BACK IN BLOODMOON BACK
The throne room was crowded with reporters lining the walls. Werewolvea and journalists from a dozen different packs, their cameras and recording devices pointed at the obsidian throne. Guards stood at attention every few feet, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords. The air was thick with tension and expensive cologne.
King Lionel sat on his throne, legs crossed, fingers steepled. His silver hair caught the torchlight. His thundercloud eyes swept across the room with the patience of a predator who had already won.
"Report," he said.
General Vincent stepped forward. He was a massive wolf, broad-shouldered and scarred, his grey fur visible at the edges of his uniform. He bowed low.
"Your Majesty, our border patrols encountered lizard scouts on the northern edge of the territory. Three of them. Maybe four."
"And?"
"We bombed them, Your Majesty. From a distance. We used artillery and fire arrows. They did not get close enough to speak."
