whole situation was. 

Julian Corbin was, in my professional opinion, a walking disaster wrapped in a designer suit. He was a 50-year-old vampire who looked like he'd been photoshopped by someone with a fetish for perfection. His ego was so fragile that I was pretty sure if you called him "old man" to his face, he'd spontaneously combust out of anger. And yet, here he was, new ruler of Northwind Reach, leading us straight into the clusterfuck he called a "new era." 

The news cut to footage of Marissa Fairmont storming out of the assembly hall, her eyes blazing with fury. She looked like she was about two seconds away from shifting and tearing someone's throat out—probably Julian's. Man, I wish she could do that one day. I had to admit, I respected her guts. Standing up to Julian in front of the entire continent took a level of bravery I wasn't sure I had. 

"Marissa Fairmont, the werewolf activist and outspoken critic of Julian Corbin, had strong words for the newly elected ruler," the anchor said, her smile faltering slightly as if she were afraid Marissa might jump through the screen and bite her. 

The footage showed Marissa glaring at Julian, her voice sharp and unyielding. "You can bribe every gullible leader in this room with power, wealth, or threaten them," she spat. "But unfortunately for you, I can't be bribed or…..." the footage cut abruptly

I raised an eyebrow. "Damn, girl. Tell him how you really feel." 

The camera panned to the council leaders, and my brief moment of amusement evaporated. There they were, sitting like a bunch of obedient lapdogs, not a single one of them coming to Marissa's defense. Not even Theo Black, the leader of the werewolves, who was supposed to represent her. It was pathetic. 

I sighed and leaned back on the couch, tossing the bow onto the table. "Well, Northwind Reach, it's been nice knowing you. Enjoy your new vampire overlord." 

The truth was, none of this surprised me. Julian had always been a narcissistic blowhard, and the council leaders had always been greedy spineless sycophants. What did surprise me was how little I cared. A month ago, I might've been outraged, ready to grab my bow and join Marissa in her crusade against tyranny. But now? Now I just felt... tired. 

Tired of the corruption. Tired of the greed. Tired of watching people I once respected sell their souls for a taste of power. And, most of all, tired of pretending like any of it mattered. 

My phone buzzed on the coffee table, and I glanced at it reluctantly. It was a text from my ex-fiancée, Sarah. Again. 

*Michael, please. We need to talk.* 

I stared at the screen for a moment before tossing the phone onto the couch. Yeah, no thanks. I'd already said everything I needed to say. 

It had been a month since I'd called off the engagement, and the wound was still fresh. Six years together, down the drain because she decided that murdering a group of rebels was a perfectly reasonable way to climb the social ladder. And my family? They were just as bad. My parents, my siblings—they'd all been in on it, leading the charge like it was some kind of twisted family bonding activity. 

"It's for the good of the family, our future " my dad had said, as if that made it okay. 

"We're shifters, Michael," my mom had added, her voice dripping with condescension. "We have to do what's necessary to survive." 

Yeah, because nothing says "survival" like slaughtering innocent people to suck up to a vampire with a god complex. 

I grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels, hoping to find something—anything—that wasn't about Julian's victory. No such luck. Every station was either replaying his speech or analyzing it like it was the second coming of some ancient prophecy. 

I finally gave up and turned off the TV, plunging the room into silence. For a moment, I just sat there, staring at the blank screen and wondering how my life was all but useless.

A shifter who couldn't shift. A man without a family. A guy who'd rather clean his bow than face the fact that his entire continent was about to implode. 

"Well, Michael," I said to myself, popping another chip into my mouth. "At least you've got snacks." 

And with that profound thought, I leaned back on the couch and stared blankly at the ceiling.

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