**Chapter 36
The Werewolf Realm
LEVI'S POV
The three races…
For years, we only heard stories of them. The elves, the vampires, and the mysterious race that existed only in ancient whispers. I never once imagined all three would walk into my pack house on the same day.
But none of that shook me the way she did.
The moment I saw her—Erin—the presence I felt at the portal finally made sense.
My mate.
The woman who opened the portal with such power that even the ground trembled.
And she… created a race.
A whole damn race.
I won't lie.
I was terrified.
Not of her—but of what it meant.
Of the difference between us.
Of the reality that I… a wolf who once claimed Michelle was too weak for me—now had a mate who was beyond anything I'd ever known.
Strong.
Regal.
Composed.
Beautiful in a way that shouldn't exist in a mortal world.
Yet there was something faint in her eyes… something familiar.
A softness Michelle once carried.
Or maybe it was my imagination refusing to let go of the past.
I didn't know.
But what annoyed me—no, what infuriated Magnus—was the sight of her touching that guard's hand.
That man with the cold green eyes.
Standing too close.
Receiving comfort that I should have been the one to give.
Even I didn't know who he was.
And honestly? I didn't care.
Magnus growled inside me, voice sharp and furious.
"How dare this good-for-nothing male receive such a privilege from our mate!"
I pinched the bridge of my nose mentally.
Magnus, calm down.
"CALM?!" he roared. "OUR MATE touched him! She was comforting him! Comforting—HIM!"
It's nothing, I tried to reassure him. She was probably just helping a friend… hopefully. Probably. Maybe.
The man was undeniably handsome—but I refused to acknowledge that out loud.
"I'II REMEMBER HIS FACE," Magnus hissed. "I WILL RIP HIS—"
Enough.
I shoved him back before he drove me insane.
And forced myself to focus.
King Johnson was speaking, his voice smooth and authoritative.
"We don't know when Roosevelt will strike again, or when he will send his demons. That is why each pack must have strong reinforcements. You mentioned there are twelve packs in this realm, correct?"
I snapped back to attention.
"Yes. Twelve packs in total," I replied.
Michael nodded.
"Good. Then we'll divide our armies into twelve groups. Each pack will receive a mix of vampires, elves, and Goldren."
I couldn't exactly argue with that plan. It was the most strategic option.
"Fair enough," I said. "What's next?"
King Johnson folded his arms, expression firm.
"Next, you must update the other alphas with every detail you know about Roosevelt and his demons."
"I already shared the information," I said.
"But not complete information… right?" Michael added.
I coughed into my fist.
"Umm… yes."
King Johnson stood.
"Where have you prepared accommodations for us? We'll rest for a few hours. In the meantime, gather the other alphas. They should have been here to welcome us."
I raised my hands quickly.
"Oh—they know. They were supposed to be here, but they're still preparing—"
A warrior rushed in and bowed.
"Alpha, the alphas are here."
"Let them enter," I instructed.
As the door opened, the alphas filed in one by one, each bowing respectfully to the leaders of the three realms. Their eyes were full of awe—and fear. Understandable. This was the highest assembly our kind had ever witnessed.
Alpha Rowan of the Nightclaw Pack spoke first.
"We are extremely grateful you came to aid us."
King Johnson waved a hand.
"You're welcome. But do not misunderstand. We aren't helping just you. We are helping ourselves. If your realm falls, our realms will be next. Roosevelt isn't targeting wolves alone—he is targeting existence itself."
His voice echoed with quiet authority.
"Roosevelt is an ancient vampire. Most called him the first King of Vampires."
Shock rippled across the room.
"But that is not the full story," Michael said, stepping forward.
"What truly fueled Roosevelt's descent into madness… was the loss of someone he loved. Twice. Both times… because of werewolves."
Gasps filled the hall.
Michael's eyes darkened.
"And now? Roosevelt wants all realms to suffer the same grief he endured."
A cold chill ran through me.
This wasn't a war of power.
This was a war born from heartbreak.
A war fueled by vengeance.
A war that was coming for us all.
King Johnson's expression darkened as he continued.
"…and that is why Roosevelt wants to end everything tied to the werewolves."
The room fell silent. Even the air seemed to still.
He continued, voice steady:
"Now, let's move on to Roosevelt's strength."
A heavy tension settled across the hall. Dozens of Alpha wolves leaned forward, listening.
"Roosevelt commands an army of demons—no exaggeration, no poetic wording. His soldiers are creatures born from the Pit of Hell itself. A million of them."
A murmur swept through the Alphas.
One of the younger Alphas raised his hand cautiously.
"W-wait… the Pit of Hell? You mean—literally?"
King Johnson nodded once.
"Yes. Literally."
A sharp breath echoed somewhere in the room.
He continued, voice low but firm:
"As for Roosevelt himself… I won't sugarcoat it. Ever since he lost the woman he loved—twice—he has grown dangerously unstable. Emotionless. Hollow. A being with nothing left to lose."
Levi felt his wolf, Magnus, whine softly in the back of his mind.
King Johnson pressed on.
"He has no remaining weakness. Nothing anyone can use against him. No attachments. No fear. No mercy."
He paused, letting the words settle heavily in every heart present.
"Roosevelt possesses an ability none of you must ever underestimate—his whisper."
Alpha Rowan frowned. "His… whisper?"
"Yes," King Johnson said, face grim. "He whispers death. A spell. A command. A curse. Call it whatever you like—but know that it kills. Instantly. Silently. Without warning."
Several Alphas stiffened. A few looked pale.
"It is a technique he uses often," Johnson added. "And he will not hesitate to use it again."
A cold shiver slithered down Levi's spine.
The hall grew quiet enough to hear a heartbeat.
Finally, King Johnson looked around the room, meeting the eyes of every Alpha one by one.
"If any of you ever come face-to-face with Roosevelt…"
A pause.
A deep breath.
Then, with absolute seriousness, he finished:
"…run."
No one spoke after that. Because there was nothing to say.
King Johnson's voice dropped, heavy and absolute.
"Do not—under any circumstance—attempt to fight him. Roosevelt is a mindless monster, a being who no longer cares about anything or anyone except the destruction of the werewolf race."
A deep, uneasy silence spread across the hall. Even the bravest Alphas lowered their gazes.
"As time goes on," the king continued, "we'll share more information. There's still much you don't know. But there is one thing I fear more than all else…"
His jaw clenched.
"If Roosevelt decides to use his dragon."
The moment the word dragon left his mouth, the entire room erupted in shock. Gasps echoed. Chairs scraped. Wolves stiffened, their bodies instinctively bracing for danger.
Levi didn't flinch.
He and Micha had known. They'd seen the creature in the ancient book. But the other Alphas… they clearly had not.
The Alpha of Silver Crest trembled.
"D–dragon?! You mean… this Roosevelt man commands a dragon?"
Alpha Rowan looked pale as he turned to King Johnson.
"You're telling us that creature— the one from the old legends, the regal beast that breathes fire and stands taller than a fortress—actually exists? And Roosevelt can use it in battle?"
King Johnson exhaled deeply.
"Yes. He can control a dragon. Now that he has awakened from his slumber, I'm certain the dragon has awakened as well. According to everything we know, the two are connected. Their bond is… unnatural. Dangerous."
The room filled with a thick, suffocating tension.
King Johnson continued:
"As I said earlier, your knowledge about Roosevelt is limited. But that ignorance is also our advantage. He won't expect you to know more than myths."
He stood, his presence commanding complete silence.
"We meet again tomorrow. All twelve Alphas must be present. For today, use the time to rest and settle the races into your packs."
With that, the meeting concluded.
The three races divided into twelve groups—vampires, elves, and goldrens—and headed to each pack to prepare defenses in case Roosevelt attacked sooner than expected.
The leaders of the three realms remained at Levi's pack.
Whether it was because he extended the invitation or because Roosevelt's first attack happened here… Levi didn't care. He was simply glad.
Because it meant he could see his mate again.
One by one, the Alphas escorted their assigned warriors to their packs. Levi watched them leave, then turned back inside the Red Moon Pack halls.
Tomorrow… tomorrow would be the beginning of something far more serious.
Later that night, Levi texted Micha, telling him everything that happened.
Micha's reply came quickly:
I'll be there tomorrow. Check the ancient book again—there might be clues we missed.
Levi sighed and headed to his room.
He showered, changed, and lay down, but sleep refused to come. His mind kept circling back to one thing.
His mate.
Erin.
Throughout the entire meeting, she had remained calm. Unshaken. Even when the dragon was mentioned, she didn't flinch.
She knew.
She definitely knew something.
Her scent lingered in his mind—warm, unique… strangely familiar. A touch of Michelle, yet completely different. Stronger. Wilder. Older. Like ancient magic wrapped in softness.
Magnus whined in the back of his mind.
"She is ours."
Levi closed his eyes.
"I know," he whispered.
He hoped—more than anything—that tomorrow, he would finally get the chance to understand this mate fate had given him.
To know the woman behind the power.
To know the creator of a race.
To know the one whose presence felt like home.
And as his eyes finally drifted shut, one thought lingered:
I hope I get to know this mate of mine.