Chapter 37

• The colossal doors of Lucius Manor's great hall creaked open, admitting a faint draft that sent shivers crawling up my spine. Brandon and I stood shoulder to shoulder, enveloped by the thrumming energy of countless humans gathered in clusters, their murmurs weaving a tapestry of nervous anticipation. He leaned closer, his voice barely audible over the din. "They're the significant others of werewolves, from all across America."
• As if on cue, the crowd parted like the Red Sea, giving way to an imposing figure. Atlas emerged from the shadowy alcove, his presence commanding immediate attention, followed closely by Lucius, whom I'd only known as the king of werewolves. My heart raced with uncertain dread.
• Lucius addressed the assembly, his voice rich with the sorrow of unmet dreams. "My friends, the time has come for me to step down," he announced, gripping the edge of the podium. "A human virus—ironic, isn't it?—has sapped my strength. It is time for younger blood to lead."