CHAPTER 145 The Charter of The Blood Moon

CHAPTER 145 The Charter of The Blood Moon

Maverick

The Librarian worked as quickly as she could.

No one left the chamber. No one slept. The truth serum had stripped the room raw, and exhaustion only sharpened what remained.

Wolves sat with their backs straight, eyes hollow, listening to the scratch of the quill as if it were counting down the seconds we had left. Every name written felt like a decision, every stroke of the quill like a judgment.

Some I expected. Others cut deep. I traced them with a fingertip, imagining the witches and wolves behind each. Embedded in cities, traveling under assumed names, hiding in plain sight, unaware of the chains their blood carried. Some wolves had no idea the Coven blood flowed through them; some witches had long forgotten. Magic had a way of answering itself.

“All confirmed bloodlines linked to the High Coven,” the Librarian said quietly. “Active, dormant, or diluted. Those marked in red have answered a call within the last decade.”

I stepped closer, scanning the pages. Witches embedded in commerce, healing, trade. Wolves compromised by marriage or loyalty, lines stretched across borders. The network was vast—far beyond what the Council had ever imagined, and far more dangerous than Morgana herself.

“How many will side with Morgana?” Bear asked, voice low but tense.

The Librarian didn’t look up. “Some already have. Some will if she offers protection. Some will refuse and die for it.”

“Then we move first,” I said. “We don’t wait for loyalty to be tested. We secure our allies, cut her off before she has the chance.”

Agatha’s fingers tightened on the edge of the trunk. “Careful,” she warned. “If you hunt them like enemies, you’ll drive the undecided straight into her arms.”

I met her gaze. “Then first we secure.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t argue further.

“Safe houses,” I continued. “Neutral ground. Wolves and witches under Council protection. Anyone willing to stand against the Covenant gets shielded. Anyone who refuses is watched. Closely.”

And if they make one wrong move, I'd execute them myself.

“And those already pledged?” Evie asked, voice steady, though I knew Morgana’s shadow still lingered under her skin.

“We isolate them,” I said. “No blood spilled unless they force it. We do not wait. We act.”

Zuri exhaled through her nose. “You’re talking about restructuring the entire Council network.”

“Yes,” I said. “Tonight.”

Protests rose. Jurisdiction. Old rules dragged out like shields, claws trying to hold onto past authority. Councilmen reminded me of treaties and pacts older than memory. High Wolves murmured about precedent, rank, and honor.

I let them speak for exactly ten seconds.

Then I slammed my hand on the table harder than Bear had earlier. The sound ricocheted through the chamber, shaking the papers and rattling steel trays. Every eye snapped to me. Every argument died.

“This Council failed because it valued tradition over survival,” I said flatly. “That era is over. Effective immediately, we operate under wartime authority.”

A few wolves stiffened. One councilman stood halfway.

“You can’t just—” he began.

“As Alpha Lord, I can,” I said. “And I am.”

I turned to the Librarian. “Draft it.”

Her quill paused. “A wartime charter?”

“Yes. One that holds. One that doesn’t fracture the packs the moment I turn my back.”

She studied me for a long moment. Then she nodded and began again, the quill moving faster, strokes sharper. The chamber filled with the scratch of ink, sharp against the quiet.

“Article One,” I said aloud as she wrote. “All internal disputes are suspended for the duration of the Blood Moon cycle. No challenges. No territorial claims.”

“Article Two,” I continued. “Any alliance, pact, or contract with the Covenant or its agents is treason. Any wolf or witch found aiding them is liable for arrest and confinement, and if necessary, death."

“Article Three,” I added. “Truth-binding is mandatory for all leadership roles. Quarterly. No exceptions. Every action must be accounted for, every omission punished.”

A ripple moved through the room, but no one argued. They knew better.

“Article Four,” Agatha said calmly. “Witches under Council protection answer to the Council alone. Harm to them is punishable as harm to a High Wolf. Any violation is immediate cause for dismissal or confinement.”

The Librarian’s quill scratched without slowing.

“Article Five,” I rumbled. “Training is compulsory. Every able-bodied wolf. No exemptions for rank or lineage. Combat readiness is mandatory. This is not negotiable.”

I watched Evie as it formed. Her eyes were sharp despite fatigue. Whatever Morgana had tried to hollow out, it hadn’t worked. Not completely.

“Add one more,” I said quietly.

The Librarian looked up. “Yes, Alpha Lord?”

“Article Six,” I said. “If I fall, command passes to my Beta, Bear. If Bear falls, to my Luna, Evie. No votes. No delays. No exceptions. This ensures continuity.”

The chamber went dead still.

Evie turned to me. “Maverick—”

“I’m not debating this,” I said. “Morgana won’t hesitate to remove me. She’ll try to fracture us in the aftermath. This prevents that.”

The Librarian hesitated only a second before writing it down.

When she finished, she dropped her quill with a heavy finality.

“It is done,” she said. “The Charter of the Blood Moon.”

I straightened. “You will all sign it. Blood and name. Those who refuse are relieved of command and escorted from Council territory.”

No one moved at first.

Then, one by one, they stepped forward. Claws pricked palms. Blood marked the page. Names burned briefly as the magic bound them, then faded into the parchment.

When it was done, I felt it settle. Not relief. Readiness.

Agatha approached as the wolves took their seats again. “This puts a target on your back,” she said quietly.

“Ever since I became Alpha Lord, I’ve carried one,” I replied.

Her eyes flicked to Evie. “And on hers.”

“I know,” I said, meeting her gaze without hesitation.

Outside, dawn was beginning to bleed into the sky, pale and cold.

Three months.

We weren’t reacting anymore. We were building the trap. And when the Blood Moon rose, it wouldn’t find us scattered, fearful, or divided. It would find us waiting.

Councilmen moved with stiff, silent obedience, as if the charter itself had replaced their own wills. The Librarian lingered behind, checking each line of the text, tracing magical seals that bound blood, magic, and loyalty into one unbreakable structure.

Evie came to my side. Her silver eyes flickered faintly in the early light, and I could see Morgana’s mark still lurking just beneath although it was fading. She held herself still, controlled, but I could feel the tension beneath her skin.

“You think this will stop her?” she asked quietly.

I didn’t answer immediately. I looked at the chamber, the wolves, the papers scattered and stamped with blood.

“No,” I finally said. “Nothing will stop her completely. But it buys us leverage. Control. And for the first time, we are not vulnerable to surprise. We decide the battlefield now, not her.”

She nodded. “And the witches?”

“Shield them. Train them. Isolate them from the Covenant until we can move safely.” My gaze swept the room one last time. “Anyone who tries to intervene or switch sides dies. Simple as that.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’ll execute if necessary?”

I didn’t flinch. “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect this pack. That includes them, or her, or anyone who would put you and our pups in danger.”

Agatha’s presence beside the trunk was a constant reminder. She hadn’t spoken, but I could feel her judgment. Sharp, precise, and quiet.

“Your plan,” she said finally, “relies on perfect compliance. Any misstep, any hesitation, and the Covenant will exploit it immediately. They’ve waited centuries for this opportunity.”

“I know,” I said. “And that’s why we act now. Not tomorrow, not next week. Tonight, this chamber, this pack, this Council—they become a weapon.”

I turned back to the Librarian. “Give me the list you’ve compiled.”

She tore the pages from the tome and placed them in my hands.

Bear stepped up behind me. “We’re talking hundreds,” he said. His tone held no complaint, only assessment. “Hundreds of witches. Dozens of rogue wolves. You really think we can handle that?”

“Yes,” I said simply. “We already are. But only if we move as one. If we don’t, Morgana wins before the Blood Moon even rises.”

I handed the list to Bear. “Make copies. We start by keeping eyes on the names marked in red. The neutral ones—we bring them in. Convince them before Morgana does.”

Then I turned to Agatha. “Talk to the witches who despise the Covenant. The ones who’ve been waiting for a chance to push back. Ask them to help train.”

Bear and Agatha nodded in unison, already moving through the implications.

Evie stepped forward, her voice calm, controlled. “Three months isn’t much time.”

“No,” I admitted. “But it’s all we get. Every moment counts. The Blood Moon amplifies everything—every witch, every spell, every act of magic Morgana controls. She’ll reach farther, touch more wolves, manipulate more minds. That’s why we neutralize what we can now. Before it begins.”

By the time dawn fully rose, the charter was complete. Names. Bloodlines. Protective measures. Punitive clauses. All of it bound in ink, magic, oath—and sealed into law by Zuri’s hand.

I looked at the chamber, quiet now, exhausted now, but united. Councilmen who had argued, whispered, and plotted were silent. They knew the weight of this moment. They knew what it demanded.

“Three months,” I said again, voice low but iron. “Three months to prepare. Three months to secure every ally. Three months to hunt the wolves who would betray us. And when the Blood Moon rises…” I let my gaze sweep over the assembled, silent group. “…we strike first. This meeting is adjourned."

I nudged Smith, Aurora, and Leon awake.

“Time to go home,” I said, my voice low, cutting through the morning haze.

I turned to Leon. “Bear may be my best tracker, but you… you’re the best shadow of the pack.”

His eyes sharpened, fully alert now, every muscle coiling like a spring. “What do you need me to do?”

“I need you in Mexico City,” I said. “I want to know exactly what Draven is planning.”

Leon’s lips curved into a mischievous smile. “Entonces necesito repasar mi español.”

I let him grin, then added, “Do it quietly. No mistakes. The pack depends on it.”

He nodded once, sharp, precise. Ready.